The wrap complete, he secured it with metal clips, glancing up at my face with an assessing eye. “Too tight?”
I flexed my foot. “No, it’s perfect.”
“Good.” He placed the cold pack back on the injury, then returned the supplies to the kit and stood. One swift move, and he’d slid me up higher on the bed, placed pillows behind me, and lifted my foot up onto the sleeping bag—all without dislodging the ice pack. “Stay here for a bit. Please.” The latter came out with the scowl I’d come to associate with Becken. “Stop moving around.”
“I can’t stay in one position forever.”
His scowl deepened. “Keep it elevated when possible.”
His matter-of-fact competence eroded more of my professional façade. I was used to being the capable one, theperson with all the answers. Being cared for felt foreign and unsettling.
Becken dragged one of the tables closer and opened the canvas bag, removing items and placing them on the table. “Bread, though it’s frozen, meat, also frozen, and cheese.”
“Frozen cheese?”
“The cheese wasn’t frozen. We have solar here. Batteries. A freezer. Refrigerator. People enjoy trial rides, but they prefer more than meat on sticks, cooked over an open fire.”
“Can’t beat hot dogs when you’re hungry.”
He frowned. “They also prefer more than a sleeping bag beside an open fire.”
I waved to the cabin in general, the shed that must hold the freezer. “We call this glamping.”
“I see.”
“A cozy cabin.” I reached for the bread and meat and tucked them against my thighs, covering them with a blanket. My body heat would thaw them quickly.
“Will the storm last long?” I asked, trying to focus on practical matters rather than the way his presence filled the small cabin.
“Hard to say. I never expected it to get this bad. Mountain weather is unpredictable.” He glanced at the window. “We should prepare to be here overnight, possibly longer.”
I took in the orc-sized bed, large by human standards, but still justonebed. Becken followed my look, his expression unreadable. A tic appeared in his brow.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s freezing in here.” I could see my breath with every word, and the temperature outside may continue to drop. “The bed’s big enough for both of us.”
The words came out more confident than I felt. Sharing a bed with him meant vulnerability, proximity. Things I carefully avoided with everyone.
“Orcs run hotter than humans. I’ll be fine on the floor.”
“The practical solution is sharing body heat.” I used his own logic against him, ignoring the flutter in my stomach at the thought of sleeping beside him. “Unless you’re uncomfortable with an arrangement like that.”
Jeez, he may notwantto lay beside me.
His lips twisted around his tusks. “It’s not about comfort. It’s about—” He paused, searching for words. “Appropriate boundaries.”
“We’re adults, stranded in a blizzard, not teenagers locked in a broom closet.” I shrugged, feigning a casual stance. “I won’t read anything into it if you don’t.”
After a long moment, he nodded. “If the temperature drops further, you’re right. Sharing body heat would be more practical.”
He strode over to the trunk and opened it, revealing stacks of blankets and pillows. “At least we won’t freeze.”
Agreement reached, we fell into an awkward silence. The wind howled outside, rattling the windows. Snow continued to accumulate on the ground and etch pretty patterns across the window panes.
Becken busied himself arranging our supplies. I watched him stride around the confined space, his size making the cabin feel much too tiny. He ducked to avoid the low beams, adjusted his stance to navigate between furniture. The cabin had been built for humans.
“Where does Ruugar sleep when he takes people on trail rides?”
