“Real Old West jails wouldn’t have central heating, so this makes it authentic.”
“I don’t want you to be cold.”
Neither did I, but there didn’t seem to be much we could do about it. I tightened the blanket around my body.
Dungar noticed. “You’re still cold.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re shivering.”
I couldn’t deny it. The walls seemed to radiate coldness, and my thin shirt offered little protection against the mountain night chill.
“As I said, orcs are built differently than humans,” Dungar said. “We have higher body temperatures and greater tolerance for?—”
“I don’t care if you’re built like a furnace. You’re not sleeping on a freezing floor all night.”
His mouth twitched, fighting a smile. “It’s a boiler.”
“Excuse me?”
“A furnace blows hot air, while a boiler heats water and circulates it?—”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry.” His face darkened.
“I’m the one who should be sorry for interrupting. I didn’t know the difference.”
“Most people don’t.”
The thermometer on the wall now read 52°F. By morning, it would likely drop into the 40s. My practical nature kicked in. This wasn’t about propriety or personal space. This was about survival.
“We need to share body heat,” I said matter-of-factly, even as my heart skipped at the suggestion. “It’s the only sensible option.”
Dungar went very still. “Riley, the bunk is barely big enough for you, let alone us both.”
“We’ll make it work.” I patted the space beside me. “Unless you’re afraid of me?”
His dark eyes widened, and he laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the small cell and warmed parts of me that had nothing to do with temperature.
“Afraid is not the word I would use,” he said softly.
“Then get over here before I freeze to death on my first day as deputy. That would look terrible on your record.”
He hesitated only a moment longer before approaching the bunk with the careful movements I was beginning to associate with him. He always appeared aware of his size, always mindful of the space he occupied in relation to others.
“How should we…?” he gestured vaguely at the narrow space.
I considered our options. The bunk was built into thewall on one side, leaving only one way to arrange ourselves.
“You against the wall,” I decided. “I’ll take the outside. That way if I get too hot, I can roll away.”
“If you get too hot,” he repeated dubiously, looking at my shivering form.
“It could happen. I assume you’re basically a walking…boiler. Unless you prefer I refer to you as someone full of hot air.”
His laugh burst out, a rich, mesmerizing sound. I could not look away.
