Page 18 of Seeking Shelter

“Of course I am. You’re hurt.”

“It’s okay, you can admit you care.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “I’d care about anyone who’s hurt.”

“Nothing more than that?” His rough voice demands the truth.

He’d admitted having feelings for me, something I never expected. I could keep my armor up so I’m never hurt again. Or I can take the leap and hope he catches me.

Resting a hand on his shoulder, I go up on my toes to press my lips to his. He clutches my jacket before I can step back. We’re so close our noses touch. I shiver and don’t know if it’s from proximity to Jonah or the cold.

“Something you want to tell me, Angel?” His breath is warm on my cheek.

“I care about you, Jonah.” I swallow. “A lot.”

“About damn time,” he says.

Then he kisses me.

CHAPTER TEN

Jonah

I want to continue kissing Evangeline for the foreseeable future. I can’t.

After using a long stick to retrieve the water jug, I fill it and usher Angel back to the cabin. We step inside and already it’s warmer. I treat the water and set it on the shelf. She pulls the first-aid kit from her backpack.

“You need out of your wet clothes.”

She shakes her head and points to the chair. “You first.”

With my hand dripping blood, it’s doubtful I’ll win the argument so I pull a chair in front of the window and sit. She opens the kit, snapping on gloves and tearing open a package of gauze. Doubling a stack of the pads, she presses them firmly to the wound. “Hold this. Firm pressure.”

I do as directed, leaning back in the seat to watch her with half-closed eyes. The cut is deep and hurts like hell, but she knows what she’s doing. Having her close settles me.

After irrigating it as best she can with water and swabbing on betadine, she applies a large Band-Aid over a clean gauze pad. “There. That’ll have to do for now.”

“It’s fine. Thanks, Angel.” I don’t miss the occasional shiver, and her fingers that are cold to the touch. I retrieve my backpack and dig around. I hold up two square packets.

She raises her eyebrows. “Mylar emergency blankets?”

I nod. “You wearing a good base layer?” When she nods, I say, “Strip down to the base layer and I’ll wrap you in a mylar blanket.”

“If I’m stripping to wrap myself in one of those, you are too. You’re as wet as I am.”

“I’ll get to it, but you’re shivering and I’m not.”

There’s no time for modesty. Angel knows it’s important to get warm. Back turned to give her privacy, I open the packaging and unfold the blanket.

When I turn around, she has her arms crossed firmly over her breasts. The snug base layer clings to the gentle curves of her long athletic body and doesn’t leave much to the imagination. I wrap the crinkly blanket around her shoulders, and she ties the corners under her chin so she’s wearing it like a cape. Small teardrop breasts and erect nipples are outlined by stretchy white nylon. She’s not wearing a bra and she’s fucking perfect.

I don’t think it’s my imagination that the tension between us pegs over to the danger zone.

Ignoring it, I grab a ball of nylon cord from the shelf and stretch it across a corner of the room as a clothesline. She gets busy hanging her wet things while I shed my clothes and make my own mylar cape, adjusting it because she doesn’t need to see my reaction to her.

The light is falling fast and I focus on preparing for the night ahead. With the position of the cabin, I’m not as worried about Abel and Denny sneaking up on us. I hang my clothes next to Angel’s on the line and retrieve the lanterns from the shelf. One has kerosene and I manage to light it. Next, I pry open the lids on the bins. “Hell yeah.” I hold up a blanket.

“Tell me that’s wool,” she says.