Page 5 of Seeking Shelter

When Jonah returns, he hangs his duty belt, hat, and poncho on a peg. We’re both wearing damp clothing.

I rummage through the bins. It’s been a while since they’ve been stocked, but we won’t starve.

“Is that chili?”

I jerk upright and bump into his chest. “Why are you looming over me?”

He places a hand on my shoulder and I shrug it off.

“I’m not looming. I just want to see the options. I’m hungry.”

“We’ll save the chili for dinner.” I pull my phone from a side pocket. Zero cell coverage is to be expected. “It’s only three so I’m making a late lunch.”

I breathe easier when he moves back to heave the water jug onto a shelf. I hand him the purification tablets, and he drops them in the jug. I locate a small pot and some cooking utensils in another bin.

Once the tablets have had time to work, I fill the coffeepot and set it to percolate at the back of the stove and then heat water to a simmer in a pan.

Jonah dips the corner of a dishtowel in the hot water, then surprises me by cupping my chin and tipping up my head. His fingers are cold.

“What are you doing?”

“So suspicious,” he murmurs. “You have a cut. It’s bloody and I’m cleaning it.” He wipes the cloth gently over my cheek, gaze intent on the task. This close I can see darts of gold in his rich brown eyes.

“A bullet hit the boulder where I was hiding. The cut’s probably from a sliver of rock.”

Those shards of gold burn hotter. “A bullet that got too damn close.” There’s a short pause. “It’s clean and doesn’t need a Band-Aid.”

I nod and busy myself tearing open a plastic wrapper and dumping noodles into the hot water. Heat is beginning to radiate from the wood burner and it feels divine. I tug off my parka and hang it on a wood peg next to Jonah’s things, then crowd in closer, holding my hands to the heat.

“Get back, I don’t want you burned.”

I huff out a breath. “Really, Jonah? Do I look like I’m three and don’t know the stove’s hot?”

Hands on his hips, brows down, he glares at me. Which should feel intimidating, but I’m impervious.

No, I seem to like it because exhilaration shoots through me like an electric charge. Maybe it’s because Jonah’s good looks have always done it for me. Tousled brown hair that’s a little long and a lot sexy. Brown eyes that glint gold in the dim light. Cheeks that bristle with short scruff. Then there’s that long-legged, rangy build that, for reasons beyond my control, makes me want to climb him like a tree, clamp my legs around his waist, and hold on for the good times to come.

That he’s generally angry with me is good because it keeps me from being an idiot over him. Again.

“How can I help?” He speaks like he’s working hard to keep an even tone.

Nothing makes me happier than getting under Jonah Cooper’s skin. “Be a good boy and stay out of my way.”

“Careful, Angel.”

“Or what, Jonah? What will you do if I’m not careful? Tell my brothers I’m a brat? Get me fired from my job?” I scowl because it could happen. Even though we’re with different agencies, he’s got influence around here. “And also, call me Evangeline, or Evie, if that’s too long for you. No one calls me Angel.”

“Angel’s right there in the middle of your name. Works for me.”

I heave a frustrated sigh, telling myself to let it go. The man seems genetically prone to antagonizing me. A pretty nickname only he uses means nothing.

He rummages in a bin and finds graniteware dishes that he wipes off and brings to me. His direct gaze makes me jumpy. I wonder if I can get through the evening without strangling him.

I don’t even want to think about the sleeping arrangements.

I place bowls on the table, steam curling from the soup. From a zip-top bag I’d had in my waterproof duffel, I place sandwiches on a plate between us.

He cradles his bowl in hands that are pink with cold to absorb the heat. When he sips the soup, he groans. “Top Ramen’s never tasted this good. Thank you.”