Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
SIERRA
Pale blue light fills the room. The sun rises slowly, its glow tempered by snow. Outside the cabin window, fat, white flakes drift steadily past.
Snuggling deeper under the down comforter, I bask in the quiet, safe feeling of the bedroom. Cole’s guest room.
Did he leave? The house feels quiet.
Or is he in his own bed watching the snowfall?
I raise my head up and look down my body at the blankets. Not a wrinkle. I must have slept like the dead.
Stretching, I enjoy the sleek feel of his sheets. Deliciously smooth. Unfortunately, my bruises, tender places on my legs, back, and arms remind me of the accident that I can’t remember.
My eyes wander over the bedroom, relieved that I didn’t forget where I was while I slept. Somehow, that makes me feel just a teeny bit better.
But the story behind our relationship is an even bigger mystery than it was.
Footfalls in the hallway make my heart jump start. So, he didn’t leave. A soft knock confirms he’s stopped outside the door. “Sierra?”
“Yeah.”
“Just checking on you. I didn’t hear you and I wanted to make sure—”
“You can come in.”
There’s a long stretch of silence. My mouth goes dry with anticipation. What is he thinking out there?
Finally, the door eases open and Cole steps inside. He’s shirtless. And breathtaking. With well-worn jeans hung low on his hips. His strong feet are bare on the naked wooden floor.
If my heart wasn’t already racing, it would be now. My body hums to life as my fingertips ache to know how warm his skin is this morning.
Cole’s eyes follow my hand as I press my tangled hair back from my face. The way he looks at me makes it feel as if his hands are on me.
“Did you just get up?” I ask, curious about his morning routines.
With a quick nod, he says, “I did. Didn’t fall asleep until around five.”
“Ouch. That’s not much rest. It took me a while too.” Absent-mindedly, I scratch at the bandage on my arm.
His brows crease. “I should check those stitches. Are they hurting or itching?”
I shrug as I twist my arm so I can see the jagged black line of thread below the clear dressing. “Both, I guess.”
Worry creases his forehead as he approaches the bed. “Is that the original bandage?”
“I’m not sure. It was stressful at the hospital.”
Carefully, he touches me. His gigantic, warm hand wraps around my forearm. Gently, he angles my arm so he can see the bandage better in the light.
A thrill rushes through me. Every time he touches me, my nerve endings light up.
“I don’t like the look of this. The last thing we need is for this to get infected. I’ll clean it and re-bandage it after we feed you some breakfast.”
When he’s finished the inspection, he looks over the other bruises on my arm. Carefully turning my arm and touching the skin around the bruises so he doesn’t hurt me. “Did you get any other cuts?”
“I’ve got a lot of scrapes. On my legs and back. But I can’t see the ones on my back, of course. I feel them, though.”
The concern in his eyes both warms me and unnerves me.
“Turn around,” he rumbles.
“I’m fine.”
Not accepting my answer, he climbs onto the bed to kneel behind me.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Doctor Strong,” I say in a teasing tone.
“I’m a paramedic to be exact.”
Gently, Cole sweeps the long strands of my hair over my shoulder. I’m frozen as my skin goosebumps. With a careful touch, he pulls my night shirt up, exposing my bare back.
His exhale is telling.
I’m on fire on the inside.
It would be so easy for me to lean back into him and pull his hands around to cup my aching breasts.
But a quick intake of his breath tells me just how bad I must look. The warm pads of his fingers trace over the bumps of my vertebra. “Christ, Sierra. Your back is a fucking mess. You should have told me.”
“I didn’t know. I mean, I’m sore, but it’s not like they had full-length mirrors in the hospital.”
I turn enough to see the worry on his face turn to anger. His voice is gruff when he says, “I can’t understand what happened that left you like this.”
My throat works as emotion fills my chest. “If I knew, I’d be happy to tell you. But I don’t know. I remember nothing before I woke up in the hospital.”
I turn away. Still reeling from the fact I don’t remember this man. Or anything that happened before seven days ago. Sliding off the bed, I mutter, “Enough staring at my back. That won’t fix anything.”
Cole’s expression is dark as a thunderstorm. A wave of intense energy shimmers between us.
Finally he speaks. “When you are ready, we are going to find out what happened, and I’m going to kill whoever hurt you.”
I freeze as my breath screeches to a halt.
“Cole—”
He cuts me off. “Serious as fuck, Sierra. No one is getting away with this.”
A ripple of awareness shoots through me. Something dark unfurls in my mind, but I can’t tell what it is. “Do you think someone attacked me?”
The veins on his neck rise. His jaw hardens, but it’s the dark, cold glimmer in his eyes that makes me quickly swallow.
“I don’t think it was an accident.”
I whisper. “What then?”
“It’s winter, Sierra. I’ve never known you to go boating on the bay when the weather is cold and windy. Too many things are not adding up.”
With each second of silence that follows, my body gets tighter and tighter. “What do you know?”
Instead of answering, he asks, “Have you remembered anything else?”
“No.”
His lips press together. I now recognize his body language. Stubborn has set in. “Cole, what else?”
“You’re a daring woman, Sierra, but you’re also smart. I know you have friends with boats, but I’ve only ever heard you talk about warm-weather leisure activities on the water.”
“What if I wasn’t boating?”
He shakes his head. “Fuck.”
Desperation has me reaching for his arm. “Cole. Please, tell me anything you know.”
For a long time he stares at me. His exhale is rough and long, but his eyes soften when he looks down at my hand.
“The area where they found you can’t be accessed by foot. You didn’t swim there.”
My blood starts to run cold. I shiver. My fingers reflexively tighten on his arm. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s a remote area. There’s no pedestrian access. The military police patrol the area because it’s near a base. But that’s all I know. There are too many unanswered questions. We’re not figuring this out right now. Not unless you remember something.”
I press my fingers to my forehead. “Maybe today I will. Maybe something will change.”
He straightens my night shirt and stands. “I’ll tend to those wounds after breakfast.”
After a beat, I recover, momentarily, at least. “I need some coffee. Would you mind fixing some while I get dressed?”
I can’t look at him. Ducking into the bathroom, I close him out. And I lose my grip.
Tears burst out of me like a river. They stream down my face as I stare at a woman I barely recognize in the mirror.
Something is very wrong. Everything to be more specific. Everything is wrong.
Why would I have been on the bay and why is Cole holding back about our relationship?
AND last but definitely not least, he wants to do bodily harm to someone as retaliation for my injuries, when I can’t even remember him.
It’s half an hour later when I finally get my act together.
Somewhat, at least. The rich scent of coffee greets me as I descend the stairs.
As I approach the kitchen, the delicious aromas of bacon and eggs join to form a delicious medley.
There’s a single place setting. A note with one word scrawled on it. “Eat.”
Cole is nowhere to be found. I finally spot him outside, moving big armfuls of firewood from a covered storage area to a rack on the porch.
I carry my plate and mug to the living room so I can watch him work as I eat. Like I’m observing a wild animal in his natural habitat.
Okay, I’m somewhat in control of my emotions now. But barely. Because something about this big strong alpha wrecks me.
How am I going to survive staying under his roof if every minute I’m getting whiplashed by these crazy feelings inside of me?
When the door opens, two hours later, a swoosh of snow follows him into the foyer. He takes his time, pulling off his gloves, his work boots, and hanging his coat precisely on the hook.
“I made you something…” I say from the doorway of the kitchen.
He glances at me. A rush of warmth slides over my skin as I move toward him with a mug of hot cocoa that I’ve had waiting on the stove for him. “I hope you don’t mind, I looked around and found the ingredients for this. I thought you might like some after being out in the cold.”
He reaches for the mug. “You remembered how to make hot chocolate?”
“Oh my! I didn’t even think about that. I guess I did. It just felt natural.”
We share a smile for a second.
He rolls the mug between his gigantic hands as I awkwardly wait for something. What, I’m not exactly sure. “I hope you weren’t outside all that time avoiding me.”
He sips from the mug. His eyes aren’t smiling when he lowers it. “Maybe I was.”
It takes effort not to fidget. I wipe my hands on my thighs. “Do you feel weird about me being in your home?”
He drinks again. Slowly. And licks across his lip, also slowly. His voice is deeper when he says, “Not weird.”
“How do you feel?”
His eyes lower to my mouth. Huskily, he says, “Right now, very aroused.”
My blood ignites like a river of gasoline. A torrent of need is unleashed inside of my core. I almost teeter on my feet. What’s happening inside of my body is so hot, it threatens to buckle me.
With careful attention, he places the mug on the shelf above the coat rack. His eyes never leave mine. “I want you, Sierra.”