Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Trinity
“Could you maybe...wait in the outhouse?”
Lincoln gapes at me, clearly not on board with the idea. “The outhouse? It’s cold as shit out there.”
“I can make it fast. Ten minutes?”
He lowers his brows, consternation written all over his face. “It took me an hour to fill that tub, and you want to take a ten-minute bath?”
I’m in no mood to bicker with him. My headache hasn’t budged an inch and the fatigue and nausea have gotten even worse.
“No, I’d love to sit in there for an hour, but not with you watching me.”
“Who said I’m going to watch you?” he snaps. “I can keep my eyes to myself.”
I sigh heavily. “I know you wouldn’t gawk or anything, but you could accidentally glance over.”
“I won’t.”
My hot bubble bath is standing by and it’s been so long since I bathed that I can smell myself, making his stubbornness an even sharper thorn in my side. “Would you want to get naked in front of someone you just met a week ago?”
He shrugs. “I’ll take my clothes off right now if it’ll make you feel better.”
“It wouldn’t.” Why is he so exasperating? “You’ve gotten naked in front of hundreds of people. Or maybe thousands? But I’m modest and I’ve only been naked in front of like...two people. Can you understand that?”
A grin tugs at his lips. “Thousands?”
“Come on, you know I’m not far off.”
“I mean, if you’re counting all the guys who have seen me naked in the locker room...it’s still not in the thousands. I’m not the manwhore you seem to think I am.”
“I just want to take a bath.” There’s a pleading note in my tone.
His expression turns serious. “I’ll sit on the bed with my back to you the entire time.”
I feel so awful and the bath looks so inviting that I give up. “Fine. But if I catch you looking at me, you’re sleeping in the outhouse tonight.”
He puts his palms up. “I’m not going to look, Trin.”
There’s something intimate about the way he shortens my name. We’ve gotten to know each other well in a short amount of time. Facing death with someone quickly shows you who they really are, and I’ve never had that experience with anyone else.
I’d never admit it out loud, but it would secretly thrill me to know Lincoln even considered checking me out while I was undressing. I guess being stranded in a cabin with a caveman has shown me that cavemen aren’t without their good points.
Like muscles. And tenacity. Lincoln is undeniably physically attractive, but his concern for me is also very appealing. I have no doubt that if I felt like staying in bed all the time, he’d bring me food, help me to the outhouse, keep the fire going and look for help with no complaints.
He’s a real man, and he’s kept his word on everything else, so I trust that he won’t peek at me while I’m undressing, either.
My gaze stays fixed on his broad back as I quickly slide out of my leggings and underwear. I unbutton the flannel, hesitating for a second before taking it off and then unfastening my bra and dropping it to the floor, too.
When I step into the water, my happy sigh has a twinge of a moan in it. Sitting down hurts my aching body, but once I’m settled in, it feels divine. The tub is deep and perfectly shaped, covering me with bubbles and hot water to my neck once I sink down and lay my head on the edge.
“I could live here,” I say, closing my eyes. “Thank you for this, Linc.”
“I’m glad you like it. Don’t drain it when you’re done; I’m going to get in there.”
Oh. My brows shoot up. We’re going to share the bath. Well, not exactly share it, but he’s going to use the same water. It’s a practical choice, but it feels...close, like something a couple would do.
“Will it stay hot?” I ask him.
“Wh—uh, what?”
“The water? Will it stay hot for you?”
“Oh. Don’t worry about that. I can heat it up again and all I want to do is wash off.”
I perch my feet on the end of the tub, bubbles covering more than half of my exposed skin. “You should really consider sitting in some bubbles for a while. It’s so relaxing.”
He shakes his head. “I just want to wash up.”
I’m a terrible person for teasing him, but I do. There’s a note of breathiness in my voice as I say, “It feels so good.”
Lincoln’s back goes rigid on the bed. He doesn’t respond.
The more I look at the lines of his broad shoulders and carved arm muscles, the more I want him to not sleep with his back to me tonight. I’d love to lie in the crook of his arm, feel his warmth and snuggle against him.
I crave the comfort of him. It’s lousy feeling so sick, and being in his arms would help. Unless...he’s taken.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask him.
“What? Why are you asking me that?”
He’s flustered. Mr. I’m In Charge Here is flustered by my question. It makes me smile.
“Just making conversation,” I say lightly. “What else is there to do around here?”
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“When’s the last time you did have one?”
He exhales heavily. “I don’t know, like a year and a half ago.”
“Wow, that’s a long time.”
“Being on the road doesn’t make for good relationships.”
“It must be lonely.”
“It’s too busy to get lonely. I’m surrounded by my team every minute of the day.”
I unwrap a bar of soap and put it in the water, then lather it between my hands. “You probably don’t snuggle with them, though.”
He responds with a single note of laughter. “Nope, no snuggling with the team.”
I wash my face first, then sit up, my eyes locked on his back as I rub soapy lather over my neck, chest and breasts.
“What about you? Do you have a boyfriend back home?”
“No. I hadn’t even been on a date in more than a year when I went out with Ronan. I regret saying yes to him, obviously.”
“How long did you guys date?”
“We went out twice.”
“No shit? That’s it?”
I continue washing my body, realizing I haven’t thought about the Ronan situation at all since the plane crash. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“How’d you guys meet?”
“In line at a coffee shop.”
He grunts in response, and I can’t read the meaning of it. I submerge my head in the water to wet it and then grab the shampoo from the shelf next to the tub. When I see the label—Philip B Amber Imperial Shampoo—I blurt out, “Holy shit.”
“What?” Lincoln turns his head to the side and I cry out, plunging myself back into the water.
“Don’t look! That was just my reaction to this shampoo. It’s a crazy expensive brand.”
“Oh.”
“I feel bad even using this.”
“Don’t. I’ll pay the cabin owner back for everything we use.”
I smile as I open the shampoo. Again, he’s making me feel like we’re an us. I’ve never truly been part of an us. My first boyfriend, who I met in college, went to a different school than I did, so we didn’t spend a lot of time together. My second boyfriend was an attorney who worked crazy hours and we only saw each other once or twice a week.
“Maybe I can write a guest blog for a beauty magazine after this,” I say as I lather my hair. “Best beauty products to use when you’re stranded in the wilderness.”
He hums his amusement. “Probably not many people in that situation.”
“True. This shampoo smells like heaven.”
I close my eyes, breathing in the warm amber scent mingled with the coconut-scented bubble bath. With the crackle of the blazing fire, this feels like a luxury spa.
At least until I open my eyes again. Lincoln is still sitting with his back to me, looking at nothing but the cabin wall.
“I’m craving a chocolate shake,” he says.
“That sounds incredible. With six inches of whipped cream on top.”
I wash, rinse and condition my hair, feeling more like myself than I have since the crash. If I was alone in the cabin, I’d sit here for a long time, but I feel bad about Linc staring at the wall.
I’ve put my hands on the sides of the tub, ready to get out, when I realize I forgot something crucial.
“I don’t have a towel.”
“I can get you one. Where are they?”
My heart races at the thought of him seeing me naked. How could I forget about a towel?
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen any.”
There’s a second of silence before he says, “Want me to look in the storage room?”
“No! Stay where you are. I’ll figure it out.”
I sit up in the tub, crossing my arms over my chest and looking around. There’s nothing within my reach but the little rug next to the tub.
“There are dish towels in the kitchen,” Linc offers. “In the drawer by the coffee maker.”
I can’t walk across the cabin while soaking wet. I’d get the floors wet and have to turn my back to him to get the towels. I briefly consider just living in the bathtub forever.
“Will you blindfold yourself and get me a couple of towels?”
He scoffs, amused. “No. I could trip over something and hurt myself and I’m the only able-bodied person here.”
Good point. I sigh softly.
“Hey Trin, are you covered in scales or something?”
I furrow my brow. “No.”
“I’m not going to look, and even if I did, you’ve got a great body.”
My lips part and my pulse pounds, my inner feminist wilting at how good his compliment makes me feel.
“It’s not about whether you’d like it. I’m a private person.”
“Do you want me to get you the towels or not?”
I sink down below the water’s surface from the neck down again. “Yes. Throw them over here or something.”
He moves from the bed, my gaze tracking him as he walks across the cabin to the kitchen and gets out two towels. Looking down at the ground, he approaches me, my heart hammering like a drum.
Half of me wants him to look and half of me doesn’t. He shields his eyes as he drops the two towels onto the rug beside the bathtub.
I quickly get out of the tub as he stands next to the bed, his back to me.
“Hey, I’d never sneak a look at you taking a bath or make a move on you,” he says out of nowhere. “I’m not like that.”
His words are more disappointing than I would have expected.
“Oh. Are you gay?”
He laughs softly. “No. I’m just not a guy who takes advantage of situations. You’re Dalton’s sister and he trusts me with you.”
I side-eye his back as I finish drying myself and put my clothes back on. I’m not going to argue with him because I’d have no dignity left by the end of that conversation. If he doesn’t see me as a grown woman capable of making my own decisions, I’m not going to try to change his mind.
“Bath is all yours,” I say, grabbing my book and limping over to the bed to lie down.
It takes every ounce of my self-control not to sneak even one look as he undresses and bathes, but I force myself not to. I want him to think it’s because I’m not interested in what he looks like.
Even though it’s a complete lie and I’m still daydreaming about lying against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around my back.