Chapter 3
Rowan
I must doze off, because when I wake Fritha’s snoring lightly, which is a good thing because otherwise she’d feel my boner that’s sticking into her back.
I tried to angle myself so my loins were away from her, but when you’re saving someone from hypothermia, you do what you have to do to keep them warm.
And getting naked into bed with my boss’s granddaughter and the daughter of my late Sergeant is what I had to do.
I’ve got a dead arm and I need to pee, but I watch her sleep for a while longer. The colour has come back to her lips, tingeing them pink, and they’re parted slightly as she breathes in and out. Her hair has dried and it fans out in a tangle of auburn and russet red, like autumn on the pillow.
But it’s what I can’t see that has my heart racing and my dick hard. Her body is pressed into mine, her naked butt cheeks pushed against my thighs.
My arm drapes over her body, and when I coiled myself around her for warmth, I was sure to keep her arms in front of her chest as a barrier between me and her breasts.
But somehow in the time we’ve been asleep her arms have come loose, and now with every rise and fall of her chest her nipples graze my forearm, making the hair stand up on end.
I need to get out of this bed before I do something that’ll get me fired.
The rain pounds the hut roof as relentless as it was a few hours ago when we got here.
Fritha isn’t shaking anymore and the immediate danger of hypothermia has passed, but someone must be looking for her, and I need find a way to get her back to her grandpa.
I slip out of bed without disturbing her and do a quick assessment of the provisions.
I’ve used this hut before. During peak fire season there’s always someone stationed here. That’s how I knew where to find the key and the combination to the safe.
There’s a stack of energy bars, three meal pouches, bottled water, two gas canisters, and half a hip flask of whiskey.
I flick the gas cooker back on to heat the water, then check out the bathroom for supplies. It’s a basic toilet and basin with a cold shower out back. It’s all you need for a few nights in the heat of summer, but woefully inadequate for a spring storm like this.
I find a ranger fleece hanging on a nail, so at least there’s something dry Fritha can put on.
In the corner of the main room is a radio, and I call into the fire house. As predicted, Rodney’s sick with worry.
Fritha left for a hike while he was at work, and he didn’t find out she was gone until he got home. Luckily it’s only been an hour since his shift finished, so the search and rescue haven’t gotten far.
I tell him our location and the state of her health. The storm is pretty bad and I suggest we stay here for the night, but Rodney insists on coming for her.
I hang up the radio, and when I look to the bed, Fritha’s watching me.
“Your grandad’s coming to get you.”
Her eyes widen. “How do you know who I am?”
Because I’ve thought about you every night since last summer.
I’ve known Fritha ever since she was a kid vacationing out here with her grandpa. But it was last summer that she caught my attention when she turned up at the fire station in her summer dress, no longer a child, her body filled out with womanly curves.
I avoided her last summer, not trusting the thoughts I was having about the fire chief’s granddaughter. Besides, she was off to college and then law school and to a life far away from here, to a life better than anything I could offer her.
Now, here she is, practically fallen into my lap, her eyes wide and her lips pouty, and it’s all I can do to restrain myself.
“Of course, I recognize you, Fritha. Your grandad’s got pictures of you all over his office.”
Her posture deflates, and I wonder what I’ve said wrong. The kettle whistles, and I pour hot water into the two mugs and hand her a hot chocolate.
“Sorry, there are no marshmallows.”
She frowns at me, leaving me wondering again what I’ve said wrong.
“I drink coffee now,” she says primly.
“So do I, but hot chocolate will give you more energy.”
I pick mine up off the table and stir it. It’s powdered milk, but it’ll warm us both up until Rodney gets here.
“Did you hear any of that?” I indicate the radio, and she nods.
“Gramps is pretty angry.”
“Relieved,” I say. “He’s relieved that you’re okay. He’ll be here in about an hour.”
Her eyes dart to mine with something like disappointment, and I wonder if I’m not the only one who wants our time together to last longer. Or maybe she thinks I’m a creep for getting into bed almost naked with her.
“I’m ah, sorry about earlier. I thought you had hypothermia.”
She sits up and wraps the comforter around her shoulders. A pink tinge creeps up her neck, and she looks away.
Damn, she’s embarrassed, and I don’t want her to be. Getting her out of her wet clothes was the only way I could stop her shivering.
“I’ve searched for clothes, but this is all I can find that’s dry.” I hold up the ranger’s fleece. “You can wear my clothes with this on top.”
“What will you wear?”
She looks me up and down, and the blush deepens on her cheeks. She looks away quickly and sips her hot chocolate, which is when realize I’m still in my underpants. I’ve been busy checking provisions and radioing her in and making hot chocolate and doing all that in nothing but my underpants.
She peeps at me from over her mug, and I like that she’s checking me out.
I wonder how I look to this young woman, my scarred body inked with stories from my past. The bullet wound that got me discharged from the military on my left thigh where the skin is puckered.
The lines on my face showing my thirty-five years.
My thick arms and solid chest with muscles kept strong by the tasks it takes to be a man living on his own on the side of a mountain.
From the way she’s trying not to look and failing and the rosy colour of her cheeks, I’d say she likes what she sees.
My cock twitches, and that’s a bad thing when you’re standing in only underpants.
I grab my sweatpants and shrug them on, then hand her my t-shirt. I was going to give her my sweatpants too, but they’re better used for covering my boner so I don’t get sued for harassment.
She wiggles into the t-shirt and drops the comforter from around her shoulders. Her breasts are outlined through the fabric, the nipples standing to attention. Either she’s still cold or she’s as hot for me as I am for her.
Which is a bad idea.
Fritha’s sixteen years younger than me. She’s my boss’s granddaughter and her father was my sergeant who saved my life and then got me a job with his father when I was discharged.
My boss, her grandad, is coming to pick her up in an hour. It would be a supremely bad idea to do anything but get her safely into his truck and down the mountain.
“I’ll get us something to eat.”
I have to turn away from her before I do something stupid, like jump back into bed with her and kiss her pouty lips.
I grab one of the pouches from the supply cupboard and empty it into a small saucepan, hoping the distraction of food will calm my racing blood. I only have to get through one hour alone with Fritha. I have to keep from kissing her for one hour, that’s all.
I pull a couple of energy bars from the cupboard and hand one to Fritha while we wait for the pouch to heat.
The radio sparks to life, and it’s Rodney.
“There’s been a slip on the Black Saddle Road.”
I glance at Fritha, and she’s got her brow furrowed.
“Where’s that?” she asks her grandfather.
“The slip’s about ten miles south of where you are.” Black Saddle Road is the only road up the mountain.
“The entire road is blocked, and we can’t clear it with the weather like this.” There’s concern in Rodney’s voice. “Is she safe?”
“We’ve got shelter and supplies,” I assure him. “I’ll keep your girl safe until this rain eases and the road can be cleared.”
Fritha speaks to her grandad while I empty my backpack and add my provisions to our supplies. I always keep essentials in a backpack in my car, a holdover from my army days. You’ve always got to be prepared.
“We’ll be good for at least three days,” I tell Rodney.
“We’ve got food and gas and…” I look to the bed in the corner, thinking about our bodies coiled together for heat.
“…and warmth,” I finish and swallow hard, hoping the indecent thoughts I’m having about his granddaughter don’t come out in my voice.
“Good. Cause it might take that long to clear the road. This rain isn’t stopping anytime soon.”
They’re calling it a once in a generation storm and we’re stuck in the heart of it. It hit earlier than anticipated and I bet Fritha wasn’t the only one caught out.
“Is everyone else on the mountain safe?” I ask.
“Got tourists sheltering all over the place.” Rodney says. “Alex rescued a group of women stranded at the Lonely Ridge Camping Ground.”
He chuckles. “Their eyes bugged out of their head when they saw who it was come to save them.”
Since Alex’s identity came to light there’s been an influx of reporters on the mountain and his face has been all over the papers. There’s no hiding away for him anymore.
I hang up the radio and Fritha’s looking at me, her puppy dog eyes wide.
“Are we stuck here?” Her brow’s furrowed and her lips pouty, and I want to take her cheeks in my hand and kiss the concern away.
I run a hand through my hair to stop from touching her. “Looks like it.”
I could handle one hour stuck with Fritha, but any longer and I don’t know how I’m going to be able to resist her.