Chapter 4
COOPER
Neighbor? What the fuck?
It took a beat for me to process who was calling and then— “Silas?”
“Mmm. Sss-yes.”
“Where are you?”
“Dunno. Ssss-sidewalk…going h-h-home.” His voice was weak and sounded distorted, as if he were in a tunnel.
There were no tunnels on Belvedere, so I wasn’t sure what that was all about. Nonetheless, I was out of my chair, stuffing my arms in my jacket, and racing for the door in seconds flat. I shouted a harried good-bye at Layla but didn’t stop to explain where I was going. To be honest, I wasn’t sure.
I jumped into my truck and headed south toward home, diligently scanning the sidewalks and roads.
My windshield wipers worked triple-time to combat the fat flakes coming down at a deceptively lazy speed.
Hours of nonstop snow had blanketed the entire town.
And while it was pretty and almost magical-looking, it was dangerous too.
I slowed behind Jerry O’Malley’s van and pressed the Call button on my console. I had no business doing a search-and-rescue operation on my own. If Silas was in bad shape, he’d need medical assistance.
“Call 9-1—whoa!”
There he was. A lone figure with groceries strewn at his feet in the middle of Snowmageddon.
Silas was hunched over, his hands covering his mouth in what was probably a futile attempt to stay warm.
I swerved around the van and made a sharp right onto Ketel Lane. I slammed my door and raced toward him, fumbling for the gloves in my pocket.
“Hey. L-l-look who’s h-h-here.” Silas’s jaw worked overtime, his teeth chattering like a renegade typewriter.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” I exploded. “You’re frozen.”
“N-n-no sh-sh-shit, Sh-sherlock.”
“Put these on and come with me.” I shoved my gloves at him, picked up the groceries, and gestured for him to follow.
Silas dropped the gloves and stumbled like Frankenstein.
Fuck. How long had he been out here? He was in worse shape than I’d have thought.
I left the gloves where they’d landed, set the bags on the ground, and put his right arm over my shoulders, pulling him along as if I were dragging him out of a burning building.
“Wait. Soup.”
I paused for a beat, unsure what he meant till he pointed at the bags. “Yeah, don’t worry about those. I’ll get them. Let’s just get you out of the cold.”
Thankfully, I’d parked close by and was able to get him inside the truck quickly.
I blasted the heat and went back to retrieve my gloves and the groceries.
My timing was impeccable. The heavens opened even more, and suddenly those pretty snowflakes looked more like a gauzy white curtain.
Icy wind nipped at my nape, sending shivers up my spine as I dove behind the wheel. Phew.
I glanced over at Silas, who sat forward with his knuckles pressed to the vent.
“Sss better,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Put your seat belt on. Let’s get you home.”
“Can’t.”
I frowned. “Can’t what?”
“Move. Fingers stuck.” He lifted his hand and shrugged.
“Here. Gimme your hand.”
Silas didn’t argue. I suspected he didn’t have the energy. But he widened his eyes comically when I rubbed his palms between mine.
“Nice,” he hummed.
“Good. If you can feel that, you’re in fine shape.”
“I can’t feel my pinkies or this one.” He waggled his middle finger.
“Are you really flipping me off?” I joked.
Silas’s snort-laugh had a manic tone. “No. Wrong one. It’s this one. I used to have a ring on it. Not anymore.”
I let go of his hand and studied my unexpected detour of the day.
Like it or not, my good deed of the morning had morphed into something more.
I’d never set eyes on this guy in my life and yet over the past few hours, I’d volunteered to shovel his fucking car in his driveway and rescued his ass from near frostbite. Sure, I always tried to help where I could, but this was a lot. And the snowstorm added another element.
This stretch of Belvedere was usually busy, but now…it was ghostly quiet. Just the odd vehicle on the road. Which meant that for all intents and purposes, I’d somehow become a caregiver to a stranger with hypothermia. No. I couldn’t be responsible for him.
“I’m going to take you to the clinic. They can treat you for—”
“No,” he interrupted. “No f-f-fucking way. I don’t want to be a headline, and I’m fine.”
“A headline?”
“F-football.”
“Uh…”
“I’m f-fine. Cold and stiff, but…” A lock of wet hair fell across Silas’s forehead as he shifted to face me. “If you could give me a ride, that would b-b-be great.”
This was just the beginning of the storm, so wherever he went was where he’d be for up to twenty-four hours. He’d definitely be more comfortable at his buddy’s cabin than the clinic, and while I was no nurse, I knew that getting warm and dry was the key.
“Yeah, okay. Seat belt.”
Silas snickered, and yep…he sounded deranged. “Can’t do it.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I reached across the console, pulled on the strap, and secured it. I buckled my own, and carefully inched the truck onto the slick road.
Eddie Money serenaded us about two tickets to paradise for less than half a mile before the airwaves were clogged with static. I silenced the radio, turned the windshield wipers up to maximum speed, and drove like a fucking snail through near whiteout conditions.
A few inches of snow had fallen since this morning on Red Oak Lane.
I slowed in front of Silas’s driveway but quickly decided he was better off at my house for now.
I didn’t want to waste time searching for blankets or clothing.
Silas was broader than me and maybe an inch taller, however, I knew I had a pair of sweats that might fit him… and some long johns too.
I eased the garage door up, parked, and hurried to the passenger side to help Silas. He’d become Frankenstein again—every little move was gangly and awkward. I breathed a sigh of relief the moment we were inside the house, where it was warm and toasty.
“Where am I?” Silas asked, his bottom lip trembling with cold.
“My place. Let’s get you dry. Take your clothes off. I’ll grab a pair of long johns for you and make a fire.”
“Yeah…okay.” He didn’t move a muscle, and it took less than a second for me to realize that he couldn’t.
“Shit.” I rubbed my jaw in frustration, then guided him into the living room. “Sit on the coffee table. That’s good. Now give me your foot.”
He obeyed. “Sss cold still, huh?”
“Better than outside. Your sneakers are toast. Remind me to yell at you later for attempting to walk home in this mess.” I carefully rolled his wet socks off, wincing at his deathly pale skin that verged on blue.
I pulled a throw blanket from the arm of the sectional sofa facing the hearth and wrapped his feet in it. “We’ve got to get you warm.”
I started a fire, put water in the electric kettle, and raced upstairs for towels, a blanket, and extra clothing. Silas had unzipped his jacket, but the effort exhausted him.
He stared at the embers sparking to life, sparing me a curious once-over as I dropped the supplies onto the floor next to him. “You’re back.”
“Yep. Time to strip out of the wet stuff,” I said, tugging his coat sleeves off his arms. With his help, I removed Silas’s sweater and T-shirt and handed him a pair of long johns. “Put these on. They’ll keep you warm.”
“Long John Silver.” He snickered with his head stuck in the fabric.
I yanked it down, my fingernails trailing along Silas’s muscular abs. Christ, he was big all over and built like a god—toned, taut, and defined. Simply put, the man was hot. Don’t judge. You’d have to be lacking a pulse not to notice. I was alive and well, and…I appreciated the human form.
But I wasn’t a creeper. His golden skin was already decidedly pale, and my touch seemed to have triggered a new bout of goose bumps. “Sorry, but your jeans are soaking wet. Take those off too. Do you need help?”
“N-no. I can do it.”
He couldn’t. His fine motor skills were shot, and he needed to get warmer faster. I cranked the heater while Silas fumbled with his belt and returned to stoke the fire till it was blazing.
“How’re you doin’ there?” I asked.
“It’s…I’m…”
“You need to let me help you, Silas. I know this is weird, and we don’t know each other, but you’re gonna have to trust me. You have to be completely dry…no wet jeans, no wet briefs. Understand?”
Silas’s lips curled in amusement. “I’ve lived in locker rooms for twenty years. I don’t care if you see my d-dick.”
“Great. Stand up.”
He swayed into my space and wobbled on his feet. I had a hard time getting the wet leather strap through his belt buckle, and his hulking proximity made it extra awkward. Finally, I was able to unbutton, unzip, and push his jeans and briefs over his ass.
His rather spectacular ass, I might add. I averted my gaze and gave Silas room to undress with a modicum of privacy. He just couldn’t do it alone.
“I’m trapped. The blanket is…”
I turned automatically and almost swallowed my tongue.
Silas Anderson was a god…with a very nice cock. Given the circumstance, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been walnut-sized—at least for the moment—but it hung between his thighs like a rope. Not too big, and certainly not small. Just right.
True to his word, nudity didn’t faze Silas. At all.
I bent at his feet, unwrapped the blanket, and urged him to step out of the denim one leg at a time. He set a hand on my shoulder for balance and slowly freed himself.
Was his cock dangling in front of my face? Yes.
Was it distracting as fuck? Also yes.
I cleared my throat. “Let’s get the bottoms on…and the socks too.”
“How?”
“Uh…sit on the coffee table again.”
Silas snickered. “Am I free-ballin’?”
“Yeah. I’m not in the habit of sharing boxers.” I helped him pull wool socks onto his icy feet.
“G-g-good point. I like going commando. It’s fr-freeing, ya know?” He sniffed loudly, bending to adjust the socks. “I have to pee.”
“Okay…uh…this way.” I guided Silas to the bathroom, unsure what to do.