Chapter 8 - Reece
She doesn’t flinch when I brace her lower back with my palm as we cross through the blisteringly cold expanse to her cabin.
I shouldn’t enjoy touching her as much as I do.
But meeting her, getting to see the way her smile lights up her blue eyes, how she rolls her lip between her teeth as she concentrates, and the genuine look of awe when I dote on her…it makes me want to do it again.
“Whew!” She leads me into her small rental in a swirl of snow.
Pushing the door shut, the silence that hits me makes it painfully obvious that we’re suddenly alone.
“Okay, let’s get this lit and comfy in here.” Flashing her a smile, I push past her to the fireplace.
Huh. No wonder. She has three hefty logs in there. No kindling. No tinder.
With a glance, I find a hatchet propped near the woodpile, and quickly go to work splitting down a few pieces against the rocky hearth.
“The flame is like a baby,” I grunt with another swing. “You have to give it little bites to grow.” In a moment, I have a pile big enough to start a few fires.
Squatting in front of the grate, I wave her over. “Come here, I’ll teach you how to be an ember momma,” I chuckle, balling up a piece of newspaper from the tinderbox.
Her giggle warms a spot deep in my belly.
“I’ve always wanted to be a mother.” When she rests her palm on my shoulder to watch, the ray of heat turns to a sizzle that makes my cock twitch behind my zipper.
An irrational urge to give her what she wishes for, in more ways than one, flashes through my mind.
I have to clear my throat to refocus myself. “Make a nest with the paper, then cover it with the small pieces, like this.” I prop the slivered wood into a teepee shape, then rearrange the large rounds like a roof over the pile.
“You want to build it from the fastest burning to the slowest. This little stuff is what makes the coals that lights the bigger ones.” When I glance up, her cheek is only inches from mine.
Her full, lower lip is poised between her white teeth in concentration.
When I flick the lighter, the tiny flame eats into the paper, then grows to envelop the ragged splits of the kindling.
With a squeal, her fingers tighten on my arm. “Oh my gosh, you’re so good at this!”
Fuck, I want to hear that sound again.
Unfortunately, I am too good at it, because the heat starts to come off the logs in waves.
Standing, I make myself take a half of a step away. “All you’ll need to do now is keep it fed. Don’t go too long, or it can be a pain to get restarted.”
Or let it go out, so I can come back and hear that noise break from her throat when I stoke her flames.
It’s strange, I’m around models and actresses all of the time, but her genuine reaction is so much more alluring than any of the stilted, practiced behaviors of the women in the city.
Dean’s right, it is refreshing.
And addictive.
“Thank you so much, you made that look easy!” The flush of excitement rushing up the cords of her throat makes her practically glow in the flickering orange light.
“Anytime.” Pushing on my thighs to stand, I almost catch my stiff dick in the crease of my jeans.
I don’t think she saw me readjust.
“Did you want to come back for lunch?” I twirl my finger in the crispy air. “Until this warms up?”
The pink triangle of her tongue darts over her lower lip. “I can be over in a few minutes?” She gives me a shy smile. “I didn’t get much of a chance to clean up before rushing over.” Her brows raise and pinch high on her forehead.
“Ah, yes. No hurry. I don’t think any of us have any pressing deadlines for a little while.” I give her a broad grin and move towards the door.
“Thank you.” She rushes forward and crushes her chest against mine in a fast hug.
I’m glad we’re both wearing thick coats so she can’t feel what she’s doing to me before she backs away.
“Anytime.” I give her another quick wink, then leave.
Although it’s tempting as hell to stay for another embrace. Maybe a kiss.
Maybe a baby.
Walking on thin ice with that train of thought.
“How’d it go?” Dean asks from the kitchen.
The heady smell of meat and potatoes steams from a pot hanging near the fire.
“Fine. Got her blazin’,” I chuckle and shed my coat.
His eyes narrow. “What does that mean?”
I kick off my boots and pad to the sink to wash my hands. “She gave me a hug.” I drop my voice, taunting him.
His teeth grind, but he doesn’t say anything.
Yet his knife slicing through the tomatoes for a salad lands just a little harder onto the cutting board.
Freezing water numbs my fingers as I wash them. “Crap. I never thought about the hot water. At least the spigot works.”
Dean glances at me, then back to the food. “It’s spring fed, remember? You’re the one who told me about that as a selling point.”
“Still gonna make a mighty fucking cold shower.” After drying my hands, I stuff my palms under my arms to warm them up.
“Maybe you need one,” he grumbles, then scoops the tiny red cubes into the wood bowl.
“Jealous, hubby?” I jokingly smack his ass making him jump.
His glower makes me laugh so hard I almost lose my breath.
“You know—” His finger waves in a tight circle at me. “—that’s likely the only reason she’d even touch you. She thinks you’re safe.”
“Ouch.” I grip my chest, then grab the handle in the pot to stir the luscious stew he’s started. “She’s always safe with me.”
His eye roll is almost audible.
Wait, it was a knock at the door.
Dean beats me to it.
“I see how it is,” I whisper as he opens it.
With a haughty smirk, he opens it for Stacy.
“Hi, neighbor. Please, come in.” He swings his hand out in a grand gesture and backs out of her way.
“Oh my gosh, it smells amazing in here.” Her big blue eyes widen as she unbuttons her coat.
“Let me,” Dean says softly, holding the collar to let her pull her arms free.
“You’re very kind.” Her words are so low I can barely hear them.
After dragging a few more coals under the simmering cookpot, I work my way into the kitchen while Dean follows her from the entryway.
“Drink? We have a full bar.” I grab a glass, poised on her answer.
“Um, I’m not sure. Something warm. That coffee was delicious.” Pink tinges her cheeks.
I squint at her. “Maybe something that carries a little of its own heat? Hot toddy, perhaps? Espresso martini?” Rocking the crystal, I wag my brows encouragingly.
Ah, that caught her attention.
“That sounds lovely.” She glances between Dean and I. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You’re our guest,” Dean clips. “Have a seat and tell us what you love to do in your free time.” He graces her with one of his rare smiles.
Always a director, telling her now what to do.
She folds herself back into the leather chair she occupied earlier, tugging the fleece throw over her knees.
Good girl, she’s getting comfortable.
“Well, when I’m not working? My friend Amy and I love to stay up too late watching movies with a bottle of wine. In the summer, I sometimes go up to Lake Erie and help my brother on his fishing boat.” Her fingers twist the corner of her blanket as she watches us.
“Really? What does he catch?” I bring her drink to her, and give the pot on the stove another stir.
“Perch, mainly. Wait, your water works?” She focuses on balancing the warm cup.
“Your’s doesn’t?” Dean’s voice drops into a concerned tone. “Hmm, I wonder if your pipes are frozen?” His lips flatten into a scowl dishing up the salad.
She tucks a stray lock of her auburn hair behind her ear. “What does that mean?”
When he looks up at her, his features soften. “The good news is, we will get to see a little more of you while they thaw. As long as they don’t burst, you’ll have it back again in a few hours.”
Her mouth makes a perfect circle, reinvigorating my dick.
“Until the power comes back on, it’ll still be cold though.” I point to the teapot near the flames. “Might not hurt to keep some water near your fire.”
“Oh, that’s a really good point. You guys act like you’ve dealt with this before?” She sips on her drink with a look of bliss and lets out a small moan.
I flash Dean a cocky grin. My bartending skills did that to her.
A muscle under his left eye twitches.
But it stops when he rapidly stirs the vinaigrette before pouring it over the three bowls.
“We lived in a very rural area before moving to the city.” He carries two bowls with silverware, one for her, one for me, before he grabs his from the counter.
She takes another long swallow, then sets her glass down to take the first course. “I think I’ll consider myself very lucky for having you here.”
Dean settles into his chair as we all dig into our lunch. “No, dear. We are the lucky ones.”