Chapter 4
Does shivering count as exercise?
Weston
“T here.” I step back from the roaring fireplace. “As long as you keep the fire going, you should stay warm enough.”
“Thank you.” Scarlett clears her throat. “I … um …. made some soup.” She motions to the kitchen nook where she’s set out bowls of soup.
I join her at the table. “You’re lucky the stove is gas.”
“You don’t think the candles are romantic?” She motions to the candles she lit and set all over the cabin.
“Snow, fire, candles. You’ve got all the romance boxes checked.”
Her cheeks darken. “I didn’t think. I mean I’m not… This isn’t…”
I chuckle. “I was teasing you.”
“Oh.” Her mouth forms a perfect O and I can’t help but think of how she’d look with her pink, pouty lips surrounding my cock.
I shift in my seat as my pants tighten. No getting a hard-on around Scar the nerdy bookworm.
Except there’s obviously more to Scarlett than being a bookworm. She didn’t hesitate to rush out to help me with my car. She even fell on her ass trying to help.
“You didn’t hurt yourself when you fell, did you?”
Her cheeks darken further as she pushes her glasses up her nose. “Um. No. I’d be in trouble if I hurt myself every time I fell.”
I grin. “I remember you had two left feet in high school.”
She scowls. “Name calling is hurtful.”
“Shit. Sorry.” I keep sticking my foot in my mouth with her. I’m usually much smoother with women. Scarlett throws me off my game.
Game? This isn’t some game. I’m not hitting on a woman who’s stuck in a cabin without electricity during a snowstorm. I’m not an asshole. Usually.
“Eat your soup.” She picks up her spoon and begins eating.
I taste the chicken noodle soup and moan. “This is good.”
She shrugs. “It’s just canned soup.”
“I’ve had canned chicken noodle soup before. This is not the same thing.”
“I added some sautéed onions, celery, and carrots. It’s not a big deal.”
“Agree to disagree. It tastes homemade.”
“I don’t have any bread but there are some crackers.”
Scarlett with the scathing tongue can’t handle a compliment. She’s adorable. I shake my head. What am I thinking? She hates me for how I treated her in high school. While I barely remember her. Maybe I am an asshole.
“Crackers are fine.”
“Did you phone a friend to come pick you up?” She glances outside and frowns. “I don’t know if a friend should be coming to pick you up. The roads are bad.”
I scratch my chin. “About that. I’m afraid the cell towers are down. I couldn’t get through to anyone.”
“I’m sorry you got stuck here with me.”
I frown at her self-deprecating. Why wouldn’t I want to be stuck in a log cabin with Scarlett during a snowstorm?
I waggle my eyebrows. “I bet we can figure out a way to entertain ourselves.”
She giggles. “You’re a bad boy.”
“But I’m good at it.”
She rolls her eyes. “Who says? You sure they weren’t faking it?”
I gasp. “Scarlett Harris. Do you doubt my prowess?”
“You remember my last name?”
Guilt hits me. I can’t believe I didn’t remember who she was when she opened the door. In my defense, she used to wear the ugliest glasses, and her clothes were always oversized. Most people wouldn’t have realized the hottie at the door was the awkward girl from high school.
I grin. “I’m not just a pretty face.”
“Ah. Did the women lie to you about having a pretty face, too?”
“And they say I’m a troublemaker.” I gather our bowls and stand.
I stagger and have to grab the edge of the table before I fall.
Scarlett jumps to her feet and grasps my arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just a bit dizzy.”
She places her hand on my forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“Actually, I don’t feel too good.”
She wraps an arm around my waist and leads me to the living room. “Here. Sit on the sofa.”
I flop down since my muscles have apparently decided to stop working.
“Are you sweating?” She places her hands on my cheeks. “You are. We need to get you out of these heavy clothes.”
“Never had a woman make up a fever to get me undressed before.”
“You can give me the lame pick-up lines after your fever has broken.” She wrestles with the buttons of my shirt. I allow her since the room is spinning.
“When did we get on the tilt-a-whirl? I don’t enjoy carnival rides. My sister. Do you know Sophia? She’s five years younger.”
She murmurs words I can’t understand. I take her words as a yes.
“She loves carnival rides. She’ll ride the rollercoaster at Mermaid Mystical Gardens over and over again. Never mind it’s a kiddie rollercoaster.”
My world tilts and I realize I’m staring at the ceiling. “This log cabin is nice. I can understand why Hermit Jeremy never went anywhere. Why go out when you live in this place?”
Scarlett places a wet towel on my forehead and I sigh. “Feels nice.”
“Do you think you can swallow a pill?”
“Sorry, darling. You must have me confused with someone else. I’m not the swallowing kind.”
She tugs on my hand until I’m sitting up.
“Why am I sitting? I was enjoying the tilt-a-whirl.”
“I thought you didn’t like the tilt-a-whirl.”
“It’s better when someone places a wet towel on your forehead. I didn’t know the tilt-a-whirl did that.”
She giggles. “This should help break the fever.” She waves a pill in front of my face.
I scowl. “The waving is giving me a headache. How is this helping?”
“You need to take this pill. Open up.”
I open my mouth and she pops the pill in. She places a glass of water against my lips. “Tilt your head back. Now swallow.”
I groan. “That hurt. Why did you make me swallow a razor? I thought we were becoming friends.”
“We are, Weston. We are. Now why don’t you take a nap?”
“I’m not much of a napper but sleep sounds good.”
She helps me to lay down and places a blanket on top of me. And then, to my surprise, she kisses my cheek. “Feel better, Weston.”
I cuddle into the blanket. “Already do with you watching over me.”
“I’ll be here when you wake up.”