Chapter 10
Quinn let out a jaw-cracking yawn, shaking me out of my thoughts.
“It”s too early for yawning,” she said.
“Not given the day you”ve had. Sleep will help that ankle.”
“I know.” She yawned again.
“Ready for bed?” I asked.
“I don”t want to be, but I think I am.” She tossed back the last of the bourbon. “Can you help me to the bathroom?” I moved to help her stand, but she shook her head. “Would you grab that blue stuff sack I pulled out of my pack?”
“Yeah, sure.” I grabbed the stuff sack, feeling the contents roll around as I lifted it. Toiletries, probably. I slid my arm around her waist and helped her up. We did the walk/hop thing to get her from the table to the bathroom.
“I’ve got it from here,” she said, hopping into the small room and closing the door behind her.
I turned to survey the cabin. The table was clear. Nothing needed cleaning but the dishes we’d eaten on and the cast-iron pan. The water lines to the sink were shut off this time of year, but Quinn had left several full water jugs beside the sink. I had the dishes done and dried in a few minutes.
The fire had the cabin cozy and warm, and there was enough wood stacked beside the stove to keep it going well into the next morning. That brought me to the couch. It had been a perfect fit for Quinn. It was big enough for two adults to sit side by side without being on top of each other, but it was not long enough for me to sleep on. I glanced at the floor. Not a carpet in sight. Despite the woodstove, it was too cold to sleep on the floor. The couch would have to do. I”d slept in less comfortable places.
I carried Quinn’s pack and stuff sacks into the bedroom, putting the sacks back in the pack and leaning it against the side of the bed where Quinn could reach it easily. Her water bottle I placed on the bedside table, switching on the battery-powered lantern she’d put there, casting a warm glow over the room.
She’d said she moved the bed so it faced the window. During the day, it was probably a nice view of the woods. Tonight, it was a yawning hole of darkness. No blinds, no curtains to keep out the cold because this was a hunting cabin and not a fucking house.
And whoever her attacker was, he was still out there. Probably out of the woods completely, if he had any brains at all, but I still didn’t like the idea that anyone could see in.
But she had blankets piled on the bed. A feather comforter and two brightly colored fleece blankets. I went back into the kitchen and headed straight for the toolbox I’d seen earlier. A few small nails and a hammer were all I needed to hang one of the fleece blankets over the window. Security and added insulation. I liked a good two-birds-with-one-stone situation.
I fluffed the blankets remaining on the bed, rolling one into a tube she could elevate her ankle on. She”d be warm enough, especially with the fire going.
The door to the bathroom opened and Quinn hopped out. I met her in the hall, sliding my arm around her waist to get her weight off her right ankle for the short trip to her bed. The scent of Quinn—clean and warm—hit my nose, and I resisted the urge to breathe her in.
She looked from me to the bed and over my shoulder to the couch in front of the fire. “You can have the other side of the bed. The couch is too short for you.”
“I”m good,” I said.
“Hawk. Seriously?” Her eyes flared wide as she gave me an exaggerated head-to-toe scan, then looked at the couch again and shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I”m good,” I repeated, trying to infuse my voice with resolve. I could only say no to her so many times. But no—that wasn’t true. There wasn’t a limit. I’d keep saying no until the end of time because I had to. For her.
“Hawk, come on,” Quinn said. “I can keep my hands to myself. I promise.”
An image of her hands on me burst into my brain, and I had to take a beat to push it back out.
“Sleep tight,” I said, leaving her sitting on the side of the bed, watching me with curious eyes. I didn”t look back.
I tried not to listen as she slid into the bed. It had to hurt. I knew the weight of heavy blankets like that on a twisted ankle wasn’t comfortable. She didn”t make a peep. Didn”t complain. Not that I expected her to. I’d learned Quinn was tough as nails.
I turned off the lanterns in the main room as soon as she turned off the lantern by the bed, and settled into the couch, half sitting up, knees bent. I pulled the blanket over me. With the fire so close, the wool blanket would be plenty. I wouldn’t have any trouble falling asleep. Despite the early hour, Quinn wasn’t the only one who was tired. It had been a hell of a day.
Finding Quinn pinned underneath the man who’d jumped her, fighting him, getting her to safety—all of it was enough to leave me tired once the adrenaline drained away. On top of that, the good meal and excellent bourbon should have had me half asleep already. I would have been if not for the fucking couch.
I slid down farther, propping my feet up on the opposite armrest and adjusting the pillow under my head. Maybe this would work. My neck wasn’t cranked in a weird position anymore. I stared into the fire and tried not to think. About the man in the woods. About Quinn. About anything.
Didn”t work. My brain flip-flopped between Quinn and her attacker. The way he’d handled things bothered me. The zip ties. Those zip ties didn’t come from the hardware store. They were meaty, designed for holding weight. Or for restraining people. And she”d said he”d been focused on restraining her.
What had he planned to do? Where was he going to take her? Once he got her there, what was he going to do with her?
She”d implied he hadn’t touched her sexually. Maybe he wasn’t after rape. I didn”t like that assault was on the table at all. Not where anyone was concerned, but especially not when it came to Quinn. She was fierce but small.
No, not Quinn. Her face melted into faces from the past. I’d seen firsthand the horror of what happened to women in war. I wouldn’t let that happen to Quinn.
I tried rolling to my side, pulling my knees up, then stretching out my top leg, letting it hang off the side. Like every other position I’d tried, that wasn’t much better after a minute or two. If I could shut up my brain, I could fall asleep in any position, but my brain wasn’t taking orders.
“Hawk,” Quinn called out from the bedroom. “I can hear you out there tossing and turning. That couch is like five feet long. I swear I’ll stay on my side of the bed?—”
“Shut it,” I called back, curling up to a half-sitting position.
Maybe I’d just keep watch all night and take a nap in the morning when Quinn was out of bed. But who would watch over Quinn then? And what if something happened? What if?—
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” she said, “if you”re too scared to share with me. You can take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Too close to the door,” I said immediately. There was a window in the bedroom, but the door was the easiest way into the cabin. I wasn’t putting Quinn closest to the most likely entry point.
“Fine, be a stubborn jackass,” Quinn said. “If you won’t come in here, I”m sleeping on the floor in front of the fire.”
I sat up. “Don”t get out of the bed,” I ordered. God, she was muleheaded. And in this, I had to admit she was right. I was being a jackass.
We had a perfectly good bed that was big enough for both of us. We were both adults. I hadn’t looked when I”d stripped her clothes off. Hadn’t touched more than I had to. I could keep my hands to myself. And despite the images that flooded my brain every time she said she would keep her hands to herself, so could she.
“All right,” I said, my mouth moving before my brain was on board. This was a bad idea. Maybe. But her sleeping on the floor with her sprained ankle, so close to the door, was a nonstarter. She wouldn’t get any rest and she’d be vulnerable. I abandoned the couch easily once the decision was made.
The bedroom was colder than the main room.
“You warm enough under there?” I asked, taking in her slight form buried under the heavy blankets.
“Toasty,” she answered, waving her arm at the empty side of the bed. “See, there”s a whole half just for you. I won’t cross over the middle. I promise.”
I looked down at my waterproof hiking pants in the almost full darkness of the bedroom. They were warm and dry, but they weren’t clean.
Reading my mind. Quinn said, “I”m already asleep. I can’t see a thing. Do what you need to do so you can get some rest.”
I nodded, mostly to myself, since I doubted she could see me in the dark. My boxer briefs covered me well enough, along with the T-shirt I wore under my fleece. I slid into the empty side of the bed, painfully aware of Quinn so close. Before I could catch a glimpse of her tucked in beside me, I turned on my side, giving her my back, and pulled up the covers, prepared to wait out the insomnia that would come from having Quinn inches away. The bed was far more comfortable than the couch, but I wouldn’t fall asleep. There was no way.
I woke hours later, lying on my back, Quinn curled on her side, her forehead pressed to my shoulder, the only place we touched. Her arms were wrapped around her pillow, her face at peace. She’d inched to the middle of the bed, probably looking for body heat as the temperature dropped in the cabin. The light flickering from the main room was so dim it almost wasn’t there.
Moving silently, I slid out of the bed. After a stop in the small bathroom, I fed the fire with enough logs to keep it going till morning. The sheets were still warm when I slid back in. The bed was a cozy cocoon, the white sheets almost bright in the darkness. I pulled the covers up, my shoulder nudging Quinn’s forehead.
She let out a sigh and relaxed, her dark hair shining against the white pillowcase, her lashes thick half-moons against her cheeks. There was nothing about her that wasn’t perfect. In the deepest part of me, I knew I could have lain there for the rest of my life with Quinn beside me. Close enough to touch. Close enough to keep. Close enough to pretend she was mine. Just for now. Just for this moment. I could pretend she was mine.
Hours later, my eyelids cracked to see a dim glow at the edges of the blanket I’d hung over the window. An unwelcome twist of relief bloomed in my chest. That fight we had scheduled about going back to the Manor wasn’t going to happen yet. The snow was still falling, and I had an excuse to stay here with Quinn.
Awareness filtered in, and my eyes opened all the way. I was stuck here with Quinn, who was no longer on her side of the bed. Quinn, who was draped across my chest, her breasts soft against me, her breath warm through my T-shirt, one smooth thigh insinuated between my legs, her hip pressing into my very erect cock.
Quinn. I wanted to stay exactly where I was. Forever.
That was the last thing I could do. Mentally, I rescheduled that fight. The second the snow stopped, we were getting out of here. We had to. If we didn’t, I was going to make a mistake I couldn’t take back.