Chapter 17
Inside, the warmth hit them like a physical wall. The wood stove had only been smoldering since that morning, but it still filled the small space with a little heat that felt like heaven after being in the bitter cold outside.
But Janice was still shivering. Cole's singular focus was getting Janice out of her wet clothes and warm. Every second counted when dealing with potential hypothermia, and her violent shivering told him they were already pushing the limits.
He immediately moved to the wood stove, throwing in several logs with more force than necessary. The fire caught quickly, flames licking at the new fuel, and heat beginning to radiate through the small space.
Cole grabbed the kitchen chair and dragged it close to the stove, positioning it where Janice would get maximum warmth. When she just stood there shivering, he gently pushed her down into it.
"Sit," he ordered, his voice rougher than he intended. Fear did that to him, making him sound harsh when what he really felt was terror.
He knelt in front of her and pulled off her boots, wincing at the sight. Her socks were soaked through, practically frozen to her feet. He peeled them off carefully, revealing skin that was pale and cold to the touch.
Her feet were too cold. If he didn't warm them properly, frostnip could progress to frostbite.
Cole jerked off his outer coat and then hers, tossing them aside without care for where they landed.
He grabbed the kettle from the counter, filled it with water from the hand pump, and set it on the stove.
Not boiling—he needed it warm, not hot. Too much heat applied too quickly to cold extremities could cause tissue damage.
While the water warmed, he poured the already lukewarm water from the kettle into a bucket. Testing it with his hand, he found it just warm enough to help gradually restore circulation. He positioned the bucket in front of Janice and carefully lifted her feet, lowering them into the water.
She hissed at the contact, her teeth chattering so hard he could hear them clicking together.
"I know," he said softly. "I know it hurts. But we need to warm them up slowly and get the circulation going again."
Then he started stripping off her clothes, purely in survival protocol. There was nothing sexual about his actions. Wet clothes would continue to leech heat from her body, and she needed every bit of warmth she could get.
"Stand up for me," he said, helping her to her feet while keeping one of hers in the bucket for stability.
She wobbled, and he steadied her with one hand while using the other to work her heavy outer pants down, then her thermal leggings, over her hips. His hands were clinical, efficient, even as he was acutely aware of the intimacy of what he was doing.
Don't think about it. Just get her warm. That's all that matters.
She was finally stripped to her underwear, and even those were damp. They needed to come off too, but first he needed to get her into the shower where he could control the temperature and warm her core gradually.
Cole moved to the tiny bathroom and started the shower running, waiting for the water to reach an acceptable temperature. It wasn’t going to get hot, but he’d be happy with warm. Body temperature, maybe slightly above. He tested it with his hand, adjusting until it felt right.
He didn’t trust that she could stand on her own, and the last thing he wanted was for her to fall, possibly hitting her head in the small room.
He stripped down to his boxers, tossing his clothes in a pile on the floor, before going back to Janice, who was still sitting by the stove with her feet in the bucket, shivering violently. "Come on. We're getting in the shower."
She looked up at him with glassy eyes, taking in his state of undress. If she was shocked or embarrassed, she didn't show it. He recognized shock, knowing she wasn’t really focused on what he was or wasn’t wearing.
Cole helped her up and guided her to the bathroom. The space was barely room for one person, let alone two. But he wasn't leaving her alone in there. Not when she could barely stand on her own.
He left her underwear on, but he held her with steady hands that belied the way his heart was pounding. God, she was beautiful. Even pale and shivering, even in the midst of an emergency, he couldn't help but notice.
Cole tore his gaze away and focused on getting her into the shower. He guided her under the spray, then stepped in behind her. The shower stall was so small that their bodies were pressed together, her front against his chest, no room to maintain any distance.
The water cascaded over them both, warm but not hot. Janice's teeth were still chattering, her whole body trembling against his.
"I've got you," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her to keep her steady. "Just breathe. Let the water warm you up."
She leaned against him, either too weak to stand on her own or simply accepting that he was her support right now. Cole held her, feeling every shiver that ran through her body, feeling the gradual way the violent trembling began to ease as warmth seeped back into her.
His body responded to her nearness in ways that were completely inappropriate given the circumstances.
He tried desperately to tamp down his physical reaction, to ignore the feel of her curves pressed tightly against his body.
Tried to think about anything else… flight school, weapons maintenance, even the goddamn weather forecast. He forced his thoughts away from the fact that he was standing nearly naked in a tiny shower with a beautiful woman.
Her teeth still chattered as they stood under the water, and he adjusted his position slightly, trying to ensure the spray hit her more directly. The movement pressed them even closer together, and Cole bit back a groan.
Think about engine mechanics. Think about filing reports. Think about literally anything except how good she feels against me.
But it was impossible. Every breath brought the scent of her…
something vanilla and uniquely Janice. Every tremor that ran through her body transferred to his.
The water ran over them both, creating an intimacy that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with trust, with survival, with the fundamental human need for warmth and connection.
After what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, the water started to cool. The cabin's small water heater had reached its limit.
"We need to get out," Cole said, his voice rough. "Before the water gets too cold."
He shut off the spray and reached for towels, wrapping one around Janice before grabbing another for himself. She was still shivering, but the violent tremors had subsided to occasional shudders. Better. Much better.
But she was still too cold. He needed to get her dried off and into warm clothes while keeping her body temperature up.
Cole ushered her out of the tiny bathroom and over near the stove again. He dried her with quick, efficient movements, trying not to linger on the intimacy of it. Then he held up a blanket, creating a screen of privacy.
"Strip out of your underwear," he instructed. "They're still damp. I'll hold this up while you do it."
He heard the slap of wet material hit the floor and tried not to imagine what was happening behind the blanket. When she was done, he wrapped it around her fully, then turned away.
"I'm going to get dressed," he said. "Then I'll get you some dry clothes."
In the bathroom, he pulled on dry boxers and sweatpants and reached for a thermal shirt when he walked back out into the main room. Janice stood wrapped in the blanket, staring at him in dumb silence as he pulled on the long-sleeved thermal shirt.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned by her silence.
"Damn, you’re built like a Greek god," she said, the words tumbling out before she seemed to realize what she was saying. Then she blinked, her face flushing. "I... I mean... I didn't mean to say that out loud."
She started to apologize, but Cole couldn't help it. He laughed. The tension, the fear, the adrenaline from the past hours all came out in a laugh that felt like relief.
"Don't," he said, still chuckling. "Don't ever apologize for that."
"It wasn't professional," she protested weakly.
"We're not really professionally related, are we?" Cole pointed out, moving closer to her. "We're more like acquaintances who met under unusual circumstances."
A smile slipped out from her, small but genuine, and he was struck once more by her natural beauty. Even with her hair plastered to her head, no makeup, and wrapped in a blanket, she was stunning.
But she needed to finish getting warm. He went to the plastic tub under the bed where he’d seen her pull out clothes, and removed a thermal T-shirt, thick socks, and sweatpants. He also grabbed a bra and a pair of panties. Everything she'd need to stay warm.
"Here," he said, handing them to her. "Get dressed. I'll make us something warm to eat."
He turned away, giving her privacy, and moved to the kitchen corner of the cabin.
His hands were steady now as he pulled out a can of soup and a box of crackers.
Simple food, but it would help warm her from the inside.
Comfort food. Exactly what they both needed after the ordeal they'd just been through.
When he turned around, Janice was dressed in dry clothes and stood by the wood-burning stove, still wrapped in the blanket despite being fully clothed. She looked small and vulnerable in a way that made his chest ache.
Cole brought the bowls over and handed her one, along with a handful of crackers. "Eat. You need to get your core temperature back up."
She took the bowl with both hands, wrapping her fingers around it as though the warmth of the ceramic was as valuable as the food inside. Then she took a sip and sighed contentedly.
"I need to analyze the samples," she said after a few moments of eating in silence, her spoon scraping the bottom of the bowl.
Cole studied her face. The color was back in her cheeks, and her hands were steady as she held the bowl. "Do you feel like you can do that now?"
"Yes," she said, nodding as she smiled. "I'm much warmer. Thanks to you."
Their eyes locked and time seemed to stand still. The air between them felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. Cole wanted to close the distance, to cross that invisible line they'd been dancing around since he'd broken into her cabin yesterday.
Instead, he said, "You don't have to thank me." The words came out softer than he'd intended, almost intimate in the quiet cabin. "But you're very welcome."
Again, their gazes held, and even though he’d only known her for twenty-four hours, he felt something shift inside him. Something fundamental, terrifying, and completely undeniable.
Her little smile gave him hope that whatever it was, she felt it too.