Chapter Ten
Jack hovered outside the door to Ellie’s room, more than a little apprehensive about what the next few hours would bring. But since he’d run out of legitimate stall tactics, there wasn’t much more to do besides get on with it already. He knocked softly on her door and waited.
“Come in.”
He didn’t know what he expected to find, but half a dozen candles casting a warm glow over the whole room wasn’t it. “Whoa.”
Ellie, who was standing at the small stretch of counter in the kitchenette, turned. “Sorry for the romantic vibes. I figured being able to see without blinding each other with headlamps would be preferable.”
He chuckled as he flicked his off. “Fair.”
“So, no grilled cheese, but I did buy some fancy cheese and salami and stuff, so we can rock a charcuterie board if you’re into that.”
“I’m never going to say no to aged cheese and cured meat. As long as you’re sure you don’t mind sharing.” Though, now that he knew that was an option, the trail mix and granola bars he’d rustled from his truck seemed extra sad.
“I’m sure. Besides, having company makes it easier to justify a whole spread. And I love a whole spread.” She pointed to a bottle of cabernet. “Wine?”
It didn’t seem like a great idea, but damn if it didn’t sound nice after the day he’d had. “Sure.”
She poured two glasses and handed him one. “Here’s to the power coming back on soon.”
General misgivings about the evening or not, he could drink to that. “Cheers.”
Ellie sipped her wine before shifting her attention back to the cutting board. “Make yourself comfortable.”
He considered his options. Bed? Nope. Even the chair in the corner felt just a little too casual. And it was currently home to a black cat with bright green eyes he assumed was Emily Dickinson.
Since they’d probably eat at the table, he perched on one of the delicate metal chairs of the vintage bistro set and hoped he didn’t send it collapsing beneath him.
It proved sturdier than it looked, and he let himself relax.
Okay, relax might be an overstatement, but he settled back and crossed his ankle over the opposite knee.
“So, um, how are you liking staying in the house?” he asked.
Ellie carried a large plate—practically overflowing with cheeses, salamis, olives, and crackers—to the table. “It’s weird but also really great. And I couldn’t ask for a better commute.”
“There is that.” He gestured to the spread. “Looks like enough for a party.”
Ellie laughed. “I may have gone overboard. Getting snowed in does that to a girl.”
“Despite current evidence to the contrary, I’m all about being prepared.” And being caught so ill-prepared still had him on edge.
“A regular Boy Scout.” Ellie lifted a hand. “Assuming the Boy Scouts weren’t so obnoxious and homophobic.”
They hadn’t discussed politics or queerness or anything else, at least not explicitly. But the phrasing helped him relax. Again, as relaxed as he could be stranded with a gorgeous woman who seemed hell-bent on getting chummy no matter how much he tried to avoid it. “Obviously.”
Despite his comment about there being enough for a party, they put a sizable dent in the food.
He hadn’t realized how hungry he’d gotten shoveling and freaking the fuck out.
When Ellie got up to put away the leftovers, Jack stood as well.
He wasn’t sure where he was going exactly, but that was hardly the point.
He continued to hover awkwardly while Ellie pulled blankets and another quilt from the small closet, wondering if he should offer to sleep in the study. The reality of no heat loomed, however, and logic won out.
Ellie dropped the armful she’d gathered on the bed. “I’m glad I decided to keep all these here instead of putting them in storage.”
“I’m glad, too.”
“So.” She eyed him expectantly.
“So.” He eyed his feet.
“Thoughts?” she asked.
Jack glanced at the armchair, then the bed. He reluctantly returned his gaze to Ellie. “We should probably sleep together,” he said.
“Is that so?” Ellie’s expression was unreadable.
“I don’t mean sleep together, sleep together.” He shot her a dubious gaze. “For the record.”
She smirked. “Well, as long as it’s for the record.”
Irritation over being teased gave way to just how ridiculous their situation was. “You know what I meant.”
“I did. I do. You’re just so fucking easy to tease. I’m sorry.” Ellie looked at the floor, but when her gaze returned to Jack’s it didn’t hold even a trace of reticence.
“I don’t think you are,” he said, but without any bite.
“Maybe a little.” She eyed the bed. “I think you’re right. It’s only a little chilly now, but it’s going to get real cold real quick. Sleeping together means combining body heat but also sharing the blankets I have.”
It would certainly get them through the night. And whether they got plowed out the next day or not, he’d use the daylight hours to figure something out. “I promise to be a perfect gentleman.”
Ellie clicked her tongue, and her expression made it clear the comment landed as ridiculous as it sounded in his own ears.
He angled his head, took a chance. “For the record.”
She laughed then, a lovely and rich sound that had him thinking several ungentlemanly things. “I wasn’t going to admit this, but I’m glad you’re here.”
Jack thought about his house and his bed, his favorite sweatpants. He thought about Dorothy and Sophia curled up in their beds, burritoed in their favorite blankets. Then he thought about Ellie being here alone. He didn’t have a hero complex, but even he balked at the prospect. “I am, too.”
She gave him a dubious look. “I’m sure you’d rather be home.”
“Obviously.” He tried for a playful eye roll and hoped it translated. “But no one should be trapped in a blizzard alone. Especially not when the power goes out.”
Ellie tsked. “That’s awfully gallant of you, Jack Barrow.”
“Just don’t let it get out, okay?”
“Your secret is safe with me.” She made a buttoning gesture over her lips, and it was a hell of a lot cuter than Jack wanted to admit.
After generously giving him her spare toothbrush and insisting he go first, Ellie went to the bathroom to change.
Jack sat to pull off his boots. His socked feet hit the cold floor, and he realized how much the temperature in the room had fallen.
He hurried to take off his work pants and flannel shirt, grateful the T-shirt underneath had escaped the dirt and dust of the basement.
After a moment of hesitation, he slid into the far side of the bed.
Better that than to have Ellie find him standing around in his boxers.
Ellie emerged in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms covered in rainbows and a long-sleeved tee. She wasted no time getting in next to him and tugging the blankets up to her chin. “Brr.”
“I know.” Jack cleared his throat. “I, uh, I’m sorry I don’t have anything to sleep in.”
Ellie rolled to face him and eyed him with amusement. “I don’t suppose I could interest you in a pair of my leggings.”
He winced. “If it bothers you, I can. I don’t want to be a jerk about it.”
“You’re not. I think most guys feel the same.” She shook her head. “I don’t see how they’re any different than long johns, though.”
He hadn’t thought of it that way, and suddenly wished he was wearing some. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because it’s so obvious.” She rocked her head side to side. “And because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”
Given her lack of qualms when it came to giving him a hard time, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a certain gender sensitivity in her reasoning now. He appreciated that. “I totally would, but now I feel bad about making you get up.”
“As long as you’re comfortable, that’s all that matters.”
He actually was. Even in the dead of winter, he never slept in more than what he currently had on. “Then let’s stay put and preserve the warmth we have.”
Ellie burrowed further under the covers. “Deal.”
“If I snore, just smack me.”
She quirked a brow. “How likely is that?”
“Eh? Depends on who you ask.” Only after saying it did the implications register. “I mean, my sister swears I do, but she might be lying.”
“Well, I guess same here. Though I’ve never had any complaints.” Ellie winked.
“It’s your bed,” Jack said. “You’re entitled.”
“Then I’ll admit I’ll likely put up with snoring to keep your body heat.”
Jack coughed. They’d officially strayed much deeper into banter territory than he was comfortable with. Though talking about sharing body heat perhaps strayed into flirting territory. Either way, it was not where he needed his thoughts going.
“Sorry. I promise I’ll be a proper lady to your perfect gentleman.”
Even with only a lone candle still burning, he could make out the gleam in her eye that in no way matched her words. “I’ll, uh, see you in the morning.”
Ellie grinned, making him feel like a complete oaf. “Good night, Jack.”
She rolled away to blow out the candle, plunging them into complete darkness.
She settled back in beside him, letting out this little sigh that made him think of other ways he might get her to make such a satisfied sound.
He squeezed his eyes shut, hating the way T made him feel like a horny teenager sometimes.
Much of the time. All the time. Even when the rest of him knew better. “Good night, Ellie.”
* * *
Ellie woke with her back pressed against Jack’s front, Jack’s arm draped around her middle.
It was impossible to know whether she’d wiggled herself into that position or if he’d curled around her in the night.
Perhaps it was mutual, even if unconsciously done.
What she did know was that he felt fucking fantastic.
Strong and solid and—though it seemed like a strange descriptor to use—peaceful.
She’d slept better than she had in weeks.
She resisted the urge to stretch or roll around, not wanting to wake him and break the spell. Because surely he wouldn’t cuddle her like this on purpose. She wouldn’t either. Even if she could admit wanting to.