Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Later—who knew how long—Lily’s own teeth chattering woke her up. The fire in the stove had burned low. Now its warmth barely reached her, and she was shivering violently on the cold leather couch.
She curled into herself, pulling the blanket closer, but it did nothing to stop the deep chill that had burrowed into her bones. Across the cabin, Rush’s breathing was deep and even, completely undisturbed coming from the bed.
She was exhausted. Bone-deep tired from too many nights lying awake with a heavy sense of impending doom in her chest that she had chalked up to wedding jitters. But her body had other plans now, rattling her teeth together like a wind-up toy, making her convulse violently.
She clenched her jaw and tried to focus on her breathing. In through her nose, slow and steady, out through her mouth. Again. She visualized warmth spreading through her limbs, willing the tremors to stop, but even that didn’t help.
Still, she lay there, miserable, willing herself to stay quiet. The last thing she wanted was to wake him up. He’d already given up his week of solitude at his man-cabin for her. The least she could do was suck it up for the night. She owed him that much, didn’t she?
Lily hated being an inconvenience. Hated knowing she was imposing, even though he hadn’t said a word about it. She wasn’t going to be even more of a problem for him by complaining. She clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut.
A violent shudder went through her, and her teeth clacked together so hard she wondered if she broke one.
“Jesus. You’re gonna freeze on that couch, and neither one of us is gonna get any sleep,” Rush said suddenly. His voice was rough, and somehow he looked even larger in the dark. “Get in. We need to sleep. It’s too cold in this cabin to sleep on the couch.”
“I’m f-f-fine,” she whispered, clenching her teeth around the lie.
Rush sighed, deep and exasperated, and she stiffened even more. Then, he lifted the blanket and held it open. “Get in.” That same bossy sheriff voice that made her a little weak in the knees.
“No, thank you,” she said primly. “I’m fine over here.”
“Lily,” he said with a patience she could tell cost him. “It’s body heat. It’s called survival. It’s not an invitation for anything else.”
She hesitated, looking at the warm, cozy bed, almost salivating at the thought of its warmth compared to the freezing leather. “Where’s your gun?”
She heard a flop back onto the bed and imagined the sound of his teeth gritting. “It’s put away, and the cuffs are, too, if that’s your next question.”
It absolutely was.
Still, she hesitated. He didn’t seem like a man plotting anything nefarious, but how would she know? She had never slept with anyone besides Tucker. Her entire experience with men was limited to one less-than-stellar example, and she knew she could be a little na?ve when it came to sex.
“How do I know you’re not a secret serial killer?” she managed to say, but it came out disjointed with her teeth clattering.
“Suit yourself,” he said. She could just make out his broad shoulders shrugging. He dropped the blanket back in place and settled back into bed.
Something in Lily snapped. For the sake of her sanity, and the health of her teeth, she told herself, she’d sleep in the same bed.
She gripped the blanket tighter around herself and padded over to place a tentative knee on the mattress.
She could make out the glint of silver handcuffs resting on the nightstand, and she shivered again, less from the chill this time and more from the sight.
She hesitated, half on and half off the bed.
A low growl rumbled from the floor, and she leaped the rest of the way in. The force of her jump caused her to collide against something solid and very warm.
She gasped again when strong hands gripped her waist, lifting her like she weighed nothing. In one swift move, she was flipped onto the inside wall of the bed.
“I sleep on the outside,” he said roughly.
Oh. Okay, then.
The bed dipped and let up as he got out. She listened to the sound of Rush putting another log on the fire and the jingle of Cujo’s tags as he followed his master. Rush’s deep voice gave a command to the dog, and then with a heavy flop and a deep, doggy sigh, the dog settled next to the bed.
The bed creaked, and she held herself stiffly until he settled behind her again. They weren’t touching, but she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, warm and minty, wafting over her shoulder, like the toothpaste she’d helped herself to before bed.
At home, she’d always slept closest to the door—for safety, Tucker had said.
Because she was a lighter sleeper than he was and would hear anything before he did.
The thought had never sat well with her, but when she’d suggested they get a dog for extra security, Tucker had just laughed.
“You sleep so lightly, Lils. You’d hear an intruder before a dog even woke up,” he’d said, ruffling her hair without even looking away from the baseball game on TV. Asshole.
Lying stiffly, she tried to breathe as shallowly as possible and let the anger wash over her.
She closed her eyes and visualized a soft, cleansing light enveloping her as she controlled her breathing.
She imagined the cabin steeped in the golden light, curling into the dark corners, and felt better.
The cabin had Rush’s energy. Steady. Protective.
She closed her eyes and murmured sleepily, “Cujo hates me.”
Silence. Then, a slight cough that sounded suspiciously like it was masking laughter. “Riggs?”
“Yeah,” she said. “He hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you. He just responds to authority.”
Lily stiffened. Authority. Well, that explained a lot. The dog had taken one look at her and decided she was a pushover. Just like—ugh. Don’t go there.
“So what?” she muttered. “He just instinctively knows I’m not worth listening to?”
Rush shifted behind her, and the mattress dipped, pulling her toward the center. They weren’t touching, but they were close enough that the heat of his body reached her. She had to hold herself rigid to resist wrapping herself around all that delicious warmth.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“Didn’t have to,” he said dryly. “You just did.”
She scowled at the wall, pulling the blanket higher around her shoulders. Of course he had her pegged. Not even a day and even the dog had figured it out. She was too soft. Too nice. Too easy to walk all over. “Great. So now I have to earn a dog’s respect?”
“He’d probably settle for a firm command and not acting like you’re scared of him.”
Lily bristled. “I’m not scared of him.” Much.
Rush didn’t respond, but the silence was loud.
She turned her head slightly, just enough to make out the strong slope of his nose and the shadows of his closed eyes in the dim light. “How long have you had him?”
“Riggs?” Rush paused as if counting in his head. “About four years now. He was my partner in the Marines. We did bomb detection together.”
“You adopted him when you left?”
She felt the slight rise of his shoulder in a shrug. “We finished our tours around the same time. After everything we’d been through, leaving him behind wasn’t an option.”
Lily absorbed that quietly. So the broody sheriff had a soft spot. Interesting. “He seems pretty happy being retired with you.”
“He’s mostly happy he gets to sleep in.”
On cue, Riggs let out a loud, sleepy sigh from the floor as if in agreement. Lily lay there, warmth gradually returning as she listened to the pop and crackle of the fire.
“You really think I’m a pushover?” she finally asked.
“Hell no,” he murmured, his voice a rough, lazy rumble. “You ran out of your own wedding. That takes some balls.”
“Then what exactly are you trying to say?”
He let out a huge yawn and settled into the bed more comfortably. “Just that whatever made you run away must have been pretty damn big. Because if I had to guess, you’re not someone who walks away easily.”
She swallowed hard. “Maybe you’re giving me too much credit.”
“I don’t think so,” he said quietly. “My guess is you hold on way past the point where most people would have walked.”
“That sounds dangerously close to calling me a pushover.”
She felt the bed shift when his massive shoulders shrugged. “I’d call it loyalty. You don’t quit until there’s no other choice.”
She chewed on that for a while as she stared at the wall. Loyalty. It sounded nicer than “pushover” but heavier too. “Well, maybe I stayed loyal to the wrong person.”
“Probably,” Rush said. “But there’s no shame in trying to make things work.”
“Even when everyone else thinks it’s not worth it?
” Her thoughts drifted to Tucker, to the years she’d spent convincing herself he was what she wanted—needed—despite the concerns of her sisters and her mom.
Watching Annette working herself to the bone, raising four girls on her own, had left her craving something more when she thought of her future.
Stability. A love story with no missing pieces.
Now, lying in the dark, she wondered if she’d spent all those years determined to build the perfect life, clinging to Tucker despite the whispers in her heart, because admitting she was wrong felt like she was giving up that dream.
“Especially then.” He shifted again, and the mattress dipped, drawing her closer to the heat of his body. “Hope isn’t weak. It’s brave as hell.”
She let that sink in, warmth and something else making her feel softer and more vulnerable. “So, Sheriff Callahan believes in hope. Who knew?”
“Don’t let it get around,” he drawled.
“Are you cold?” she whispered after a moment, inching just a tiny bit closer to his side of the bed.
“No.”
“Oh,” she replied, easing back slightly. “Me neither.”
He let out a loud snore that she was ninety-nine percent sure was fake. She rolled her eyes but got the hint and fell silent, staring at the ceiling and mulling over her life choices.
Minutes passed. Maybe longer. She lost track of how long she lay there, but gradually, inch by inch, she found herself moving closer to the furnace that was his body. His breathing slowed and deepened as she shifted again until she was almost touching him.
A faint shiver ran through her, and a steely arm shot out and wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against a solid, overwhelmingly warm, and undeniably male body.
Her eyes went wide at the feel of all that muscle and strength pressed so intimately against her body, sparking something deeper and warmer in her.
His chest rose and fell evenly against her back, his thighs solid and strong behind hers. She fit so nicely here, she thought, wiggling closer into the shape of his body.
“Lie still. Neither one of us can sleep with your teeth chattering like that,” he murmured near her ear. “We need to share body heat.”
She stiffened immediately, her body hyperaware of every single point where they touched.
When was the last time she’d slept with someone curled around her?
Years, probably. Tucker had always stayed on his side of the bed, and she wasn’t a cuddler either, but right now, wrapped in warmth, she had to admit how nice it felt, even if it was just to share heat.
She shifted back slightly, testing the space between them, and his arm tightened, pulling her even closer.
The heat of his body seeped into her muscles, relaxing her completely.
For weeks now, she’d barely slept at all, waking up every night with an uneasy feeling in her stomach.
She’d convinced herself it was nothing more than wedding jitters, but deep down, her intuition had been whispering that something was wrong. Something she had refused to see.
Now, pressed against Rush’s solid warmth, those anxious thoughts finally quieted. Her lids grew heavy as a slow, sweet warmth spread through her. Maybe she was a cuddler after all, she thought drowsily.
The question had been lingering at the edge of her thoughts from earlier. Before she could stop herself, it slipped out. “Are you married? Is there someone waiting for you at home?”
He didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched long enough that Lily’s pulse kicked up a notch, but having been on the receiving end of a betrayal, she needed to know she wasn’t doing that to someone else.
“No,” he finally said. “Go to sleep.”
Relief flooded her, and she relaxed fully against him. “I’m a very light sleeper,” she mumbled, already starting to feel herself drifting. “And I don’t need much room. You won’t even notice I’m here.”
Her breathing slowed, and that was the last thing she remembered.