Chapter 13
Jack
Iam the biggest ass to walk these hills. Wait, I’m the only ass to walk these hills; they’re mine.
After warming up and refreshing her hot beverage, Holly retreats outside to her comet, and she kindly but firmly asks me to stay here. So I do, which makes me a dumbass; I need to keep her safe.
There’s no way I can go to sleep with her out in the near-zero temperatures. So, I make cinnamon rolls to keep awake and pass the time.
“Mm, smells good,” she says, teeth chattering, when she comes inside. She breaks me out of my reveries, staring into the fire as the rolls rest before baking. Wiping my hand down my face, I stand and check my watch—four in the morning.
Hat and mittens off, thrown to the floor, she’s struggling to wrap her fingers around the buttons of her coat.
“Do you want help?” I ask, wanting desperately to rescue her from her snow gear.
She shakes her head no, shoulders hunched, as she attempts to unbutton the coat.
“Buttons seem inefficient.” At that, she nods, releasing a frustrated growl that threatens to knock my heart out of my chest.
“Here,” I step into her space, place my warm hands over hers; they are ice cold and shaking.
“In an effort to be a gentleman, I let you stay outside too long. I’m sorry.
” And with that small apology, I undo all the fasteners of her coat, pull it off of her and hang it up.
She’s got her snow bib unzipped, but is struggling to get out of it with her boots on.
Kneeling before her, I unlace her boots and pull them off, her hands resting on my shoulders for support.
Our eyes meet as I pull down her snow bib over her luscious hips and help her feet out. I rub my hands up her thighs—one for generating heat, two because I can’t not touch her. Her sweatpants are soft and chilled. She’s unsteady on her feet as she steps away from me.
Like a lynx with nothing to lose, I jump up and scoop her into my arms. Her protest is weak, either from being too cold or not wanting to wake the kids up, I’m not sure. Regardless, I ignore the shaking of her head no. “Shhh, darlin’, I got you.” And with that declaration, I take her to bed.
Don’t get the wrong idea.
I get her tucked into bed, grab another quilt to pile on top of her, then reach under to grab one foot.
Sock removed, I rub her foot, trying to get more blood flow to it.
“That feels good,” she whispers; I can hear the sleepiness in her voice.
Feet switched, I get them good and warmed up before tucking them back under the covers.
Without thinking, I lean over to kiss her forehead. Her breathing is already deep and even. Pausing for just a second, I inhale the sweet scent of her hair, the softness of her skin. It takes all my willpower to stand tall and walk away from her.
Her voice stops me in my tracks. “Don’t leave me.” It’s possible I could chalk it up to sleep-talking, but she props herself up on her elbows and pats the space beside her.
Who am I to deny her what she wants?
Clothes shed, I crawl into bed behind her, spooning her, arm wrapped protectively around her middle. “This okay?”
“Perfect.” She tucks her ice-cube toes into the space between my calf and the mattress, presses her back and peachy ass into my front, and sighs contentedly.
We’re still. Pretty sure she’s really asleep. But there’s no sleeping for me. I’m rock hard and aching to claim her for myself.