Close To Danger (Westen #4)(22)

Standing at the granite-topped island in the kitchen, Chloe unloaded the bags of supplies they’d hauled inside. Across the room Wes worked on building a fire in the fireplace. It hadn’t surprised her that he already had logs of firewood both in the fireplace ready to be lit and a basket of the logs on the hearth when they entered the cabin. She had a feeling he rarely was caught unprepared.

The man had an efficient smoothness to his movements. Despite the black holster that stretched from one shoulder to the other where a gun was cradled just beneath his left arm, she could see the way his shirt stretched over his muscles, accentuating the power in his upper body. And then there was the way his jeans stretched across his thighs and ass as he squatted.

“You getting warmer?” he asked, standing to rub his hands in front of the fire.

Oh yeah. She wasn’t sure if it was the heat from the fire or him, but she was certainly warm.

“Chloe?”

She blinked, finding him staring at her with concern in his eyes. “Oh, yes. Definitely warmer.”

“If you’ve got the cold stuff in the fridge, the rest can wait until tomorrow. What you need is some sleep,” he said, heading into the small room on the opposite side of the cabin.

The bedroom. The only bedroom.

The place she’d spent a night in two weeks ago, with him. The night about which she remembered nothing. Nothing except waking up in her underwear in his very rumpled bed.

Would he expect them to pick up where they’d left off? Would he expect her to remember that night? Should she tell him she didn’t remember anything they may or may not have done?

Her body flushed with heat that had nothing to do with the fire. Nervously, she turned to the back counter and began organizing the boxes of little pods of coffee Wes bought for the coffee maker. Funny, he’d bought eight different flavors, none of them decaffeinated.

“I wasn’t sure which kind you’d like,” he said from right behind her, causing her to jump back and into him. He caught her by the elbows. “I’ve got you.”

“Don’t do that,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to see him staring down into her eyes, a different kind of fire in them.

“Catch you or scare you?” His voice was low and husky.

“Both,” she whispered, then licked her lips.

The air around her thickened. She struggled to take a deep breath as his hand slid up her arms to her hands. He laced his fingers with her, pulling her up against his body and wrapping both their arms around her.

“You’re safe, here Chloe. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered, his lips millimeters from hers. Then he lowered his mouth, capturing her lips. The pressure of his lips on hers was gentle, reassuring. He pulled back, their lips clinging for a second at the end. “We’ve had a long, stressful day. I think it’s time to get some sleep.”

He released his hold on her and reached the light switch on the wall to click off the lights in the main cabin. Stepping back, he motioned her towards the lit bedroom. Her body and brain a jangled mess of nerves, she walked, straight-backed, ahead of him.

Could she do this? Could she just climb into bed with a man she hardly knew? Consciously? Because she obviously could do it so drunk she had black out sex with the man. But if she went through with it this time, it would be because she wanted him, wanted to make love to him.

At the door, he stopped her, with a hand on her shoulder.

“What?” she asked, trying not to jump out of her skin at his touch.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “After you change, open the door before you get in bed. That way the fire can warm that room, too. Otherwise you’re going to get very cold in there tonight.”

Blinking, she peeked into the bedroom where he’d folded down one side of the bed and laid out a flannel shirt. Surprised, she swiveled her gaze back to him.

“You’re going to need something to sleep in. I’d advise keeping socks on, too,” he said stepping away.

“Where…?” She let the question drift off.

“I’m taking the couch tonight.” Sitting on the couch he took off his boots and then took off his gun holster, laying it on the end table. He stood and reached for the button of his jeans, pausing to stare at her. “Don’t stand there tempting me, Chloe.”

She practically jumped into the bedroom, shut the door behind her and leaned her back against it, sucking in air and willing her heart rate to slow. Her body relaxed and she quickly felt the change in the temperature inside the room. He was right. She’d have to sleep with the door open. Of course that was assuming she’d sleep at all tonight.

Shivering, she stripped out of her work clothes and snatched up the wool flannel shirt he’d left on the bed. It was at least two sizes too big for her in width, but the tails of the shirt only grazed inches above her knees. Chuckling, she was glad she was tall. Bobby would’ve had this thing hitting her mid-calf. She pulled the white scrunch-style socks out of the Walmart bag and shoved her feet into one pair, sighing at the sudden warmth on her feet. A quick search of Wes’s closet and she found a free hanger to hang up her wool skirt and sweater she’d worn to work.

Ready for bed, she opened the door, the only light in the other room from the embers in the now-banked fire. She could see Wes’s silhouette stretched out on the couch beneath a quilt. Shivering again, she hustled into the bed and burrowed beneath the sheets and layers of quilts.