Christmas on 4th Street (Fool's Gold #12.5)(45)

“Did you bring condoms?”

She opened her mouth then closed it. “No,” she said. She hadn’t even brought her purse.

“Me, either.”

So stopping made sense, even if it wasn’t what she wanted. Being in Gabriel’s arms had made her feel strong and powerful. She’d liked the way he touched her and how she’d responded. But...and there was always a but...she wasn’t sure she was ready to hand over her body when she knew the circumstances were temporary. One thing she’d learned while she was healing was that she didn’t want regrets. She’d assumed most of them would be about what she hadn’t done, but some could go the other way.

He lightly kissed her, then stood. “I’m going to go outside and see if I can get a cell signal. I want to tell Melissa what happened so she can close up the store and let the authorities know we’re staying out for the night.”

“There goes my reputation,” she said with a grin.

He didn’t smile back. “Are you worried about what people will think?”

“I meant it the other way,” she assured him. “I have wild friends. Knowing we spent the night together in a cabin will impress them.”

He stared at her intently. “Was that a joke?”

“Yikes, I must be doing it wrong if you have to ask.”

He surprised her by hauling her against him and hanging on tight. “You’re better.”

She could barely breathe. “Excuse me?”

“You were sad when we couldn’t find a tree, then freezing after the snow attack. You were barely talking. Defeated.” He drew back and looked at her. “I didn’t like it.”

His concern was kind of sweet. She touched his face. “You’re really weird, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve been told that before.” He stood. “I’m going to try to call Melissa. Then I’ll get firewood. You rest. That’s an order.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“In this situation, I’m your doctor and you will listen.”

“Ooh, tough-guy doctor. I’m trembling.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Something hot and hungry that made her very aware of her seminaked state.

If he took, she wouldn’t say no, but Gabriel had already proven he needed more than that. He needed her to be the one asking. To be sure.

“I’ll be back,” he said as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “Stay warm.”

She nodded and he left. When she was alone, she stood and found her legs were steady. She was cold but no longer chilled. Wrapping one of the blankets around her like a cloak, she explored the small cabin.

The furniture was worn, but looked clean. There were bookshelves with paperbacks ranging from spy thrillers to romances. A deck of cards sat on a stack of board games. On a shelf by the kitchen was a glass paperweight with a rose inside. A little Statue of Liberty sat on a windowsill.

The bathroom had running water, which was great. There was food and even a small portable radio. She checked for batteries and when she found them, turned it on. Sure enough, the local Fool’s Gold FM station came in. She grinned. Later, they could listen to music. Although she doubted Gabriel would find the oldies station very romantic. Not with his brother acting as DJ.

She crossed to the small window and tried to see through the falling snow. The tree hunt had been a good lesson for her. It was easy for her to fall back into her former competitive spirit, she thought. Determined to win, no matter what it took. That drive had propelled her through law school and later had given her the inner strength to defeat her illness. But it didn’t make her a restful person. She wanted to maintain her Zen self. Which meant that she probably should have taken one of the first trees she’d seen in town instead of making Gabriel go up into the mountains with her.

She saw movement outside and watched him walk to the woodpile. He brushed off snow, then lifted the tarp. She turned back to the interior of the cabin and crossed to the sofa. As for what was going to happen that night, she still hadn’t decided. She knew what her body wanted, but her heart and her head were different matters.

The front door burst open. Gabriel stood in the entrance, his head and shoulders covered with snow, his expression oddly agitated.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You’re not going to believe it. I can’t believe it.”

She got the feeling she didn’t have to panic, but still. “You’re not a very good storyteller. What is it?”

“A mother cat with kittens. By the woodpile.”

He continued talking, but she didn’t listen as she reached for her wet clothes.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “I can handle it.”

“You’ll need help. Sometimes cats are afraid of men.” She pointed to the door. “Go keep an eye on her. I’ll be right there.”

He hesitated, but then looked her over, nodded and went back out into the storm.

She pulled on her jeans and shrugged into her T-shirt. The sweater was too wet to be any good. She struggled with her damp socks, pulled on her boots and jacket, then stepped out into the frigid afternoon.

Gabriel was pacing by the woodpile. As she approached, he faced her and shook his head. “The babies are really small. Their eyes are barely open. She’s cold and starving. We’ve got to get her inside.”