Under the Northern Lights(50)
Concern darkened his expression as he spotted me huddled on the ground, clutching my rifle to my chest. “What happened?” he asked. “Are you okay?”
Nodding, I struggled to my feet. Every inch of me still felt doughy, insubstantial, like I was a doll and not a real person. “Yes, I’m fine. I came back to the cabin, and there was a . . . a wolf. I guess I didn’t secure the latch well enough. I’m so sorry, Michael. It wrecked . . . everything.”
Michael’s eyes shifted to take in the chaos surrounding us. When his gaze returned to me, I expected to see anger, but all I saw was relief. “This is just stuff, Mallory. I’m just glad you’re okay. You’re the one thing I can’t replace,” he said. Then his arms slid around me, and he was holding me tight to him.
His words warmed me as much as his embrace, and slowly, I felt the terror subsiding. I was tired, though, tired of having survival so close to the surface, tired of facing my mortality at every corner. Like he could sense my bone-chilling exhaustion, Michael ran his hand up and down my back, murmuring encouragement. “It’s okay. You’re okay . . . we’re okay.”
I could feel the tears welling, could feel the sadness and homesickness seeping in, but I fought it off as best I could. “We should . . . clean this up.” My voice felt tight, like any moment it might snap.
Pulling back, Michael shook his head. “I’ve got this, Mallory.” Taking the gun from my stiff fingers, he softly said, “I’ll make you a bath, and while you’re relaxing, I’ll clean this up.”
I skewed my lips at him. “How is that fair? I’m the reason the wolf got inside. I should clean this up.” Then I should replace everything I’d allowed to get destroyed. Somehow.
Michael smiled at me. “It’s fair because you’re the one who is upset. You’re the one who faced down a wolf. I’m fine, and I’m more than happy to relinquish my bath night for you, if it will ease your mind.” Rubbing my arms, he added, “And besides, this way I’ll be able to keep my beard another day.” He stroked the long strands while he gave me my favorite uninhibited smile. I couldn’t help but return his infectious grin.
“Fine, but don’t get too attached to that thing. You, me, and that beard have a date with a pair of scissors soon.” Saying the word date made me want to cringe, but Michael didn’t react to my choice of words. He just kept smiling at me like all was right in the world, even though everything was in some state of disrepair, if not total destruction.
Before we separated, Michael bent down and gave me a soft kiss on the lips. It sent a rush through me, the good kind, that made facing down a vicious animal almost seem worth it. Almost. I didn’t want him to walk away, didn’t want to give up the comfort of our connection, but Michael was on a mission, and it was clear nothing was going to stop him until he had me soaking away my worries in a tub.
While he warmed pot after pot of water, I tried to help clean up the cabin. He shooed me away each time with a gentle slap on my arm. “Stop it, or I might have to spank you,” he told me.
My face heated at his words, and Michael instantly looked away. “I mean . . . never mind,” he said, clearly embarrassed. It made an ooey-gooey sort of feeling go through me whenever he was embarrassed by his words. He could be fierce and protective one minute, then wholesome and adorable the next. It was an intriguing combination, one I had to admit that I really, really liked. It made the thought of leaving him all the harder. If only he rubbed me the wrong way . . . instead of all the right ways.
Once the tub was full of steaming water, Michael gave me a triumphant smile. “Your bath, milady.”
Rolling my eyes, I giggled at his sweet, outdated phrase. “Thank you, sir.”
He was intently staring at me, his eyes locked on mine, and the longer our gazes held, the more I felt a wondrous warmth blossoming inside me. It was difficult to keep my distance, difficult not to kiss him, but I had a feeling if I did, I wouldn’t want to stop. Forcing myself to look away, I murmured, “I should change before the water gets cold.”
I hoped he got the hint on his own, and I wouldn’t have to ask him to leave; after everything that had happened today, I didn’t think I could utter the words. Michael cleared his throat before speaking. “Right, I’ll just . . . step outside.”
He turned to leave, and I grabbed his arm. “You don’t have to stay . . . out there. There’s a lot to do in here, and we haven’t even had dinner yet. You can come back . . . if you want to get started on that stuff.”
I felt dumber with every word leaving my mouth, but I hated the thought of him killing time outside when there was so much to do—stuff he wouldn’t let me help him with. And besides, if I was going to cut his hair in the tub, then we were going to have to get used to this. Might as well start today.
Michael looked me over, and I could see the confliction in his eyes. He wanted to stay, but he didn’t want things between us to progress any further than they had. He wanted to stay the course. I did too. For now. After another moment’s consideration, he finally nodded. “Okay, Mallory. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Another giddy rush swept over me as he stepped out the door. He’d be back. And I’d be naked. And just the thought of him being in the same room with me when I was that exposed had my body tingling with anxious energy.