“I call first dibs,” she said.
“It’s all yours.”
He went ahead of her to unlock the door, then swung it open and stepped aside for her to enter first. She halted in the doorway.
“Hello. Right behind you here.”
“Sorry.”
She moved out of the way, and he carried the bags inside. One glance was all it took to understand her hesitation on the threshold. The small cabin consisted of exactly two rooms. One was clearly the bathroom, the other was a combination kitchen, living area and bedroom…with one bed.
One large bed.
Despite her injury and the past twelve hours, his mind went right back to that kiss in the barn. “I didn’t realize…I’ll take the couch.”
“It’s not a big deal, Joel.”
She shut the door behind him and took her bag from his hand. The brush of her fingers against his fueled the simmering burn in his veins. After she’d crossed the room and shut the door to the bathroom, he blew out a breath. It was going to be a long night.
The only way to distract his libido once the water turned on was to head back to the truck to haul in his box of investigation files and the bag of groceries he’d picked up after throwing out half of what he’d bought the night before. The food only took a minute to put away, and then he spread the files out on the table, laptop off to the side.
Instead of reading the words in front of him, he listened for when the water shut off. Then he counted the minutes until the door opened, emitting a light cloud of steam that quickly dissipated in the cooler room as she stepped out.
“All yours. And good God, did that feel good.”
Good God, she was going to drive him crazy. Her wet hair fell over her shoulders and down her back. She wore a short pair of thin, black pajama pants with a matching cotton tank top—and no bra. Comfortable and casual, and sexy as hell.
Not even the bruise on her head could douse the blaze sweeping through him. After one lingering glance, he bit back a groan and forced his attention back to the papers on the table.
She flipped back the comforter on one side of the bed and sat on the edge to comb through her curls. He flipped to the next file and read the first page. Then read it again.
Nope, not working.
He shut the file, shoved to his feet, and scooped up his own bag. “I won’t be long.”
Once in the bathroom, he dropped his stuff and leaned back against the wood to draw in a deep, cleansing breath. Her apple-scented shampoo inundated his senses and had him hard in seconds.
Long night was a frickin’ understatement—especially considering it wasn’t even four p.m. yet.
Mindful of the couple minor burns a nurse had treated on his back, he scrubbed the smoke smell from his skin and hair, then finished off his shower with a few minutes under a stream of bracing cold water. It helped enough that he was able to pull on a pair of clean briefs and zip his jeans without it being too uncomfortable. When he stepped barefoot out into the main room, he saw Brittany had fallen asleep.
Good. She needed it. He walked over and started to pull the comforter up. The bruise on her shoulder triggered the memory of her lying motionless under the mustang. For a heart-stopping moment, terror seized him all over again. She could have easily been killed.
He shuddered. The thought of her no longer being in his life was unthinkable. As he stared at her damp, blond curls spread out on the pillow, a sudden clarity made his chest tighten even as his heart pounded loud enough to drown out the world around him.
He loved her.
The realization surprised him, yet it didn’t. Brought him peace and terrified him at the same time. Hope clashed with uncertainty.
“Joel?”
Her soft voice jerked his unfocused gaze up to see she’d half-rolled toward him. “Right here.”
“There’s plenty of room if you want to lie down.”
He cleared his throat, hoping it’d dislodge the lump restricting his air. “Thanks, but I’m going to get some work done.”
Her lashes fluttered before resting against her cheeks once more. “’Kay.”