He chaffed his hands over the cold flesh of June’s arms. Her skin was a mass of goosebumps and she was shivering so hard, her teeth knocked together in a deafening clash. She had on a black tank top and it was plastered against her skin, soaked as well. He couldn’t strip her out of it in public, unfortunately, so he settled for her arms.
When he’d rubbed them a few times to try and bring the warmth back into them, which created a firestorm in his own gut, he momentarily stopped for a minute to strip off his leather jacket. His t-shirt was fairly dry underneath, so he gripped June’s shoulders and pressed her up against him. He wrapped her long, blonde hair up in his fist and piled it above her head where it wouldn’t drip down her back any longer.
He brought his hands back to her petite shoulders and began to massage them in an effort to bring some warmth back to her skin. She shivered as his hand brushed the nape of her neck. Her skin was ice, but there was a fire burning just below. He wanted to spin her around to see if that fire reached her eyes, but he settled instead for the way she leaned into his touch as he worked the knots out of her muscles. She was practically purring when Sally and two of her staff members swept back into the room carrying piles of clothing. The young women working with her ushered Jaz and Mandy back to the showers.
“We only have two staff showers in this building. You’re welcome to use my personal bathroom if you like.” Her eyes swept over them, the way he kept a hand protectively on June’s shoulder and the way she leaned into him, searching for warmth.
“Okay,” June agreed readily. Far too readily. She must really be cold. She turned slowly, and Brock was surprised and dismayed, to see that her lips had a blue outline. He grasped her hand and nearly cursed at how cold her fingers were. Her nails were purple.
Brock curled his hands over hers and she didn’t pull away. Sally nodded and led the way through the barn, out the back door, back into the rain, which was tapering off, to a large house. It wasn’t fancy. It was a ranch style house with a porch on the front. All very western looking, lined in greyed cedar boards with a red metal roof.
The inside décor matched the exterior. Barbed wire stars, western paintings, colorful blankets, and rustic plank flooring gave it an authentic western feel.
Sally led them to a large bathroom on the main floor. She flipped on the light, revealing a huge claw foot bathtub and an even larger shower. The floor was done in stone and the showerhead stood out from the wall. The drain was in the middle of the floor.
“I’ll bring you fresh clothes and set them outside the door.” She indicated the towels on the rack. “Feel free to use those.”
“Thanks,” June said woodenly. She shivered violently and looked longingly at the shower.
Before she could come to her senses, Brock shut the door. The click of the lock sliding in place brought June’s head around. Her eyes widened, as though she’d just realized where she actually was.
“What are you- what- what are you doing? I’m having a shower. I’m freezing. You need to wait outside.”
“Oh really? Who says you get to go first?”
Her brow quirked up, challenging him. Her shoulders moved back in what he realized was a stubborn, defiant position. He nearly grinned as life flooded back into her. It was good to know the rain hadn’t quite washed away her spirits.
“No! You do not get to go first. The second you planned this whole torturous trip, you gave up the right to be first in there. You’re going to wait outside like the gentleman you certainly aren’t, given that you thought you could just walk in here with me and I wouldn’t protest. I’m going to take so long in here, all the hot water will be long, long used up by the time I’m-”
That was as far as she got before Brock gripped her shoulders and slammed her up against the hard wall of his chest. She ripped her head up, anger blazing in her eyes. Her lips parted, ready to hurl harsh words his way, no doubt. He took the opportunity to crush his mouth to hers.
He just intended on kissing her, on riling her up, on stirring the pot.
One taste of her and he realized he wasn’t letting her go. Not then. Not ever.
Things might not have gone according to plan, but he wasn’t going to let the rain spoil it. There was no way he was losing that bet.
CHAPTER 11
June
He was kissing her.