CHAPTER FIVE
Zoe
I woke to the scent of coffee brewing and some other wonderful scent filling my nose. I opened my eyes a slit, the orange glow of the fire sending bursts of pain into my head.
I groaned.
It was ridiculous how much my head hurt. I’d had migraines as a teen, but this made them seem like a minor ache. Blinking to clear my vision, it stayed blurry instead.
I felt him approach before I saw him, his socked feet not making a sound on the wood floor. He sat on the ottoman in front of me and my entire world suddenly revolved around him.
“How are you feeling?”
Pushing up into a sitting position, I winced as the movement speared into me. “I’m not sure.”
His lips quirked up, but it couldn’t officially be called a smile. “I’d say you probably feel like you fell down a mountain.”
I probed the scratch under my eye. “Yeah, after a snowplow ran over me a couple of times.”
The lips quirked up a bit more, and the way the almost-smile crinkled the corner of his eyes was disarming. “What would you like to drink? I’ve got coffee, water, a variety of juices. Orange, apple, grape. Soft drinks. Sprite. Coke. Dr. Pepper. We’ll try food a little later after we see how your stomach handles the liquid.”
I blushed. “What? You don’t want me to throw up on your nice oriental rug? I was so graceful about it earlier.”
He laughed, and the rumble of the sound vibrated the air around us. “It’ll clean up if you do. I’m more worried about how all that heaving would shake your already shaken brain.”
My fingers moved to the cut on my head, only to find a thick layer of gauze there. I wasn’t sure when he’d done that. “I’m not sure there is much brain left. I think it all leaked out of this hole.”
The smile faded, his beautiful blue eyes growing serious. “You’re very lucky.”
Our eyes met. Locked. My stomach churned for a different reason. “I know. Thank you for being there. For saving me.”
Silence stretched between us, and so did something else that was unfamiliar. It was like the blizzard had changed the amount of gravity in the room, pressing us together. He broke the eye contact first and pushed himself into a standing position. “What do you want? Juice?”
“Yes. Apple if that’s okay.”
His jeans fit his ass like a glove, I noticed as he headed into the kitchen area, and I pulled my gaze away and took the opportunity to look around the cabin. It was at least three times the size of mine with floor-to-ceiling windows that would shine tomorrow’s light onto the open floor plan.
In addition to the oversized leather sofa I sat on, a couple chairs were clustered around the huge fireplace while other chairs sat in front of a wall of shelves filled with hundreds of books. Exposed beams soared overhead, the high ceiling making the room appear to be even larger than it was. Through the windows, I could see the wraparound deck with a sunroom off to one side.
The entire place exuded masculinity, but not in a beat-your-chest kind of way. It was warm and soothing, much like the man himself. The man who was now pouring my juice and something else… whiskey? He dropped a cinnamon stick in and gave it a quick stir.
“Here, I added a little something to help sooth your nerves,” he said as he placed the glass in my hands. I sniffed the concoction and he chuckled. “It’s called an Apple Jack, made with Jack Daniels.”
I looked warily down into the liquid. “An Apple Jack for the lumberjack?”
The smile broadened but still didn’t show his teeth. “Try it. If you don’t like it, I’ll pour you straight apple.”
Still wary, I lifted it to my lips and took a sip, grimacing as the alcohol burned its way down. He laughed again, a soft rumbling sound that curled my toes. Despite the burn, it wasn’t bad, and I took another sip. That one was better.
Even though I’d just woken up, I yawned. “Sorry. I’m not sure why I’m so tired.”
He leaned forward and pulled a piece of hair from my face. It was stuck to my skin like glue. “You’ll probably feel that way for a few days. How about we get you cleaned up and these wounds tended, then you can sleep through the night.”
I glanced around for a clock. “What time is it?”
“A little after eight.”
That shook me. I’d been asleep for a few hours. It only felt like a few minutes.
I took another sip but didn’t want to risk another. I could already feel the liquid swirling around in my stomach, and not in a good way. “I think I’m finished for now.”
He took the glass from my hand and set it on the table beside me. “Let’s get your wounds cleaned up.”
Scooting the ottoman closer to me, he moved until my knees were between his jean-clad thighs. I could smell him now. A mixture of wood and some masculine smelling bodywash, but there was something even more alluring hiding beneath the scent. Him.
I swallowed hard and his hands lifted to my head, his face so very near to mine now. As he began the process of unwrapping the bandage, my fingers itched to touch his beard. It was thick and looked so soft, and I yearned to know how it felt. How the full lips beneath it felt as they…
Stop it.
What was wrong with me? I surely did have a concussion to be thinking in such a way. He winced more than I did as the cotton stuck to the wound, and I felt a fresh stream of blood flow down my forehead. He pressed a bandage to the cut to staunch the flow. “Let’s go to the kitchen. Can you walk?”
It wasn’t graceful, but I managed to wobble over to the sink, his strong arm around me to keep me steady. With each step, my head pounded harder, and I was breathing heavy by the time he lifted me to sit on the counter. I was very aware that I wore nothing but his t-shirt, and apparently so was he because he strode back into the living area and returned with a blanket he draped over my bare legs.
“Lie down,” he instructed, his voice grittier and more strained than before. “I need to wash the blood away and it will be easier if I just do it in the sink.” Once I was flat, he told me he’d be right back. And he was, with towels and a first aid kit in his hands. A bottle of shampoo too.
He turned on the water, and once it was warm, he used the nozzle to wet my hair, and I tried not to wince when he got near the sore place. He used a washcloth to wipe the blood from my face. For such a big man, he was very gentle. Yet also strong. He demonstrated an incredible ability to know just how to use the right amount of pressure as he worked his manly smelling shampoo into my hair.
“Sorry I don’t have any girly products,” he said as he hovered over my face. “It’s either Blackwood or Dawn dishwashing detergent.”
I laughed, wincing at how the sound pounded through my brain. “You chose wisely, but if I’m ever caught in an oil spill, use the Dawn, please.”
He actually smiled this time. A true smile, teeth and all, and I was warmed by the little gap between the front two. I wasn’t sure why, but that small flaw made him even more attractive. It was like a little boy still lived within the big, strong man.
“Do you anticipate ever needing to be rescued from an oil spill?”
“No, but I never anticipated needing to be rescued from a blizzard either.”
His smile faded. “Yeah. That was close. The storm hit even sooner than expected.”
I gazed up at him, then was forced to close my eyes as water sprayed into my face as he rinsed my hair. “How did you find me?”
I felt him stiffen, and I blinked through the water to see his face. “You need stitches,” he said, turning off the faucet and probing the cut. “I don’t have supplies for that, but I’ve got superglue. It should work well enough.”
That surprised me. “Glue?”
He grinned, but the gesture seemed forced. “Yep. That’s pretty much what hospitals use, except they’d never admit to it. They couldn’t charge so much if they did.”
He wrapped a towel around my hair, squeezing the strands instead of rubbing, and I realized he’d had some practice doing this. “Are you a hairdresser when you aren’t being Paul Bunyan and a bartender?” I asked, my voice teasing.
But the corners of his mouth tightened, and he didn’t answer. “Can you sit?” He wasn’t angry, but I felt him pulling away, putting a mental distance between us for some reason I didn’t understand.
My muscles were still wobbly, but I managed to do so with his help. My right side was beginning to burn, and I looked down at my arm. I hissed as I explored the cuts and scrapes there. “I think the branch won this battle,” I said as I felt the wound on my cheek.
His fingers replaced mine. “You’re very lucky the limb didn’t drive right through you, and it also stabilized the Jeep long enough for me to get down to you. We should give it a medal.”
“The Purple Bark?”
He laughed, the sound exploding from his chest. “You’re funny. Now, let’s see what else we have.”
Lifting the sleeve of the shirt to expose my arm and shoulder, I noticed him swallow hard, his lips tightening into a thin line.
“Are you cold?” He groaned and looked away from me the moment the words left his mouth.
I looked down at my breasts, and sure enough, my nipples were on high alert under the thin material. I felt my cheeks grow warm as I crossed my battered arms over them. “Um, sorry. Maybe a little.”
He cleared his throat, his eyes coming back to me, but this time they were staring at my forehead. “Then let’s do the first aid back over at the fire. I don’t want you to get chilled.”
Me-ow-ee-k.
What was that?
When it sounded again, I realized it was from a cat. No, a kitten maybe. Thinking about animals made me realize that his beautiful dog wasn’t around. When the squeaky sound became even more urgent in pitch and length, claws clicked on the floor and Maggie appeared around the corner. Her anxious eyes were fixed on her human.
“What’s wrong, girl?” Maggie whined when the meow sounded again. “Is your new friend needing something?”
The dog barked, then whirled around and disappeared. As I turned my head to see where she was going, my vision lurched and I grew dizzy. Reaching for something stable, my hands landed on him. I tried to pull them away, but my weight kept heading in his direction as the kitchen whirled around me. Before I could stop myself, my nose was in his neck.
Time stopped as the soft beard cushioned my face and his arms closed around me. His breath was warm in my hair as he said, “Whoa now. Let’s get you back on the couch.”
As if I were a child, he scooped me up into his strong arms and the blanket fell away to the floor. For the second time that day, I found myself nestled against his broad chest, but this time, I could feel his heart hammering into my side.
It beat to the same rhythm as mine.
I looked up at him, my arms snaking around his neck. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes, so piercingly blue, roved over my face before falling to my lips. For a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. And I wanted with a desperation I didn’t fully understand for him to do so.
Meow-eek.
Click. Click. Click.
Woof.
A breath shuddered out of him, and the moment was over as his face closed into a tight mask.
“Come on.”
In a few long strides, he deposited me back on the sofa. Retrieving the blanket, he covered my legs. “I better check on my other guest.”