CHAPTER FIVE

Madison

My eyes popped open, and I found myself staring up at a relatively low log ceiling. I blinked a few times, looked to my left and saw I was in a room inside what had to be a log cabin. I looked down at my body and discovered a big, heavy quilt on top of me. Then, everything came flooding back. I was in Chase Nichols' cabin. I had been in a car accident, and he had brought me here to heal.

I took a deep breath, testing my ability to breathe without pain and was pleasantly relieved to feel it wasn't as bad as it’d been when I woke up before. I looked to my right to see out the window, but a heavy curtain blocked it. I didn't know if it was day or night or what day it was.

I took stock of my injuries starting from my head and working my way down to my toes, cataloging the parts that were still sore. The soreness was the least of my worries. The sex dream I’d had at some point had left me very horny. In my dream, I had been able to reach an orgasm numerous times. I could tell by the way my body felt primed and ready, I hadn't actually climaxed and was in desperate need. I felt tingly and super sensitive. Even the sheet rubbing against my bare legs was irritating me in the best way.

I looked around the cozy room and considered using my finger to get myself off, but I didn’t want Chase to walk in on that scene. Dreaming about the man and getting this turned on was bad enough.

“Hey,” the man who had been the star of my dream said in a soft tone as he walked into the doorway. “I was just coming to check on you.”

“Hi,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Looking at him as he was now, live and in the flesh and remembering the man who had fucked me senseless in my dreams was a little disconcerting.

When I first met him, I had ignored his rugged good looks. Clearly, my subconscious had not.

“You look a lot better. Are you feeling any better?” he asked, coming to sit next to me on the bed, his hand going to my forehead. “You are a little flushed though. Are you too warm?”

I could feel my embarrassment growing. If he only knew why I was flushed. It had nothing to do with me being too warm.

“I'm feeling better. What time is it?”

“Almost lunch.”

“What day is it?”

He smiled. “Monday.”

I quickly calculated the days. “I've been in bed since Saturday?”

He nodded. “Your body needed the rest.”

“I guess so. I'm feeling a little queasy. I think I need to use the bathroom,” I said, feeling extremely nauseous.

“Oh, yeah, let me help you,” he said jumping off the bed.

I managed to get to a sitting position and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “I'll try to walk.”

“I'll be right here,” he said, putting one of his big hands on my elbow and the other at the small of my back.

My legs felt like wet noodles. With a great deal of effort and a lot of support from him, I made it into the bathroom. I managed to use the toilet and even splash some water on my face before the exhaustion set in.

“Chase,” I said in a weak voice.

The door swung open, and he was right there to catch me. He carried me back to bed without saying a word.

“I'll get you some more soup. You need to eat to build up your strength.”

I nodded, knowing he was right but not sure my stomach was going to tolerate food.

He left, and I sank into the pillows he’d propped up behind me. I felt as weak as a newborn babe.

“Here,” he said, sitting next to me on the bed. “You need to eat some of the noodles this time. The broth isn’t going to get you very far for long.”

“Okay.”

I took the spoon and sipped some of the broth before slurping a noodle into my mouth. I knew it wasn't exactly ladylike, but the man had already seen me at my worst.

He dabbed at my chin with a napkin. I wanted to cry at how gentle and caring he was. Somewhere in the past couple of days, his gruff demeanor had softened a little toward me. He probably just felt sorry for me, but at least he wasn’t still acting like I was annoying the shit out of him with my mere presence.

I finished the soup, and he left with the empty bowl. When he came back, he was carrying a glass of water and a cup of what appeared to be steaming tea.

“How are you feeling? Any better?”

I nodded. “Actually, yes, a little. I still feel like I was hit by a truck, but at least the room isn't spinning. I can’t believe I’ve slept for so long.”

He shrugged. “You needed it.”

“I still don't remember the crash. I mean, I remember driving, and all I could see was white. I had the wipers going at full speed, but it was impossible to see anything. I think I must have run off the road. I don't remember sliding, but I guess it's possible,” I said, more to myself than to him.

I wasn't used to not being in control. Not remembering made me feel helpless. Relying on a complete stranger to take care of me made me uncomfortable, but I had no other options.

“Is it still snowing?” I asked.

“No, it stopped. Unfortunately, we got dumped on pretty good. The wind made it a mess out there. There are six-foot snow drifts. I can't even get to the woodshed. Thankfully, I stacked a lot of wood on the porch,” he explained.

“What does that mean?” I asked, a little alarmed. Were we stuck here until spring?

He laughed and sat down in the chair in the corner of the room. “It means we sit here for a bit until it melts. I do have a snowmobile, but it isn't running. I'll try and get it fixed today or tomorrow.”

“Oh. Good. So, there is a way out?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are the accommodations not up to your standards?”

I had to giggle. “Sorry, no offense. I’m not used to being so cut off from the world. When I came up here, that was the idea, but actually being in the situation is a little different. I guess I thought it would be peaceful and cathartic.”

“It is. I have enough food, I have heat, and I have a roof over my head. I was ready to get stuck. I knew the storm was coming,” he explained as if it were no big deal.

I groaned. “I should have known better. Really. I guess it would be like you coming to Florida with a hurricane bearing down on us. I know what to do there.”

He nodded. “I suppose it's the same thing. You only ever lived in Florida?”

I rolled my eyes. “Technically, yes, but my parents are free spirits. We traveled a lot, and we spent a lot of time around here when I was younger. What about you? Have you lived here your whole life?”

His eyes darted away from mine. He shrugged. “Yep, pretty much. Are your parents still in Florida?”

I smiled. “Probably.”

“Probably?”

“They bought an RV and have been on the road. They go where the wind takes them, at least that's what they say. You? Your family here?”

He looked at me, and I could see profound sadness in his eyes. I knew immediately he didn't have a happy story. Maybe that’s why he was prone to be sort of a jackass.

“I have an aunt, my mom's sister, and her son who live in town. My mom passed away two years ago. My dad died shortly after I was born.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling like I had just ripped a scab from his wounds. “Sorry to hear that.”

He shrugged. “It's life. So, what do you do?”

“I'm an artist, a starving artist most days, but things have been looking up recently.”

His intent gaze made me a little uncomfortable. “So then why are you here? The mountains aren’t exactly known for their fancy art galleries. Usually, the only people up here are running away from something.”

I debated how much to tell him. “I probably am. I've just been under a lot of stress lately and came up here to decompress and try to figure stuff out.”

“This is a good place to do that.”

“So, are you close with your aunt and cousin?”

He nodded. “I am. My cousin, Jayden, is a year younger than I am. We grew up together. And my aunt, Liza, is like a second mom to me. She and my mom are, I mean were, always close.”

Knowing he wasn't completely alone in the world made me feel a little better.

“Married?” I asked, instantly regretting it.

He made a face like the idea left a bad taste in his mouth. “Nope. Never been. You?”

I shook my head. “Nope.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“All right, I'm going to let you rest for a bit.”

“I'm fine, really,” I insisted.

“I'm the doctor. You're the patient. I need to see if I can get that snowmobile running, anyways. I'll check back in on you later. Maybe you'll feel up to eating dinner at the table.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Chase?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you, again. I know I was a real pain in the ass when I showed up here. Thank you for taking care of me despite my bitchiness.”

He shrugged. “It's fine, really. Rest.”

He left the door open, and I could hear his heavy boots plodding down the hall. I closed my eyes, and, immediately, the vision of him above me with my legs on his shoulders popped into my head. I squeezed them shut tighter, trying to block the image.

My efforts were futile. I felt the stirring of arousal and knew I would be dreaming about Chase once again. I prayed I wouldn't call out his name in my sleep. It was bad enough I had to keep a straight face when I looked at him after I had imagined him going down on me. Thank God, he couldn't see inside my head. He would probably send me packing, snow drifts or not.