Page 30 of Snowed In with Benefits

It’s shockingly cold. So cold that I can’t breathe. So cold that all I can feel is pain and I can’t force my body to move toward the shore. I’m going to die in here if I don’t move. Move, damn it. Move!

A strong arm catches me around my waist and drags me up, mostly out of the water. I cling to Beau as he wades us both to shore. He hoists me up and over the fence, where I fall face-first into the snow. Shivering, I pull myself together and stand up. By the time I’ve found my feet, Beau is already over the fence, dripping wet.

I’m colder than I’ve ever been. I’m shivering so hard my knees buckle and I go down again. Beau shakes the water out of his hair and looks down at me.

“Shit.”

He scoops me up, and I’m too cold and weak to protest. I don’t know if I could even make it back to the cabin under my own power. It’s like the frigid creek sapped all of my strength in a single blow.

Still, this is the second time one of these guys has lifted me with no effort at all. I must be delirious, because now I’m wondering if Hunter is strong enough to do the same. I let my head fall against Beau’s shoulder, not because I want to or anything, but because the weight of my own head feels like too much right now.

I’m still violently shivering when we reach the cabin. Beau manages to get the back door open and get us both through it, and I’m expecting him to put me down, but he doesn’t. He seems to give zero thought to the puddles we’re leaving all over the kitchen floor as he tromps right through it, then down the hall to the bathroom.

The bathroom?

He finally sets me down on the closed toilet. I open my mouth to ask him what the heck we’re doing in here, but the words don’t leave my mouth before he starts shedding his clothes. First his coat, then his shirt, then his undershirt. Holy shit, he has a lot of tattoos. When he reaches for his belt, I finally manage to get my words out.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting in. You should too.” He points to the bathtub, then kicks off his boots. He leaves his jeans on while reaching over to plug the drain and turn on the faucet. I watch him, my heart thudding hard against my sternum. The tub is one of those old ones, big and deep, but still…

“There’s only one bathtub.”

“And?”

“And…” I’m flustered, too cold to think, and overwhelmed by the sheer amount of muscle that’s standing in front of me. He’s got his belt off now, his jeans unzipped and unbuttoned, and he’s struggling to get the shrunken denim away from his wet skin. “There’s only one bathtub,” I say again, in a near-whisper this time.

“Look, if you want to get hypothermia, be my guest,” he says impatiently. “Don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

My fingers and toes are completely numb. That can’t be a good sign. I’m still shivering, so cold that I can barely remember what it’s like to be warm. I try to swallow, but I’m shivering too hard to even do that. Survival can’t always be proper, I guess.

I fumble with my own clothes. My shaking, numb hands aren’t helping. He’s still fighting with his jeans, or I might ask him for help. Yeah, right. Hey, tattooed guy I barely know, help me undress, would you? Not on your life.

The fact that I’m about to get in the bathtub with him is entirely irrelevant.

I finally manage to slip out of my coat without bothering to unzip it all the way. My boots, pants, and shirt come off more easily, making wet sounds as they hit the floor. It’s my socks and bra that are giving me trouble. A bra alone couldn’t give me hypothermia, could it?

He finally has his jeans off. He reaches for the waistband of his tight boxer briefs, then gives me an unreadable look. I try to ignore his muscles and bulge while my numb fingers slip and slide over the double layer of socks I’m working to free myself from.

He sighs. Next thing I know, he’s slipped two big fingers under the elastic of my socks and is pulling them free from my foot. He frowns at the color of my toes. Frankly, I’m not real pleased about it, either. He swiftly takes off my other pair of socks, then turns away and gets in the tub with his boxers still on.

I stand in my bra and panties, pulse racing so fast that I feel like the rush of blood alone should be warming me up—except it clearly isn’t. I’m shivering harder and harder, and after hesitating for a second, I unhook my bra quickly before crossing one arm over my chest. I don’t know if nipples can get frostbite the same as other extremities, but I’m not willing to risk it.

My locket is cold against my skin as I gaze down at Beau in the bathtub, taking in the tiny bit of space left for me. I hesitate, and it must be clear in my expression that I’m wavering about whether this will be worth it, because he gives me a flat look.

Fine. Before he can give me a list of all the body parts I’m going to lose if I don’t get in the damn bathtub, I climb in. The warm water feels searing on my numb toes and ankles.

I sit down slowly, trying very hard not to touch him. If I curl up right between his feet, my knees and most of my body are still out of the water, and the cool air on my skin makes me shiver violently. I scoot back just a touch, letting my knees fall to either side just a little, jerking back when the hair of his leg brushes my thigh.

“For fuck’s sake. Here.” Beau reaches out and grabs me, pulling me against his chest. His legs are stretched out on either side of me as his arms wrap around me, cradling me against his warmth.

13

JOSIE

My breath stops. My heart races. The searing feeling in my feet is starting to dissipate, but I’m barely conscious of it anymore. My entire awareness is concentrated on the sinewy muscles all around me, the long tattooed arms cradling me against the powerful, naked chest.

So naked.