Page 15 of Big Package

Every coherent thought I had scattered. “Cole.”

His fingers tightened slightly against my side. Then his expression changed.

The moment passed. He stepped back and let his hand fall. “Careful, the floor’s slippery.”

His voice had gone rough.

I looked down.

There was a wet patch near my boots where ice had melted off the ATV tires.

Right. The floor. Obviously. “That’s why you grabbed me.”

“Yeah.”

I looked at him. He looked back. Neither of us believed him.

“Good catch,” I said.

His jaw shifted. Then he opened the door leading back into the house.

I followed him into the kitchen, where everything looked exactly the same as it had before the power went out. Our bowls sat on the table. My phone was where I’d left it. The wood stove crackled in the corner.

Nothing had changed. Except now I knew what his hand felt like at my waist. More importantly, I knew what his face looked like when he forgot to hide what he was thinking.

I sat down and reached for my spoon, even though my appetite had become considerably less important. Cole took his seat across from me. Neither of us spoke for several seconds.

That might have been a personal record for me.

I took a bite of chili and discovered it had gone lukewarm.

“So,” I said, because silence had never been one of my strengths, “how many bedrooms do you have?”

Cole stopped with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “One.”

I waited.

He finished the bite.

“That’s it?”

“One bedroom.”

I glanced toward the hallway and then at the leather couch in the living room. It looked perfect for watching television and less appealing as an eight-hour sleeping arrangement.

Cole followed my gaze. “I’ll take the couch.”

“No.”

His eyebrows pulled together.

“You’re not sleeping on your own couch because I showed up uninvited.”

“It’s fine.”

“I can sleep there.”

“No.”