Lovely. Not that she would have touched those blankets anyhow, but it would have been nice to have options.
The other side of the room had a mini cooler and a stack of bottles—more rum. She leaned over and flipped open the cooler. “Apples,” she said in disgust.
“Apples?”
She straightened. “Yeah. They do a game with apples apparently. If someone offers you an apple and you take a bite out of it, it means you want to sleep with them.” She shuddered in memory of the evening. “I was offered a lot of apples tonight.”
His laugh was a short, dry bark. “I’ll bet.”
For some reason, that made her feel a little better about the situation. That, and the fact that the rain wasn’t pounding on her head. She swung off her sodden cloak and moved to the edge of the tree house where the building was open to the night air, and wrung it out. Water streamed down. It had been a nice idea, but it was made of velour and the fabric didn’t really repel water. “Gonna be a cold night.”
Colt said nothing. Probably thinking how stupid she was for coming out here in a pair of dress shoes and a sparkling, skimpy mini dress. But heck, she hadn’t planned on being out here, either. It was just luck. Really bad luck.
She’d had a string of that lately.
Beth Ann turned and bumped into dry skin. Dry, warm skin. She gasped and stepped backward, toward the ledge.
His hand shot out and grabbed her. “Careful.”
“Sorry,” she muttered, stepping back toward him and to the side. It was dark in the tree house and he’d clicked his flashlight off—maybe to save the battery? “You, um, you took your shirt off. Want me to wring it for you?”
“It’s dry,” he said, and she felt him press it into her hand. “For you.”
“Oh.” Oh, that heavenly man. “Think we can hang up my dress and the cloak and see if they’re dry by morning?”
He paused for a minute. Then, “Fine,” he rasped. She heard his boots clomp on the floorboards. “I’ll wait outside—”
“It’s raining,” she said before he could leave. “You can just, you know, turn around. I’d hate for you to get all wet again.”
“Fine,” he said in that same gruff voice. “I’m turned.”
His voice sounded a little farther away, as if he had turned his back to her. She hesitated for a moment, then slipped out of the cold dress. It had been so pretty on the rack. She hated it now. Useless, pathetic scrap that didn’t offer her a bit of warmth. She didn’t even have a bra on—the stupid dress had a built-in shelf. All she had underneath was a nude thong. Quickly, she shimmied out of the dress and slipped the new shirt on, nearly sighing with how warm her body immediately felt.
She heard him shift. “Better?”
“Much better,” Beth Ann said, feeling blissfully warmer already. “Oh God, thank you.”
“’Course,” he said in that short, clipped voice. “Gimme your dress.”
She handed the sodden heap to him, and the cloak, and through the darkness, she could make out him hanging them.
“Hooks,” he said. “Nearly busted my head on one of them.”
She laughed at that.
“I see my pain makes you smile,” he said in that hard voice, but it had an edge of teasing to it.
“I have to admit, the thought of grim and scary Colt Waggoner being laid low by a clothing hook did make me smile,” she said.
“Grim and scary, eh?”
Oh, now she’d gone and offended him again. “Something like that,” she said lightly. Now that Colt’s warmth had left the shirt, she was beginning to shiver again. It was much better than before, but still not enough.
“I’m going to take my pants off so they can dry, too,” he said.
“Oh, of course,” she said, hating the blush creeping over her cheeks. Totally a practical move. Not that she could see anything in the dark at all.
She heard his clothing rustling and the sound of his boots being unlaced. The rain had picked up outside and she listened to it rather than the sounds of him undressing.
“Think it’ll let up by morning?” she asked him with a sigh.
“Hope so,” he said in a flat voice. “Don’t wanna stay here all weekend.”
“Me, either,” she said, and rubbed her arms again. “Too cold and everything’s all wet.”
“Still cold?” Suddenly he was behind her, and she felt the warmth radiating off his body. Okay, he was standing like, inches away from her. Was he wearing boxers? Briefs? What did he look like almost naked? Her ni**les tightened all over again. Stop it, she told herself. Not the appropriate time for rescuer fantasies. She didn’t even like the man.
“Maybe it’ll just take me a bit to heat up,” she said hopefully, just as a raindrop splattered on her head from the ceiling. She stumbled to the side and felt her arm brush his body. God, it was unfair that he was so warm and it was so cold.
He said nothing for a long moment, then, “I have an idea, but it’s not ideal.”
“Nothing about this is ideal,” she said. “Lay it on me.”
“I have a rain slicker,” he said. “Our only waterproof blanket, of a sort. We’re both down to nothing and you’re still cold.”
“Are you suggesting we share body heat?”
“Something like that,” he said, the words seemingly stiff.
“I am all for that right about now,” she said, trying not to sound too eager. Oh, hello, delicious torment. She’d been about to suggest it herself but didn’t want to seem like an eager tramp. Hi, can I rub my body all up against your hard one? I swear it’s just because I’m cold. The thought of your rippling abs and my eighteen months without sex has nothing to do with it in the slightest.
“Here,” he said, handing her the slicker. “Let’s move over to that corner. It’s the driest.”
His hand lightly brushed her shoulder and nudged her forward, and Beth Ann followed. She felt the boards creak as he shifted down to the ground, and then she heard him pat his leg. “Come on.”
Oh boy. Heart fluttering with anxiety and a mixture of things she didn’t want to define, she slid down to the floor next to him, and curled up, hugging her legs close. His warm arm was suddenly touching her legs and he pulled her body against his, and she tilted and leaned back against him.