Page 26 of Craving Chaos

“Probably not. He’s married with kids and sticks to the accounting side of the business. Anyway,” she continues. “I refused to wear dresses and would have cut my hair short like the boys if my mom had let me. Anything to be the same as them. But after the accident, I made my mom put my hair in pigtails for the next six weeks straight to make sure everyone could see my battle scar.”

“I bet she loved that.”

“She took full advantage, insisting on curling the damn things every morning. I looked like I should have been on a box of Little Debbie cakes, but I didn’t care, so long as I could show off my stitches and scar.”

“I bet you were a handful.”

“I suppose there’s a reason my parents didn’t have more kids after me,” she teases. “Oran was a parent pleaser, and Cael followed his lead. I was stubborn as a mule.”

Still are, I think to myself.

“There, last one all tied up. Five stitches. I’d give you a sticker and a lollipop for being such a good boy, but all I have to offer is baked beans.”

“Beans sound incredible. Let’s eat.”

“I’m not sure if they’re hot yet.” She peers into the pot.

“Don’t care. It’s time for this day to be over.”

“I can’t argue there.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll build a bonfire and hope someone sees. Until then, we both need to sleep.”

She first puts a bandage over her handiwork, then helps me back into my shirts. It’s still cold inside. The fire hasn’t been going long enough to heat the place fully, but it’s getting warmer. Once she stokes said fire, she brings over the pan of beans, then pours what water has melted into a cup. We eat straight out of the pan and share the cup.

I’m not a huge fan of beans, especially with maple syrup in them, but these lukewarm beans might as well be filet mignon to my starving tastebuds. It’s only enough to whet my appetite. I could eat the entire stock of canned goods I’m so goddamn hungry. But that would be foolish, and I’m not quite delirious enough to go there. Sleep will help, then we can tackle the next set of problems in the morning.

I stand and stare at the small bed. “We’ll have to share it. There’s no way either of us can sleep on the cold floor.” I’m pretty sure I’ve stated the obvious, but my thoughts are so damn sluggish.

“If you lay on your good side, back to the wall, we should fit—big spoon, little spoon.”

I like the sound of that more than I should. It has to be the exhaustion. I assure myself that curling up with a warm body on a soft bed would sound amazing no matter who I was with.

I slide my boots off and pull back the covers, then ease myself onto the mattress. I don’t want to break open my stitches and have to go through that torture again. “Get in.”

Shae pours a few more dribbles of water out of the snow bucket and has us each take one more drink. Neither of us has gone to the bathroom since the airport hangar. I assume we’re both too dehydrated to have anything in our bladders. She adds a few larger branches to the fire, then kicks off her boots and slides in bed next to me. The soft warmth of her body feels amazing. For the first time in two days, tension melts from my aching muscles.

I curl my top arm around her and gingerly tug her back against me, still mindful of my stitches. Shae stiffens, and I get the sense she’s going to argue, so I silence her before she starts.

“Arm’s gotta go somewhere. Now quit fussing and go to sleep.”

“Fine, but you should know you’re not exactly my type, so don’t get any ideas.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I murmur, already half asleep.

“I prefer more curves and less testosterone.”

“Mmm…” I muse, not buying it. I’ve seen the way she reacts to me.

“If you don’t believe me, you can ask the woman I’m dating when we get home.”

Dating? That has my attention. How had it not occurred to me that Shae could be involved with someone? Guess I haven’t exactly had time to ponder that sort of thing. But now that I have, I take note that she didn’t say girlfriend. She may be seeing someone but only casually.

“She’s not here. I am.” I’m only giving her a hard time, but it makes me realize, as dumbfounding as it may be, that I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad I’m the one stuck in this tiny cabin with Shae Byrne because no other body should be wrapped snugly around hers.

Knowing that must be the final sign of delirium, I give in to sleep and let everything else fall away.

CHAPTER 14

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