Page 21 of Between Two Thorns

She needed to shower, need to get the grossness off, use her best exfoliant and scrub like she used to be able to think she could do with the cluster of freckles on her shoulder.

“Sweetheart,” Sam tried again, but this time, he grabbed both of her wrists, easily encompassing them with his big hands. “Cálmate.”

Surprisingly soft hands.

Rose finally stilled. There was something…encompassing about the low intonation of the words. Like he had a voice that must be obeyed.

That calmed her, at least on the surface.

Her heart was doing a rumba in her chest, pulse racing under his palms.

“There we go,” he drawled, giving her a smile with those full lips and that perfect amount of stubble.

He released her, and Rose felt herself pout again, dammit.

“Alright. Now, we survive the night. “

***

Sam’s decision to sleep in the ambulance was the easy part of the plan—just that instant of Del opening the back door to kick the zombie hand out caused a chill to creep in from the desert night.

So, they all set to work trying to keep the heat in the rig.

Rose had to be lifted over the bench seat and into the back while Sam grabbed the shock blankets. Which the redhead had taken for big folded blocks of aluminum foil. Mr. Paramedic had taken charge and ordered Del to help him tape one of the “blankets” over the front window.

Rose scrambled around the back, only able to balance on her unwrapped foot.

She had seen the back of an ambulance before—on TV, of course. Never actually been in one. They always had some sort of medical gurney in there .

She and Del had launched that at the zombie hoard that was trying to climb their way in.

There was just a lot of stuff lining the walls. Cabinets and metal things and doors and compartments and things that she opened and looked through. But she didn’t recognize most medical supplies—a lot of stuff that was wrapped in plastic or shiny metal—none of which looked helpful. There was a seat to pull out of nowhere, but that was it.

All she could figure was the three of them would have to lie down on the hard, rubber-coated floor. She grabbed for a bag of gauze and things that would have to serve as a pillow. And, she supposed, they’d be crammed together like a row of sardines. Under another one of those shock blankets.

“Could just sleep in the front seat.” Del murmured, cutting the tape with his teeth and making sure the foil stayed stuck to the window.

“Too much cold air in the front.” Sam murmured.

“We’re fine. We’ll just make room.” Rose assured Del, giving a little smile.

She couldn’t deny that the prospect of cuddling up all night with two handsome men who had saved her life and limb was perhaps a bit too exciting.

But the younger man looked just a little bit uncomfortable.

Del didn’t emote much—not with his face, at least. Rose wasn’t sure if she was picking up on some sort of subconscious body language or just reading his vibe easily.

Though the younger man moved to the back of the bus, towards the doors, glancing out into the dark of the night.

“I’ll keep watch,” He offered, as if that was an alternative to keeping warm.

Sam had just lifted himself over the front bench seat into the back, ducking his head to keep from hitting the ceiling and moving carefully around Rose and her ankle where she sat along the floor. “You’re gonna freeze, man, you said it yourself. Temps drop like a stone out here once the sun is down.”

Del jerked his hand towards his mouth. And Rose had the distinct impression that he was trying to stop himself from biting at his cuticles again, since he had no fingernails left. It might have looked aggressive from the outside, from the way Sam stilled at her right hip and sighed.

But, to Rose, it looked… fretful. Torn.

“It’s fine.” Rose smoothed it over. “Just, come under the blanket if ya see your breath, okay?” She offered him a smile.

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