Page 8 of Sheltered By the Mountain Man

“I think I see a cabin through those trees. Is that it?” she asks, voice breathless as she points ahead.

I follow her motion and see home. Finally. “Yeah, that's it. Let's go, Nitro.” My dog zips ahead, running up the steps to the front porch.

We stagger up the steps. I dig the key out of my pocket, and manage to get the door open. Nitro pushes past us and makes a beeline for his water bowl, lapping it up like a dog that's been wandering in the desert for days. He shakes the water from his fur, spraying the kitchen, and curls up on his bed by the fireplace.

Bella drops her backpack on the floor and lets out a little sigh. The breathy sound cuts through the quiet. She's dripping wet, cold, and goddamn gorgeous. I have no business being anywhere near her.

“Where to?” she asks, looking up at me from where she's still tucked against my side. “Bed or the couch?”

“Couch.” I'm already fighting off the desire to follow the scent of roses along her skin and see where it leads. Getting her anywhere near my bed would break the thin threads of control I'm holding onto. I've never reacted this way to a woman. A concussion is the only explanation, and I don't know what to do about it.

I collapse on the couch, sinking into the cushions and try not to groan. “Thank you, Bella.”

She kneels down and starts unlacing my boots.

“You don't have to—”

Her golden eyes flick up to meet mine, then away. “I know. I want to.” She pulls off one of my boots and reaches for the other. “This might hurt.”

It will, but pain is a familiar friend. “I promise not to cry.”

She grins, then unties my boot. With exquisite tenderness, she eases it off my foot, her touch light on the swollen flesh. It's tender, but nothing some rest, ice, and pain relievers won't fix. The cut on my thigh is more concerning.

“Where's your first aid kit?”

“Under the bathroom sink.” I should be the one caring for her, not the other fucking way around.

Bella sets my boots out of the way, then tugs hers off, wincing as she eases them off each foot. She must have blisters from the new boots. After she cleans up, I'll treat them.

She gives Nitro a quick pet, then steps into the bathroom.

When she returns, she's wet and shivering in the chilly cabin air. I hate that I'm sitting here while she's soaked through. I need to take care of her. Start a fire and get her warmed up, so she's comfortable here.

I'd planned to take her back to her car, but with the way the rain is falling outside... I can't let her go. Not yet.

Bella digs a couple pain killers out of the kit, then gets me some water from the kitchen. She kneels beside me again, taking in my ankle, ripped jeans, and blood-soaked thigh. Very gently, she moves the fabric aside, trying to see the depth of the injury.

It's more than a scratch. I'm going to have to clean it properly. Can't do that with my pants on.

Bella reaches the same conclusion. “Uh... okay. You'll um... have to take your pants off.”

“You don't want dinner first?”

Her hands freeze on my thigh and her eyes grow wide. A deep red flush steals over her cheeks. “I—I meant for your leg! To stop the bleeding.”

I chuckle. I shouldn't tease her but damn she's adorable when flustered and trying to be professional. “I know.”

She glares at me, but it's more fluster than irritation.

“I'm going to need your help.”

Her gaze darts down to my belt buckle and back to my face. That lovely flush sweeps down her neck beneath the collar of her jacket. How far does it go?

She squares her shoulders. “Right. Okay. Of course you do.” She clears her throat. “No big deal. I've—I've read books. About this. And medical things.”

Books about medical things? I bite back a grin. I can't remember the last time I smiled this much. “You're really selling it.”

Her fingers curl around my belt and she glares at me again. “Don't make it weird.”

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