Page 60 of Saved By the Boss

“Yes. Hold on.” I grab the kit from under the sink and bring it back to where Declan is sitting. The operator starts giving me instructions, but my hands are shaking, and every step feels like it’s taking too long. Declan winces as I carefully remove shards of glass and clean the cuts on his face, his jaw tight, but he doesn’t complain.

I’m so flustered that the gauze slips from my fingers. “Ma’am? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I snap, though I’m clearly not. I try to keep listening to her instructions, to do what she says, but my hands are shaking too hard to be of any use and my nerves are shot. My frustration boils over, and before I can stop myself, I hang up the phone and toss it onto the table. “This is ridiculous. They’re not even coming.”

Declan looks at me, his expression calm despite the pain I know he’s feeling. “Jade, it’s fine. You’re doing fine.”

I shake my head, pacing the small space. “You’re hurt, and they’re saying, ‘Too bad, he just needs to wait’? What if something gets worse?”

“It won’t,” he says firmly. “I promise it’s not as bad as it looks.”

I stop pacing, meeting his gaze. He’s pale, bloodied, and clearly in pain, but there’s a steadiness in his eyes that makes me pause. “You’re so damn calm about this,” I mutter. “How can you be so calm?”

He gives a faint smile, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Comes with practice.”

I shake my head again, but the tension in my chest eases just a little.

“My cabin isn’t that far from here, I could just walk up the mountain,” he says after a beat, looking slightly uncomfortable. I look down at his leg then turn toward the window where the wind is still blowing so hard it’s rattling the shutters. I imagine the snow is still coming down so hard that nothing is visible beyond it.

“There’s zero chance I’m letting you even attempt that,” I tell him forcefully. “Even if you could walk properly, you’d probably get knocked over by the wind and not found until the storm passes. You’ll stay here until its over.”

“Jade—” he starts, but I don’t let him argue.

“I’m not budging,” I warn him. “You did me a favor by bringing the wood, now I’m going to do you a favor and make sure you don’t die out in that storm. And if you even try to leave and die out there, I’ll just kill you first myself.”

A smile pulls at the corner of his lips, and he concedes, promising that he won’t bring it up again. As my panic starts to subside, I suddenly realize that I’m shivering. It’s no wonder, my clothes are soaking wet after falling in the snow earlier.

“I’m just going to get changed out of these wet clothes,” I say, glancing down at myself. My jeans are soaked through, my gloves and coat dripping onto the floor. “You should too.”

He looks down at himself, as if just now realizing the state he’s in.

I pause, suddenly realizing the severity of the situation. He doesn’t have anything, no clothes, no supplies, nothing. Hecame here to do me a favor, he obviously had no intention of being here so long, and he especially didn’t plan to bring an overnight bag. For a moment, neither of us speaks, and then he adds, almost sheepishly, “There’s an emergency duffel bag in the truck. It’s got some stuff in it.”

“I’ll get it,” I say before he can argue.

“Jade, you don’t have to—”

“I’ll get it,” I repeat firmly, already grabbing my coat. He starts to protest again, but I cut him off with a look. “You can barely walk as it is. Stay here. Rest.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just watches as I pull on my boots and step back out into the storm. The wind hits me like a freight train, nearly knocking me off my feet, but I press forward. The truck is barely visible through the swirling snow, its crumpled hood buried under the fallen tree. I grab the bed of the truck for support, my gloves slipping on the icy surface, and manage to reach the passenger side.

The door creaks open, and I grab the duffel bag from the seat, clutching it tightly as I make my way back to the cabin. By the time I step inside, I’m shivering uncontrollably, my fingers numb, but the look of relief on Declan’s face makes it worth it.

“Here,” I say, setting the bag beside him. “Change into something dry.”

I feel like a human icicle, tottering my way to my room on legs that are so cold they’ve become stiff. I go into the bathroom to peel off the wet clothes, which have nearly frozen after my little foray outside. My entire body shivers uncontrollably until I’m able to find warm, dry clothes. Slowly and carefully, I slip on three layers, hoping they’ll help warm me up. As soon asI’m properly dressed, I walk back out to my living area, where Declan is still sitting, waiting for me.

10

Declan

This was supposed to be a favor for her, not me burdening her during the storm. She basically had to carry me from the truck, so it’s clear I’m stuck here for the time being.

I grit my teeth against the sharp pain in my ankle, which pulses with every slight movement. I know it’s bad, probably severely sprained or worse, but I’ll have to deal with it later. For now, I need to focus on not being a burden.

My eyes flick back to the door as she reappears, the duffel bag clutched in her gloved hands. Snow clings to her coat, and her boots leave wet tracks across the floor as she steps inside. She’s shivering, her cheeks red from the cold, but she sets the bag beside me.

“Here,” she says through gritted teeth, probably to keep them from chattering. “Change into something dry.”

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