Page 67 of Saved By the Boss

I try to climb off of him, but he holds me there, keeping me pinned to him as he collapses against the couch, his body spent. Our nude bodies touching under the blanket was more than enough to keep us warm. Eventually he readjusts, so he’s lying down, and he pulls me against him, stroking my hair and back until his breathing becomes deeper and sleep overtakes him.

The first thingI notice when I wake up is the warmth. Not the fire, though it’s still crackling faintly in the fireplace, but the solid, heavy weight of Declan’s arm draped across me, his body pressed close against mine. For a moment, I just lay there, blinking up at the ceiling, trying to process how we got here.

The night comes rushing back in flashes. The card games. The whiskey. The laughter that came so easily after the first few shots. The way his green eyes seemed to glow in the firelight, and the way he kissed me, slow at first, like he wasn’t sure I’d let him, and then deeper, more intense.

And then, of course, thesex. His naked body is still pressed against mine underneath my blanket, and I feel the familiar soreness of a night of passion. I should feel bad about it, shouldn’t I? Sleeping with a guy I barely know? But I don’t. Not even a little. It felt way too good and almost inspired me to try for a round two now that we were sober.

I glance over at him, taking in the way his messy red hair falls across his forehead, his face relaxed and peaceful in sleep. He looks so different like this, without the weight of whatever he’s been carrying around etched into his features. It’s almost enough to make me forget about the storm still raging outside. Almost.

I ease myself out from under his arm, careful not to wake him. He stirs slightly, muttering something unintelligible, but doesn’t open his eyes. I make sure the blanket is firmly wrapped around him before I quietly pull on my clothes and make my way toward the kitchen.

The cabin is still dark, the only light coming from the fire and the faint gray glow seeping through the cracks of the shutters. I flip the light switch out of habit, knowing full well it won’t work, and sure enough, nothing happens. The electricity is, unfortunately, still out.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair as I glance toward the door. I decide to peek out, just to see the state of things. The snow is piled high against the porch, and it’s still coming down hard, the wind still howling through the trees. I can just make out the silhouette of the tree that collapsed against Declan’s car, though even that’s a strain to see past the thick snow. There’s no way we’re going anywhere anytime soon.

Not that I’m complaining.

With the storm still in full swing, there’s not much else to do but make breakfast and clean up after last night. The small dining room is a bit of a mess, the table littered with empty shot glasses, a couple of bowls, and the remnants of our impromptu card game scattered across the table. I grab the dishes and start washing them, the faint ache in my muscles a reminder of just how eventful the night had been.

Once the kitchen is back in order, I find some instant coffee and quickly rummage through the refrigerator for some supplies. If the power stays out much longer, I’m going to need to fight my way to the shed for the generator.

I find some eggs and bacon and pull out a skillet, making us both a hearty breakfast. After all the drinking and vigorousfestivitiesof last night, hopefully this replenished our energy. Once the water for the coffee boiled, I make us both a mug, unsure how he takes his. I pile everything onto a tray and carry it back to the couch, balancing it carefully as I set it down on the coffee table.

Before he wakes up, I set another log on the fire, the flames roaring higher as heat licks my face. Declan stirs again, his eyes fluttering open as he stretches, wincing slightly when he moves his injured ankle.

“Morning,” I say, moving to sit down beside him and handing him one of the mugs.

“Morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep. He sits up slowly, the blanket pooling around his waist, and takes the mug from me, his fingers brushing against mine. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“It’s no big deal,” I say, shrugging. “Besides, I figured we could use a real breakfast after last night.”

He smirks, taking a sip of the black coffee without any complaint.

“Fair enough.”

We eat in comfortable silence, curled up together on the couch in the light of the fire. It’s strange how easy this feels, like we’ve known each other for much longer than just a day. Maybe it’s the storm, or the fact that we don’t have much choice but to stick it out together, but there’s a connection here that I can’t ignore.

Declan finishes his coffee and sets the mug down on the table, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he speaks.

“You’re full of surprises, you know that?” he asks.

“Oh yeah?” I ask through a mouthful of bacon. “How so?”

“Well, for one, you’ve got this whole storm survival thing down,” he says, gesturing toward the fire and the breakfast tray. “I was half expecting you to panic when the power went out.”

I snort, shaking my head.

“I’ve lived through my share of power outages, and they’re a little easier to deal with here. If I didn’t have a gas stove and a fireplace, I might have been a little more panicked.”

He nods, his expression softening.

“Well, you’ve done an excellent job with controlling what you can. I’m honestly impressed.”

There’s a hint of admiration in his tone, and I can’t help but blush. I look away, focusing on the plate in my lap.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, suddenly feeling a little shy.

The silence stretches between us again, but this time, it feels different. Charged. I glance back at him, and the look in his eyes sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine.

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