“There is no bedroom. It’s just the kitchen, this room, and the bathroom.”
He scowls. “There’s no bed?”
I laugh at how disappointed he sounds. “Sorry, Princess, no. There’s no bed.”
He straightens to his full height, twisting his spine. “That cot just about did my back in.”
“I guess it sucks to get old,” I mumble, still staring longingly at the black fireplace. Is he right about the possibility lighting a fire could bring Carlo running? My body core is so cold, I feel like I may never get warm again.
He enters the room where I am and he eyes the raggedy couch. “That looks like a pull out couch.”
“Yeah. I think it is.”
“Then there is a bed.”
“Kind of?” I frown.
He moves to the couch and grabs the worn brown pillows, tossing them on the ground. Once he has all the pillows off, he grabs hold of the thick black bar at one end, and he yanks on it. There’s a loud squeaking noise, and the bed slowly unfolds into a bed. The mattress is sunken in the middle, but there are sheets and one thin blanket. It’s not a very big bed, probably a twin at best.
He puts his hands on his hips. “It’s too risky to light a fire, but we can share body heat.”
I clench my jaw. “Sharing body heat is getting to be a thing with us.”
“You’re welcome to sleep on the floor.” He shrugs. “But I’m sleeping on the couch.”
I eye the faded sheets and frayed blanket. “God knows who slept in that thing. There might be bed bugs.”
“Nah. It’s too cold for bugs. They can only survive for a short time in cold temperatures.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re just a wealth of useless info, aren’t you?”
He ignores me and grabs hold of the blanket and sheets. He pulls them off the bed and goes outside. Then one by one he shakes them. They’re dusty, and he coughs a lot, but he doesn’t stop until they don’t produce much dust. He comes back inside, gives another raspy cough, and says, “Good as new.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, this place is just like they Hyatt.”
He shrugs and tosses the blankets on the bed. “I need to wash up.”
“Help yourself.”
He goes into the tiny bathroom, and I put the sheets back on the thin mattress. I hear water running. The cabin might have indoor plumbing, but I’m a hundred percent positive there isn’t any hot water. I guess that doesn’t stop Dario from washing up though. When he comes out of the bathroom, he’s bear chested and his hair is damp and slicked back.
I’m annoyed by the buzz of awareness that shifts through me. But there’s no denying Dario is a handsome guy. Even with a nose that looks like it’s been broken a few times, he’s sexy. His cheekbones are high, and his lips full. I remember well the feel of that hungry mouth on mine. I shiver, taking in his thick sinewy biceps. He exudes raw, alpha masculinity. I’m mesmerized by the way his muscles flex beneath his smooth pale skin as he arranges the blanket on the bed.
When he glances over and catches me watching him, I quickly look away. He doesn’t say anything though. He simply slips on his shirt and raggedy sweater, and gets slowly on the bed. As he lays down, he lets out a heartfelt groan. I make no move to join him, but he doesn’t seem insulted. In fact, he seems to have forgotten I exist.
He rolls onto his side, and presents me with his backside. I try not to fixate on how his slacks hug his muscular thighs, and tight firm ass. It’s not easy though. He’s a beautiful male specimen. When he tugs the thin blanket up over his body, I relent. It would be foolish to stubbornly sleep on the cold, hard floor. He’s not going to care and I’m the only one who’d suffer. The only warmth available to me in this cabin is his body heat. It's silly to reject that small bit of comfort just because I don’t like him.
I go into the bathroom and peel off my shirt and pants. I’m generally very picky about hygiene. Not having a shower for two days isn’t sitting well with me. The first thing I did when I got in the cabin was wash the blood off of my face. But I’d give a million dollars to be able to take an actual hot shower. However, that isn’t going to happen. So, I wash up as best I can with the frigid water and an old towel. There’s a mostly empty tube of toothpaste on the back of the sink. I’m able to squeeze a drip of paste out onto my finger. I rub some onto my gums and teeth, craving the minty freshness. I’d kill for a toothbrush.
Once I feel semi-clean, I redress and leave the bathroom. I get on the bed with Dario, and I can tell from his breathing he’s awake. I slip under the thin blanket, grimacing at the musty scent of the material. I turn so that my back rests against Dario’s. He’s toasty warm, and I let out a shaky breath as I relax against his sturdy body. After a few minutes, that strange sense of peace from last night comes over me. It must be something about Dario that’s soothing my inner omega. All of these instinctive alpha omega emotions are very new to me. Is Dario feeling them too, or is it just me?
I close my eyes, feeling drowsy.
“You did well today,” Dario says gruffly.
I open my eyes, surprised he’s saying something nice to me. “You mean at the cabin?”
“I mean all of it. I assumed you’d whine and be a pain in the ass.”