Page 4 of Gideon's Gratitude

Still, the guy held on for just a moment longer. Our eyes met and held.

Finally, he pulled back. He took a step and his shoe squished.

I glanced down at the expensive leather, now partly coated in mud and thoroughly ruined. “You should take your shoes off. And probably the rest of your clothes.”

My cheeks burned. Not all men would take to that suggestion.

Archer pulled his wet shirt away from his rather impressive chest. Broad and sturdy. “I was hoping to use your phone to call for help.” He glanced around as if finally seeing his surroundings. “How do you have power? The tree that fell across my SUV also seemed to take out the power line. Or at least the line to my house.”

Ah, that explained quite a lot. “I hope you weren’t in the SUV.”

“No, waiting out the worst of the rain in the new place. But the gas isn’t hooked up, so I didn’t have a fireplace or heating. I was about to give up and brave the elements when the tree crashed down across my vehicle. Is that normal?”

The man was entirely too calm for someone who’d just lost his ride. I would’ve been in a panic at this point.

Before I could answer, he continued. “I saw your lights, and I headed this way. My phone’s dead. Didn’t plug it in last night.” A rueful eye roll. “By the time I realized, the storm was upon me, and I figured I’d plug it in for the drive home.”

Fair enough. I’d once or twice hit ten percent power, but I’d never gone below. I needed to be reachable at all times. In case something happened to one of the kids. I’d never forgive myself if I wasn’t reachable and something happened. Of course, whether anyone would bother to call me was a whole other matter.

“My power did go out. But I have a backup generator that kicked in.” I snagged the wet towel. “I would offer to drive you to civilization—”

“I can’t ask you to do that—”

“Which is appreciated because I can’t drive at night.” I fingered the towel. “Look, why don’t I grab you some dry clothes? They’re going to be small on you, but I have a couple of oversized things.” From back when I was a much bigger guy. I was still several inches under six feet,but my beefy muscles were definitely gone. I was no longer the hearty and powerful man I’d once been.

“I hate to impose. If I could just—”

Another bolt of lightning.

He grimaced. “Are storms up here always this bad?”

I squinted. “Lightning and thunder? This time of year? Rarely. Windstorms that knock over trees that take out power lines? Frequently. Look, I appreciate you want to leave, but for the moment, I think you should stay put. We don’t know what other trees have fallen and that’ll make the drive treacherous for whoever tries to get up here to help you. The storm will eventually pass—”I hope. “—and you’ll be able to get rescued. Or, come morning, I can survey the damage and, if it’s not bad, drive you back down the mountain myself.” My car wasn’t all that great, but she was reliable. I’d installed winter tires last week, so we’d be safe. And the truth was this storm could last for a couple of days. Reprieves were likely, but timing them could be tricky.

“You’re right, of course. Asking someone to take that risk is unfair.” Archer ran his hand through his hair. “I’d appreciate some dry clothes.”

“Right.”Focus.“I’ll be right back.”

With reluctance, I headed upstairs to find sweatpants and a hoodie that’d fit. Well, the pants would be way too short, but at least they wouldn’t be too tight. I nabbed socks and another towel. When I returned downstairs, Archer had removed his socks and had padded over to the fireplace, holding out his hands to the heat.

Lucky was gazing up admiringly at his apparently new friend.

Archer turned as I came down the stairs. “I hope this was okay.” A shiver ran through him, and he grimaced.

“Of course. You should strip right now.” I dropped the clothes on the couch. “Are you hungry? Do you need food?”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

Ha, he hadn’t actually turned down the offer. “I was planning to make some soup and crostini bread.”

“Soup.” Archer’s eyes shone. “Soup sounds amazing. I can’t remember the last time I ate.”

“Well, let me get that started.” I pointed to the clothes. “Hopefully they’ll fit.”

The other man pulled at his shirt. “Anything is preferable to this.”

I nodded and made my way over to the galley kitchen. I opened the cupboard and selected mushroom soup. Oh, crap. I headed to the pass-through. “Do you want hummus and…”

In the mere moments it’d taken to locate the soup, Archer had removed his shirt and was pulling off his pants.

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