Page 27 of Swept for Forever
Outside, the storm still raged. But in here, I had her.
The temperatureinside the tent wasn’t nearly as bad as outside, but Autumn still trembled. Even bundled up in the sleeping bag, she couldn’t stop shaking.
I rummaged through my pack and pulled out the first-aid kit. There wasn’t much in there, just the basics, but I found a packet of fever reducers. Tearing it open, I fished out two pills and grabbed my water bottle.
“Autumn.” I nudged her. “You need to take these.”
She didn’t respond.
I shifted closer, tucking a hand behind her head to lift her just enough. “Trust me, these’ll help. Just open up.”
She made a reluctant sound but parted her lips enough for me to press the pills to her mouth. I guided the bottle after them, tilting it carefully until she swallowed.
“Good,” I murmured, lowering her back down.
I reached for my jacket, planning to layer it over the sleeping bag for extra insulation. But before I could, she pushed at the bag’s opening, a weak, fumbling effort like she needed out.
“Autumn? Hey, you need to stay inside.”
She didn’t answer. She just kept moving, her hand finding my sleeve and gripping tightly.
Something in my heart misfired.
She wasn’t trying to escape the warmth. She was reaching forme.
God, look at her. No logic, no caution. No briefs prepared me for this.
The bag rustled as she shifted again, pressing closer. Even half-conscious, she knew what she needed.
I unzipped the sleeping bag just enough for her to slip her shoulder out and reach for me. Then I wedged myself beside her and stretched out on my side with my legs hooked around my pack and my shoulders brushing nylon. No use pretending there was space. This was a roomy one-person tent. Roomy for a solo camper, not an ex-lawyer, a woman, and a dog with satellite ears. We were human trail mix.
Still, I did my best to keep it honorable.
If there was a proximity clause in the gentleman’s code, I was toeing the line but not crossing it.
I hadn’t touched her on purpose. And I hadn’t looked where I shouldn’t. But hell, she was incredible. It was not just the way she looked, but the way she’d held on, fought through it, and let herself lean on me.
Soon, her head found my chest, her fingers still curled weakly around my sleeve. She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.
“Stay there,” I murmured, placing a hand on her injured shoulder. I’d reset the joint, but that didn’t mean it was good as new. The muscles were likely still sore and unstable.
Lulu flopped down at our feet with a heavy sigh, deciding she was part of this survival effort too.
The rain tapped steadily against the tent, our breaths the only sounds between us. Heat built between our bodies, chasing away the worst of the chill.
Then, out of nowhere, Lulu let out a long, low toot.
Jesus.
I coughed, grimacing. What the hell had she eaten? A rabbit? A rotting marmot?
Autumn stirred weakly. “Ugh…what is that?”
“Lulu just tried to kill us,” I muttered, pinching my nose.
Her lips twitched. It was not quite a smile, but close.
“Good thing she’s not a Tibetan Mastiff, or we’d be dead right about now,” I added.
