A slight exhalation of relief left her lips as Rick held the door open for her, letting her inside.
He and Diego hadn’t expected company, so the ever-present cereal box was still on the table, and he hadn’t taken out the trash. A rinsed stack of bowls and spoons had yet to be cleaned.
“Would you mind if I made some tea?” Lana’s voice was strained. “I’m not feeling all that well.”
Halfway between the front door and the kitchen, her legs quit working. Rick was ready for it, having watched what little color was left in her face drain away the last couple of miles of the drive.
He caught her, his arm around her waist keeping her on her feet even as she sagged. Lana was a proud woman, and she tried to pull away. “I’m really fine, love. I promise.”
“You promise, huh?” he said gruffly. This time, he didn’t ask. Instead, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her protectively to his chest. “No offense, but I’m not buying it.”
She’d get her tea, but he’d be getting it for her. First, he needed to warm her up. The fireplace in the living room didn’t work half as well as the woodburning stove in the bedroom. Setting her down on the oversize chair he liked to read in on cold winter nights, Rick stripped the bed of its coverings and brought them to her, wrapping Lana up as tightly as he could. Then he worked on getting the stove going, feeding it small sticks of kindling until it started to roar with heat.
At her murmured thanks, Rick headed into the kitchen and fixed her the tea she’d asked for. By the time he returned, she’d snuggled into his blankets so deeply, only her eyes and nose were visible.
Since Lana’s toes were tucked beneath her, Rick sat on the ottoman, arms resting on his knees as he faced her. She was still wearing his jacket, and only now did he realize he was pretty cold himself. Nothing worth mentioning, but still. The heat from the fire felt good on his shoulder. And when his hands had warmed enough, he took her still ice-cold ones in his own, helping her steady the shaking as she drank her tea.
“Do you want another cup?” he asked, watching her drain the mug like it wasn’t burning hot on her tongue.
“Thank you. Are you mad?” At his raised eyebrow, Lana said, “You seem mad at me.”
“I’m not. I’m mad at me.”
This time, she was the one to raise an eyebrow.
“I promised I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you today,” he said tightly. “Instead, I wasn’t by your side when you needed me.”
“I’m pretty sure I remember you jumping in the water too.”
“Only because my incredibly brave date jumped first.” Holding her hands and her gaze, Rick told her in a quiet voice, “You saved someone today, Lana. I am so incredibly proud of you, I can’t see straight. But I’m ready to drag you to the hospital at the first sign of a sneeze.”
“Don’t worry, dearest. Montgomerys never sneeze.” She offered him a sweet, tired smile. “Now where are we on that second cup of tea?”
* * *
She was roasting alive.
At some time in the night, cold had turned to comfy and comfy to warm. They were way past the point of warm, and Lana could feel sweat beading down between her shoulder blades, along her spine, and behind her knees.
“I’m stuck.” That came out far more plaintive than she’d intended.
Rick had been dozing next to her chair, his voice husky with sleep as he woke and helped her pull away the top blanket. “I had to make sure you didn’t go back to work.”
“I’m a person lasagna. Too many layers.”
“I don’t know,” he rumbled. “I’ve always kind of liked lasagna.”
“Even when lasagna was being stubborn?”
“Especially when lasagna was being stubborn.” His strong hands slid into her hair, now damp from sweat. “It’s my favorite part about lasagna.”
Oh. Well, that was nice.
“Thank you again for saving me,” Lana said softly. “You jumped in the water for me.”
“You jumped in the water for us,” he reminded her gently. She could see him hesitate, but the words he always kept inside for the first time came to his tongue. “I thought I was going to lose you. It would take a hell of a lot more than a cold swim to stop me.”
“She had no idea what she left, did she? Your ex was insane.”
His jaw rippled, and then he brushed his thumb down the side of her cheek in wordless question. Lana leaned in, because she didn’t think she could find it in herself to stay strong anymore.
Whatever this was, it had always burned hotter than a stove and too many blankets. But the heat was more than what she could handle right then. Somehow, he understood, and when Rick lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the blanket-stripped bed, the look in his eyes tempered that fire.
It had been so long, and it had been for him too. Lana didn’t know what she’d expected, but when he reached for her, she had already reached for him. In the darkness of a room lit only by the stove’s glowing embers, Lana closed her eyes and finally found peace.
Chapter 14
For the first time in a long time, Rick didn’t wake up in his bed alone.
Half of the bed wasn’t cold. His arms weren’t empty. A knee was dangerously close to his groin. He wasn’t sure what had roused him, but the clock on the nightstand said it was only five in the morning. Memories of the night before swirled through Rick’s head, leaving him wondering if he was in some sort of waking dream. Maybe if he opened his eyes, he’d wake up and realize he couldn’t possibly be this lucky. Maybe if he held still, the weight of her head pressed to his bicep wouldn’t suddenly disappear.
But the reality was, somehow, he’d gotten his dream girl. And he was a fool if he didn’t at least take a little peek through one eye to commit this to memory.
“Morning.” Lana’s voice was thick with sleep, her own eyes still closed.
“It’s still early.” Rick shifted as she snuggled in, his body instinctively making a place for her to burrow. “You can go back to sleep.”
She hummed in distinctive feminine appreciation, her cold fingers finding a nice warm spot along his side to tuck into. And yes, maybe that was somewhat hard to ignore, but he’d take cold Lana fingers versus no cold Lana fingers any day of the week.
Even as she fell back into a light snooze, Rick tried to think of anything he could do to make this happen again. Nope. Not a thing. He’d literally botched them up from the very beginning, from the atrocious first date to not being by her side yesterday when she’d jumped into the lake. Rick was on overload, overwhelmed by everything about her. Respect and desire and sheer freaking relief. That was what she made him feel. Like he was drowning, and she was that first desperate gasp of air. An invisible weight he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying on his shoulders was tossed aside somewhere between the chair and his bed.