I licked the spoon. “Yum. Haven’t had this in ages.”
Rio paused to stare at me, eyes a bit big.
“You okay?” I asked.
He nodded and ducked his head to shovel more food in his mouth. But he paused again as though watching me eat made him feel weird.
“Eat,” I told him. “As much as you want. I love seeing people enjoy the food I make. It’s why I’m a chef. I remember the first time I made a batch of cookies and gave them to some school friends. It wasn’t anything special, but they loved them, and I remember feeling like I could fly.”
“You’re a good cook. The soup is good, and the bread too.” Rio looked at the bread, which he’d eaten most of, and then the stewpot.
I waved at the pot. “Eat. I’m good, I promise.”
He refilled his bowl twice more while I slowly made my way through mine. Warmth finally broke through and began to make me sleepy. I set my bowl down and snuggled deeper into the pile of blankets. Was Rio cold? He was barefoot again, his hair slightly damp from the trips outside. I watched him pick up our bowls and move them to the kitchen. He organized the supplies and ate another three pies before putting the leftovers away.
I must have nodded off because movement of the stewpot startled me awake. I blinked at him as he used the gloves to carry the pot to the kitchen. The grate was back in place in front of the fire, and I was blessedly warm.
“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m so tired.”
“Battling the cold will do that,” Rio said. “The snow is still coming down hard.” He sounded worried. “I hope your boss comes soon.”
“Am I taking up all your blankets?” I struggled to free myself from the nest. “I’m okay by the fire.”
“It’s fine,” Rio said. “I told you I run warm. I’m okay.”
“At least come sit by the fire. I won’t bite, I promise.”
He flinched. Had I said something wrong? Maybe I’d read him wrong and he was afraid of being close to another man?
“Rio?”
He let out a long puff of air and made his way over, carefully lowering himself down onto the blankets. “How’s your ankle?”
“Throbbing,” I admitted. “Still think it’s a ligament?”
His head bobbed. “Yeah, bones are more of an ache than a throb when broken. You’ll probably have to get it immobilized. They don’t usually do casts for that, but a walking brace maybe, and instructions to keep off of it.”
That was going to suck. How would I move around the kitchen and still keep it immobile?
The wind howled, whipping hard enough that the walls shook. A waft of frigid air seemed to pour into the space and I shivered. Would the walls even hold? Rio moved closer, digging into the blanket nest himself, and leaving us practically on top of the fireplace.
“Haven’t really had money for repairs,” Rio admitted. “Even if there was much of a way to fix it. Was nice back when I first bought it. Walls and a roof. That was all I thought I needed. Well, that and space.” He curled up close, using the wall as a back brace, even though I thought being that close to the wall was like sitting on an ice cube.
“Did it help? Having the space?” I asked, wondering if the comments about his PTSD were true, and if being out here, away from everyone, really helped.
“At first?” He tucked the blankets until they were around us and I sat close enough to him to feel his heat too. He did run warm. A bit like having a personal heater. “I thought being away from everyone was good.”
“It sounds lonely.”
“Sometimes,” he agreed. He reached over and lifted me like I weighed nothing, shifting the blankets around so we both had a big pile. “I hope your boss comes before dark.”
“What happens after dark?”
He was silent for a few minutes before saying, “The cold gets worse.”
“We can keep the fire going. You have lots of firewood.”
“Never lasts. No matter how much I cut, it’s never enough…”
Did that mean he went part of the winter without heat? How was that possible? I frowned at him, but he stared into the flames instead. I closed my eyes and let the heat soothe all my worries. Even if it was only for a few minutes, it was okay. I didn’t think Rio would hurt me, or let anything hurt me. And the storm raising a fuss outside made me want to nap. Since I couldn’t tell from the light coming through the windows what time it was, I figured it didn’t much matter if it was two in the afternoon or seven at night. A nap sounded great.
Chapter 4
A pounding on the door barely roused me, but the movement around me had me blinking into the dark of the room. The fire had faded to little more than a few embers, and I could feel the chill where the blankets didn’t cover my face. But Rio was up and moving as though we’d been caught doing something much more intimate than sharing a blanket.
The pounding came again. “Hello?” I heard a familiar voice call.
“It’s Zach,” I told Rio, and scooted upright, wincing when my ankle screamed at me. “Stupid ankle.”
Rio opened the door, and I was surprised to see the snow piled up midway in the frame, but Zach stood below the steps, bundled up like an Eskimo, with Sean behind him. Both of them held flashlights, the giant blinding kind. Zach’s light fell on me and I could see his relief.
“Are you okay?” He demanded.
Rio stepped back, but it took a bit of work for Zach and Sean to get through the door. Zach actually shoved at the piled snow, pushing it outside the open doorway and trying to tramp off the boots he wore. Sean stared at Rio, a frown on his face.
“I’m okay,” I said. “Just hurt my ankle. Rio was helping me keep warm.” I sort of realized then, that I was still in nothing but my undies and the hoodie I’d borrowed. “My clothes were wet,” I offered weakly. It did sort of look like we had a little tryst or something. But I didn’t think Zach was the sort of guy to judge me.
“Frozen,” Sean said as he picked up the stack that Rio had folded for me. “The pants are like ice.”
Rio kept his distance. I wanted to reach for him, assure him everything was okay, Zach and Sean wouldn’t hurt him, but maybe he wasn’t that used to being around people.
“It’s best you take him home,” Rio said softly. “It’s not safe out here.”
“Let me get that fire stoked,” Zach said. “You don’t have any other heat?” He looked around the place and I could tell he was assessing things with that contractor gaze. “My guys are on break but could probably be up in a few days to do some repairs.”
“I have no money to pay them,” Rio said. “It’s fine. Just take Montana home, please. He should be warm and safe, not out here in the wild.”
Zach seemed to want to protest again, but Sean touched his shoulder and shook his head. Sean moved to my side and reached out to peel the blankets back over my injured ankle, of which my foot was still sticking out. His examination was similar to Rio’s, gentle and thorough. “Not broken,” he said.
“Torn ligament,” I said. “Rio thinks. He was a combat medic and an EMT.” I defended as though Sean was somehow attacking him. Sean took off his coat and handed it to me. “You’ll get cold,” I protested.