Why that thought made her sad, Carlise didn’t know. She tried to shrug it off. Things would change now, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.
“Please don’t let him be an asshole,” she whispered before turning her attention back to the sandwich she was making. It would be better for him to have soup or something, but she wasn’t sure he’d like to eat it cold, and she wasn’t up to using the fireplace to heat anything just yet. Maybe when he felt better, he’d show her how to do it.
Though, it wasn’t like she was going to be there long enough to really master the art of fireplace cooking.
That thought made her sad all over again, but she pushed the emotion down. She was relieved Riggs was better. He’d scared her there for a while. All she had to do was wait for the snow to stop and she could be on her way.
She still didn’t know where she was going, ultimately, but she couldn’t hide out from Tommy forever. While she was here, she’d just enjoy the feeling of being safe for now.
Chapter Four
Chappy stared at his reflection in the mirror and grimaced.
He felt awful. Grimy. He needed a shower in the worst way, but before that could happen, he’d need to go outside and start the generator so there would be hot water. He had a feeling going out into the storm wouldn’t do him any favors right now. He’d gone longer than this without showering in the past. He’d survive.
But he took his time using a washcloth to try to get as much of the dried sweat off his body as possible. He brushed his teeth, used his beard trimmer to shape up his beard, and put on a bit of deodorant. When he was done, he felt a little better. His face was still pale and his head a little woozy, but he hoped eating something would help.
Leaning heavily on the counter, Chappy stared at the mirror again, but his mind wasn’t on his looks . . . it was on the woman in his cabin. Carlise.
He didn’t remember much of the last three days, just a few blips. But one thing he did remember was waking up, disoriented, and holding her tightly against him. They’d slept as close as longtime lovers, and a sense of comfort and contentedness had filled him before he fell back to sleep.
Chappy wasn’t a man to trust easily. But for some reason, he instinctively trusted Carlise. Maybe it was because she literally could’ve done anything while he’d been out of it. She could’ve robbed him blind, put drugs in his water to kill him, or completely left him to deal with his sickness on his own. She hadn’t done any of those things.
She’d taken care of him.
He hated being sick, hated feeling helpless, and this woman, a stranger, had stepped up and done what was necessary to make sure he didn’t die.
Not that Chappy thought he would’ve kicked the bucket, but he definitely would’ve been in trouble if she hadn’t been there. She’d kept the cabin warm by stoking the fire, she’d helped him to the bathroom when he’d needed it, made him drink as much as possible and take meds.
In short . . . she’d gone above and beyond to help a stranger.
Chappy straightened too quickly—and had to throw out a hand against the wall to keep himself from falling over. “No sudden moves,” he muttered before reaching for the door handle. He wanted to see Carlise. Talk to her. Get to know her. And hanging out in the bathroom wasn’t going to get him the answers he needed. He wanted to know everything about the woman in the other room. Where she was from. What she did for a living.
Why the hell she’d been driving around on the back roads of Maine in the middle of a storm.
He opened the door and headed straight for his dresser. With his back to the kitchen, he tore off the T-shirt he’d been wearing for way too long and replaced it with a clean one. Then without really thinking—because he hadn’t ever had an overnight guest in his cabin before—he pushed his boxers down his legs and bent over to put on a clean pair.
He heard a slight gasp from the direction of the kitchen, and grimaced.
“Sorry,” he muttered, not turning around as he fumbled with one of the drawers and looked for a pair of sweats. “I forgot you were there.”
That was far from the truth. An undercurrent of awareness swam through his bloodstream. In the past, he’d felt edgy and uncomfortable when he knew someone was watching him . . . but Carlise’s gaze caused more of a buzzing feeling than an alarming one.
“It’s okay,” she said quietly.
Chappy finished dressing, then picked up his dirty clothes and added them to the hamper next to the dresser. He took a deep breath and finally turned to face his guest. He ignored the bed for now—he’d been laid up there for too long—and headed for the small table. His legs shook slightly, and he cursed his weakness.