Carlise leaned against him, and the three of them stayed like that for a long moment. Then a small gust of wind whipped under the roof of the porch, and Chappy felt Carlise shiver.
“Time to go back in,” he said firmly as he stood.
Carlise didn’t complain, simply reached over and grabbed the now-empty dog bowl, pushed the fresh water closer to Baxter’s bed, then stretched her hand up so he could help her stand. When she was on her feet once more, Chappy wrapped his arm around her waist, leading her back to the door.
She looked back at Baxter and said, “Good night, boy. We’ll see you in the morning. Stay warm and safe, okay?”
Of course the dog didn’t respond, but his big brown eyes stayed fixed on them as they headed back into the cabin.
Chapter Seven
Carlise sat on one end of the couch with her computer on her lap. After they’d fed Baxter, Riggs had suggested she get some work done. He was reading a book on his end of the sofa, and she couldn’t help but look over at him every now and then.
He looked a lot better than he had for the last three days. She much preferred him to be up and moving around than lying so still and sick. It was crazy how he’d gone from being completely out of it to seeming like he hadn’t been sick at all in mere hours. But she was more than relieved he was on the mend.
Of course, now that he was conscious, she felt a little awkward. She was an unwanted guest. And she’d been living in his space for three days. Granted, he hadn’t exactly been aware of her, but still.
She’d slept all afternoon, which she never did, and now she wasn’t tired in the least. Which was probably a good thing because she wasn’t looking forward to discussing the sleeping arrangements. She hadn’t thought twice about sleeping next to him in the bed while he was sick. He’d clearly wanted her close, and he wasn’t in any shape to do anything inappropriate. But now that he was awake and aware . . . it wasn’t as if she could just climb into bed with him again.
But she wanted to.
God, how she wanted to.
She’d never felt safer than when Riggs held her in his arms. Never felt as content.
Which was crazy. Stupid. Ridiculous.
Riggs Chapman was a stranger. She didn’t know him. He could suddenly decide she should thank him for saving her in a physical way. He could force himself on her, and there wouldn’t be anything she could do about it since he was far stronger. And she couldn’t leave . . . She was stuck here at the moment.
Just the thought of anyone taking something she didn’t want to give, then having no choice but to share tight living quarters afterward, made her almost physically sick.
“You okay?” Riggs asked.
Looking up at him in surprise, she nodded.
He stared at her for a long moment before returning her nod and turning his attention back to the book in his hands.
Carlise calmed herself. Riggs wouldn’t force himself on anyone. It was true that she didn’t know him all that well, but he’d had plenty of chances today to become aggressive, to hurt her if he wished, and he hadn’t. He’d made her dinner, opened up about being lonely, sat with her while she’d fed Baxter.
Carlise knew Riggs was one of the good guys.
She still itched to call Susie. To get her opinion. Her friend was honest to a fault and could be counted on for good advice. But no. She was enjoying the break from her real life even more. And she didn’t think Tommy could trace her calls, but she wasn’t going to risk it. Not yet. She wanted a few more days of feeling completely safe before she had to worry about harassment from her stalker starting up again.
Taking a deep breath, Carlise turned her attention back to the book she was translating. It was one of her favorite genres, romantic suspense. With a heroine in trouble . . . and in need of the man in her life to help her out of it. She always wished she was like the heroines in those books. Strong. Resilient. Brave.
She’d never felt like that. Ever. Hell, at the first sign of a threat, what did she do? Run.
But the heroines in the books she translated weren’t like her. Most of the time, they met danger head-on. Even when everything went wrong, they still fought, not willing to give up.
For a moment, Carlise daydreamed about what she’d do if Tommy showed up at the cabin. Would she be like one of the heroines in the books she loved and stand up to him? Tell him off and be prepared to protect herself?
Probably not. She’d be a mess. Her first instinct would be to hide. To get away . . . if Tommy didn’t drag her off first and do whatever he wanted.
Hating the thought of her ex following through with all the threats he’d sent via email and text—it had to be him; who else would it be?—Carlise shivered.