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“Can you afford to get injured? Because zombies make mistakes. I’ve watched you; baking can be hazardous.”
Deb spun, scowling. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got it all down to a routine.” A shiver ran from her head to her toes, and she turned her back to him. Strong arms closed around her, warmth pressed against her back, and she stiffened.
“Relax. I’m just trying to warm you up, nothing else.” His voice rumbled in her ear and down her spine. She wanted to remain stiff, but between his warmth and the comfort, she relaxed. “Drink your tea. Let’s speed this up.”
Deb blew and sipped; the tea too hot to gulp. Of course he wanted to hurry. He couldn’t be truly attracted to her; merely forced into proximity by a family connection. After she drank half the tea, she stopped shivering.
Michael let go and stepped away. He bundled her sheets and blanket on to her folding chair, picked up her mattress and examined it. “There’s no obvious hole, and it’s too late to be searching. I’ll bring my mattress upstairs.” He stomped out of the apartment and returned before she could object, spreading her blankets across the floppy full size mattress and plugging it in to fully reinflate. The motor buzzed.
She put her mug in the sink. “You’re going home to sleep, right?”
He shook his head. “No. I’ve got a backpacking mattress in the truck. I think.”
Deb grimaced. Nic had loaned him the larger inflatable—Isabella’s mattress—because of Michael’s bad back. “Then you can give me that one, and take the bigger one back. I’m smaller and will fit better.”
“No. I’m not doing that.” He crossed his arms.
“Well, I’m not taking your bed.” She mimicked his stance.
“So neither of us get any sleep? That’s stupid.”
Deb pointed at the door, shaking with fury. “Get out. I don’t let anyone call me stupid. Not anymore.”
“Your ex called you stupid? What an idiot.” Michael grimaced. “I wasn’t calling you stupid. I was saying not sleeping was stupid, because you need sleep. I’m used to going without.”
Deb glared. “You used to be able to go without. Now you get migraines. Go home.”
“I’m not leaving you or the bakery unprotected. I’ll get my backpacking mattress and be fine.” He stomped away, again, and thudded down the stairs.
Deb watched him search his truck through the surveillance camera. After opening every door and box, he finally carried a roll of dirty foam inside. She met him at the exterior door, blocking it. “Go home. You can’t sleep on that.”
He pushed past her again. “I’ve slept on worse.”
“Recently? Go home.” Men were so stubborn, and Michael was at the extreme of the spectrum.
He turned. “Lock the door, alarm it and go upstairs. Sleep.”
“Go home.”
“No.”
Deb locked the door and followed him to the front. Neither of them would get any sleep if the standoff continued. “Look, you’re not going to sleep well on that, and I’m not going to sleep if you’re on that. So grab your sleeping bag and we’ll share the mattress.” He looked up, eyebrows raised. She frowned at him. “We’re adults, right? I’m not going to attack you while you’re sleeping.”
He glared. “I’m not worried about you.”
She grabbed his sleeping bag and turned away. Of course, he wasn’t worried about her; she wasn’t anything to him. “Then come on. We’ll both have a semi-comfortable mattress and get some sleep.”
He said something too soft for her to hear, then material swished. “Fine.”
She climbed the stairs, aware of his presence behind her, and headed straight to the bed. She rearranged her sheet and blanket, folding it in half and creating a makeshift bag with the crease in the middle. That way, even if she reached out in her sleep, she wouldn’t touch him.
He laid his bag on the other side of the mattress and pulled his phone. “I’m alarming everything. If you’re ready, get in. I’ll get the lights.”
“Sure.” Deb wasn’t too sure she was ready, but she’d made the offer. She plugged in her phone, pulled off her fleece jacket and knit cap, then slid under the blankets, shivering slightly when the cool sheets pressed against her skin. She curled into a ball with her back to him.
The other side of the mattress dipped, and she rolled to her back. She grabbed the edge of the mattress, pulling herself back on to her side and held on until Michael got himself settled. All that muscle probably weighed a lot, because his side of the bed was lower than hers, and her body wanted to roll. Eventually, she gave up, lying on her back so she wouldn’t move, and tried to ignore his breathing and warmth. She counted cupcakes and faded into sleep.
Chapter 7
