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But Michael was right; dwelling on anything but the present and planning for the future was a waste of time. A shiver ran down her spine. Her future included sleeping on a small futon and huddling close to Michael under the single sleeping bag. If his dislike wasn’t so obvious, it could be comforting for both of them. But as it was, she’d have to worry about keeping her distance, both physically and mentally. She’d have to fight her attraction and let his grumpy disdain remind her he didn’t feel the same.
Deb wrapped the towel around her hair, and left the bathroom. With the wood stove crackling, the cabin was pleasantly warm; her hair should dry quickly. Probably into a frizzy halo, but she couldn’t do anything about that, either.
Without a word or a glance, Michael entered the bathroom, carrying his toiletry kit and some clothes. A big pill container sat on the table; only three of the days and four of the nights contained medication.
She draped her underwear across the back of a chair and moved it closer to the wood stove, then plopped down on the futon and gently worked the tiny travel brush through her hair. That pillbox gave them a deadline. Either Tom brought Michael’s prescriptions with him—hopefully, Nic was talking to Wiz and Tom—or they had to return to Marcus. Both options worried her.
No matter what, she had to reopen her bakery soon, or go broke, and she’d worked too hard to give it all up. She had to fight. The problem was, she wasn’t a warrior like Wiz or Erin. And she couldn’t rely on others forever. They had their own businesses to run, their own lives to live without the threat of violence. With his medical issues, Michael needed his comfortable bed, and access to all his medications. If he fell sick or got injured because he didn’t have those things, she wouldn’t be able to take care of him or protect him if the bad guys found them.
“Hey.” Michael stood in front of her, and put a fingertip under her chin. “Positive thoughts. We’ll figure this out.” He pulled away and drank a glass of water, his throat moving as he swallowed.
Throats shouldn’t be attractive, but Michael’s was. Deb flopped back against the hard, rather lumpy futon cushion. “While I appreciate your help, this really isn’t your problem. You have a business to run. You should go home tomorrow. I’ll be fine here. Tom can come get me in a couple of days.” Unlike fictional heroines who investigated and then got in trouble, she’d read and rest, staying quiet and unobtrusive. No one would notice her.
“Not going to happen, cupcake queen. You have no way to protect yourself.” Michael shook his head.
“Sure I do.” She scowled at him. “Just like a bunny, I’ll hunker down, and stay still.” She shrugged. “I’ll burn wood only at night, go to bed with the sunset, and get up when it rises. I’ll read and rest. No one will even know I’m here.”
He frowned fiercely. “You really do live in a fantasy land, don’t you? This is temporary. They’ll find us eventually. We have to be ready to move when that happens, and protect ourselves as we go.”
She raised her chin to prevent the hurt from showing in her wobbling lips and sniffed, trying to make it sound derisive. He’d made his disdain perfectly clear. “I’ll stay here for a couple of days, then Tom will come get me. I’ll go back to Wiz’s, and we’ll figure out a plan of attack. I can’t close my bakery forever and you can’t leave Nic to do everything, either.”
He plopped down at the other end of the futon, rubbing his forehead. “Look, can we talk about this in the morning? I need to take my meds and sleep.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a migraine.” Deb whispered and got up to turn off the remaining lights. Bright lights made migraines worse.
“You didn’t and it’s not a full-blown migraine, just a headache. I didn’t drink enough water today.” He smirked, but the expression seemed self-deprecating. “I’m making up for it, but I’ll apologize now. I’ll be up at least three times tonight. You should drink too, or you’ll get leg cramps.”
Deb chuckled. “Oh, I’ll get charley horses, it’s a guarantee. I’m not a hiker, I don’t work out, and I don’t do sports. I’m completely unsuited for all this.” She waved her right arm around, trying to indicate the mountain environment.
He captured her hand in his much larger palm, squeezed, and pressed her hand down on the futon, then removed his. “You’re doing fine. I know you’re not a survivalist or an outdoor enthusiast. If even part of what we did today sticks in your mind, we’ll be fine.” He gazed into her eyes. “But only if we stay together. I’m not leaving.” He got up and held both hands out, palm up. “Come on, let’s make this into a bed and get some sleep.”
She sighed, placed her fingers into his warm hands, and got up, wincing at the soreness in her legs, while enjoying the clasp of his strong, rough hands around hers.
“Go get some water.” He let go, and moved behind the futon.
Grumpy and bossy, too. She had to kill her attraction; she didn’t need a bossy guy in her life. She grabbed a glass and filled it, drinking deeply, then refilled it and put it on the card table so she could have some in the middle of the night without a lot of fuss.
Michael put his water bottle next to her glass, opened the pill box, and shook out a rather large number of pills. He swallowed them down, then turned back to the futon. “I’ve put the woobie—that’s a poncho liner to you civilians—on the bottom, and we’ll have to huddle together under the sleeping bag. Don’t be shy, just get in close so we can keep each other warm.” He shrugged. “Don’t overthink it, it’s simply survival.” He flipped back the sleeping bag; his sweatshirt and jacket had been rolled into pillows. “You’re on the side farthest from the door.”
Of course it wasn’t anything but survival. Like usual, she was nothing but a burden. The extra girl nobody wanted. But despite that, she’d be just fine. She’d taken care of herself all these years, and looked out for her sister and nieces, too. Sharing a tiny bed with Michael was nothing in comparison.
Deb rounded the futon and sat, then laid down on her side, turning away from Michael. She shimmied to the far side, giving him the majority of the room. His massive shoulders needed the space.
The futon sagged and bounced. Michael’s sigh warmed the top of her head. “I’m not going to bite and you’ll need the warmth.” He wrapped his powerful arm around her waist and pulled her into the curve of his body.
She stiffened. While his warmth appealed, cuddling with someone who disliked her so much didn’t.
“Relax. Go to sleep.” Michael slid his other arm under her neck, and curled his legs behind hers. “Count sheep. If you don’t sleep, I won’t and I need it.”
“Fine.” Deb closed her eyes, and concentrated on the warmth radiating from Michael, rather than the comfort of his embrace. She deliberately blanked her mind, thinking about heated, weighted blankets, and counted the cupcakes drying into inedible lumps on her cooling racks in the bakery.
But what let her fade into sleep was knowing Michael would keep her safe, no matter how he really felt about her.
Chapter 11
Michael woke to moonlit night, warmth wrapped around the middle of his back like a snug sweater, easing the pain of overworked muscles. But thinking about Deb in tight, fuzzy knits was a big mistake. Regardless, he closed his eyes and enjoyed Deb’s softness tucked in tight against him for a few more seconds before his bladder made it impossible. He slid out, tucked the sleeping bag around her, grabbed his weapon off the floor and trod softly to the back. Goosebumps formed; the cabin had chilled in the night.
After going to the bathroom, he peered out all the windows, the three-quarters moon bright enough to show nothing moved. Time to brave the bed again.
