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“There’s also water and some extra-strength pain reliever.” The growl in his voice sends long, languid vibrations through me. Ones that don’t hurt my head.
I hadn't noticed before, but there is a mug and some pills on a plate on the table. And my phone. It’s plugged in, charging, but I snatch it up and hold it to me before I reach for the pills.
“Figured I’d charge that for you in case we lose power in the storm later.”
It makes me feel better to hold my phone, even though I know exactly how false that small feeling of security is.
I don’t bother checking for messages. I know there won’t be any.
“My pack?” My throat is scratchy, so I sip the water then feed the two pills into my mouth one at a time.
“It’s hanging by the door with your coat.”
My whole life is in that pack.
The man takes a step closer, but the bedside lamp’s light and the light from the fireplace don’t reach his features. I wonder if he’s trying not to scare me by staying back. Well, the opposite is happening, and I need to tell him.
“You know…” I’m still raspy, and I take another sip of water. “You hovering over there is freaking me out. I can’t even see your face.”
He takes a step back and reaches behind the doorway to flip on a light in the other room, which only makes it harder to see him. I’m about to tell him, but he steps closer, reaches to the other side of the recliner, and turns on another lamp. “I’m James,” he says.
He turns back to me, and I’m stunned. I don’t know what I expected in this mountain man who had clearly carried me however far, undressed me, and bound my injuries. Maybe flannel, a beer belly, and a lot of facial hair. It wasn’t this, this perfectly sculpted being...
His thermal clings to his body, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows showing an inky tribal pattern covering both thick forearms. My eyes drink in the bulging shoulders, defined chest, trim waist that leads to the sweats riding his hips like a lover. I blink fast, trying to wrap my head around it. My luck is never this good; he must be a freaking serial killer. I still want to run my hands under his shirt to see if his abs are as cut as the rest of him.
“What’s your name?” he asks softly.
My gaze jumps up to his face. Dark hair is finger-combed back from his face with a sprinkling of silver on the sides. His dark eyes seem curious not angry, and I can’t quite tell what color they are. There’s a small bit of dark stubble on a strong jawline that is relaxed, unclenched. His full mouth with its cupid bow is set into a slight smile. His skin is a toasty tan, and I wonder if he’s that yummy all over or if I’d find tan lines to trace with my fingers. My mouth is freaking watering.
“Do you remember?” he asks.
I clear my throat. “Remember what?” I take another sip of water.
“Your name?”
“Oh." I do have a head injury, so I guess he has to ask. "Of course. Lai.”
“There’s no need to lie about your name. I’m not a stalker.”
“No, L-A-I. For Lorelai.”
“Ah, Lorelai. That’s pretty.”
“Really, it’s just Lai.”
He nods. “Do you remember what happened?”
“Yeah, I slid down a bunch of rocks trying to climb to the road. More like I bounced to the bottom. Then I couldn’t get up.”
“There was a road there? When Rusty found you, the snow was too thick to see. Did you have car trouble?”
The dog looks up at his name and snuffs at James’s hand. “Aw, buddy,” James talks to the dog like there’s an understanding between them. “I’ll go look for some treats in a minute.”
“No car. I was riding with someone. He went to get help.”
“Well, he’s going to be snowed in the same as us. Are you hungry? I heated some soup.”
“I could eat. I don’t know how long I was out, but it feels like it's been a while since breakfast at the diner.”
