In the narrow bed in Linc’s house, Eva decided that this pioneer-living was for shit.
The bed had flannel sheets and a fluffy down comforter, and she was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, but it wasn’t enough to combat the chill of the air that made the tip of her nose feel like an ice cube.
It seemed the choices were to sit up all night in a chair in front of the roaring fire downstairs or nearly freeze in the bed upstairs.
Yes, there were big floor grates that allowed the hot air from below to seep into the bedrooms above, but for someone used to the toasty warmth from the big cast iron radiators in the apartment above Rosie’s, the bit of warm air that found its way up through the grate wasn’t going to cut it.
She pulled the sheets and comforter higher so they covered the entire lower half of her face. No way she’d be able to fall to sleep with her nose so cold. Not that she’d be able to sleep anyway. It was too weird having a sleepover at Linc’s house…while wearing his clothes.
Her friends were never going to let her hear the end of this. She’d have to swear Linc to secrecy, which brought up a good question—could she trust him to keep her secrets?
Trust didn’t come easily to her. Trusting a Wilder was even more difficult.
She was just considering what she could hold over his head as collateral to blackmail him into keeping quiet when she heard the shout.
Sitting up, she tossed the covers off. Her feet, in Linc’s big fluffy socks, hit the wool area rug as she stood, listening.
Another yell had her running for the bedroom’s door that she’d left open, against her better judgement, in an attempt to let in more warm air from downstairs.
The shouts had to have come from Linc in the next room. But what could be wrong? A fire? An intruder?
She skidded out into the hallway, slipping as the wool socks hit the wood floor. She had to grab the doorframe of his room to stay upright as she pivoted to enter the bedroom of the man who still felt like too much of a stranger for her to be here now like this.
God, she hoped he didn’t sleep in the nude. Hopefully the current lack of heat meant he was as bundled up as she was.
Wishing she’d brought the flashlight with her, she crossed the room in near darkness and approached the bed where he thrashed beneath the covers.
“Linc,” she said softly. When that didn’t work, she tried louder. “Linc. Wake up.”
He was deep in the dream—or nightmare judging by the mumbling and tossing. He was a soldier. He could be reliving any number of real-life nightmares he’d experienced over there.
Waking him seemed like a risky endeavor but the right thing to do. He was clearly in distress.
Reaching out, she put a hand on his shoulder and jostled him. “Linc—“
Her words were cut off when he captured her wrist in a vise-like grip and twisted, making her skin burn and forcing her onto the bed where she found him above her, pinning her down.
Was he still asleep? Still inside the nightmare? And what was he going to do to her if she’d become a part of it?
He could probably kill her with his bare hands. After feeling his iron grip, she had no doubt he could squeeze the life out of her. Strangle her. Break her neck.
She had to wake him.
“Linc! It’s me. Eva.”
Her voice seemed to knock him out of the trance he’d been under.
“Fuck.” He moved off her immediately, sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees as he buried his head in his hands.
He wasn’t in as many clothes as she would have liked, considering he’d just been sitting on top of her, but at least he was wearing boxer shorts and a T-shirt. He was covered enough she didn’t feel too weird as she sat up next to him on the bed.
She had to say something. Like it or not, they’d just been through something together. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I heard you from my room. I thought it would be better to wake you. But maybe I should have left you alone?”
He raised his head to glance at her in the dim room lit only by the jar candle he’d left burning on the small table in the hall and the flickering on the hall walls from the fireplace below. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Want to talk?” she asked.
Poppy would have been far better in this situation. Eva could have handed Linc and his trauma over to her and exited happily, knowing he’d be taken care of and she could stay out of it. But Poppy wasn’t here. Thanks to this damn storm, Eva was it. All Linc had for comfort at the moment.
“Why? Do you wanna listen?” he asked, with a small laugh.
She shrugged. “Since there’s still no WiFi, there’s nothing else to do, so...”
He shook his head. “I’m fine. Sorry I scared you. Let’s go downstairs. It’s cold up here and the fire probably needs more wood by now.”
“All right,” she agreed, standing when he did.
That was when she realized that Linc Wilder, wearing nothing but boxer shorts and a T-shirt, was not nearly covered up enough.
From his thick thighs to bulging biceps to well-defined pecs that probably surpassed the size of her A-cup breasts, he was too naked for her to be able to hang out with him. Not here in the bedroom. Not even down there by the fire.
“I’ll, uh, leave you alone to get dressed and meet you downstairs.” Hopefully, he’d take her hint and put on some more clothes.
She was sitting in the chair warming her hands by the fire when Linc trotted down the stairs a minute later. He’d pulled on red plaid flannel pajama bottoms and suede slippers, but his biceps still bulged from beneath the short sleeves of the tight white T-shirt.
“Aren’t you cold in just that shirt?” she asked, more concerned that the sight of his muscles was making her feel warm in places not exposed to the heat of the fire.
“I’m good,” he said, bending to grab another log from the pile and toss it onto the flames. “I’ll probably stay down here for the rest of the night. Keep an eye on the fire.”
She had to wonder if that was really the reason, or if he didn’t want to go back to bed for fear of more nightmares.
“Okay.” She nodded watching him grab the throw folded over the back of the sofa and carry it to the chair nearest the fireplace.
Sitting, he spread the throw over his lap, leaned back and the leather wing chair turned into a recliner.
“Wait. What?” Her eyes widened. “What magic is this?”
He grinned wide enough a dimple that rarely showed itself appeared. “Cool, right? I found them online. That one does it too.”
“You mean I could have been reclining all day and you just decide to reveal this now? Way to bury the lead, dude.” She smiled in return, happy for the light conversation. Maybe it would help him forget the dream.
“Sorry. You didn’t ask.” He shrugged.
Grabbing the other throw from the sofa, she sat and copied Linc’s action, pushing back. The chair yielded, just as his had, until her feet were thrust out toward the fire and her head back. “Well, I can tell you I won’t make that mistake again. From now on, every new chair I sit in, I’m going to ask the owner if it reclines.”
That got her a small smile from Linc and then it wasn’t just the fire that warmed her.