Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

For long moments, Brynn huddled in the corner of the couch staring at the large mound of clothing and ice that lay sprawled inside the door.

The pounding outside had frozen her in fear. Who was it? W hat was it? She had no idea what could be outside and she was alone in the middle of nowhere. No way was she opening that door.

But whoever it was had a different idea of how this was gonna go. She had no choice but to get onboard.

As was her nature, she quickly sprang into action. Throwing back the blanket she’d curled up with on the couch, she dropped her sock-clad feet to the floor. The house wasn’t overtly warm, but she was grateful the old heating system wasn’t so taxed by this huge storm that it wasn’t putting out heat. She’d pulled wood onto the back porch, but had yet to bring any inside. It was too dangerous to fall asleep with a fire going.

Cautiously she approached the person on the floor. “Hey,” she said, then cleared her throat. “Hey!”

Nothing. Holy hell. She’d thought she’d have a quiet night before getting down to work tomorrow. Nowhere in the plan was there space for visitors. Now what?

Gingerly she crossed to the other side of the mound, squeezing between him and the wall. “Hey, get up!”

Was he dead? The wind rushing through the opening told her it was a possibility. She pushed the door closed, the wind creating a lot more resistance than she expected. A layer of ice and snow had blown inside along with her visitor.

Okay, turn him over maybe?

Crouching down beside him, she grabbed a shoulder and pulled. The ice on his clothing stung her palms. Inch by inch she was able to push his shoulder up, then over the tipping point so he rolled onto his back. She found herself looking down on the face of a man out cold. His gator had pulled half off his face, exposing a short beard and mustache now encrusted with melting snow.

He was definitely out, and frozen.

As she grasped his hands, his wet gloves stung her fingers. Pulling one off exposed wet skin and fingers starting to turn purple. That wasn’t good.

She got off both gloves, tossing them onto the nearby wooden pew, then moved to his feet. Picking up each leg in turn, she dropped them against the floor to get the coating of ice off his boots before struggling to untangle the laces. Luckily his actual feet were mostly dry from the ankle down. But water had definitely snuck onto the ankle, soaking his heavy-duty socks, so she peeled those off too.

Getting him warm was top priority, but she could hardly carry a man—much less one half a foot taller than her. And where would she take him? She had an electric blanket on the bed, but that was upstairs. She hadn’t started a fire, because she’d been afraid she would fall asleep with it still going.

The shower?

Hot water should help with his temperature and getting his blood flowing, but could she get him there?

Pulling back, she hit him in the upper arm with her fist. Physical force should be justified considering the circumstances. It was just a tap, and it made no impact whatsoever. She tried again, a little harder this time.

This wasn’t working.

Maybe she could find his name from an ID? Quickly she started searching through his pockets, mostly encountering clumps of icy melt. Finally his front jean pocket yielded a leather wallet. Guy was certainly practical. A twenty-dollar bill, credit card, and license—Colby Shephard.

Shephard? Hadn’t there been a Shephard family a couple of farms down?

Oh yeah. Colby Shephard. The boy who was a couple of years older than her and had stood up for her when the school bully had pushed her down after getting off the bus.

He’d walked her home every day for the rest of the school year—until the day she’d disappeared.

Had he wondered where they’d gone? Had Maria given an excuse for their absence.

She glanced down at the man, trying to see the strawberry-blond boy she remembered in his masculine features. As she slid the card back in, she saw another behind it. Red and yellow. He was a member of the Thornbury Woods’ Fire and Rescue Team. She glanced down at him, unconscious on her floor. “You’re not doing so hot of a job at rescuing at the moment.”

Leaning over, she looked at the red skin of his cheekbones and frosty beard. On instinct, she cupped his cold face between her hands. “Please wake up,” she whispered.

His skin gained some temperature beneath her touch, but there were no signs of immediate response. She pressed a little harder, as if that would help get the heat in better.

After a moment, his thick brown lashes fluttered, then his eyes opened to reveal sleepy green eyes. “Hey, there, pretty lady,” he muttered, his words ever so slightly slurred.

Not a good sign. Definitely delusional. She had to get him warm right now.

“Come on, big boy, we’ve got to get you under some hot water.”

When he stared blankly up at her, she scooted over to the spot right above his head. Sliding her hands into the space between his large shoulders and the floor below, she pulled, urging him upright. He clumsily obeyed, tilting a little as he sat up. Brynn countered the pressure with her hands.

“Now on your feet, big boy.”

Who knew if he could manage that, but it was all she could think of. She moved around to the front and grabbed his elbows, careful to avoid the fingers, which looked even more purple. In the back of her mind an imaginary clocked ticked out the time, telling her she was running out.

He stared at her as she pulled. The little frown that tucked his brows together shouldn’t have been so intriguing. By instinct she reached out and pushed the wet toboggan from his head. The shock of ginger color that was revealed sent a thrill through her. Focus on the task at hand.

It took forever to get him to cooperate, but eventually he struggled to his feet. She marched him across the expanse of living room, then through the kitchen to the back part of the house. Her father had divided this area into two spaces with a laundry and mudroom on one side and—for the time—a considerably progressive bathroom on the other. The oversize space would come in handy now, thank goodness.

Maria had done some upgrading and added a narrow but deep bathtub that would have been perfect, but Brynn would never get this guy out of it once he sat down. Instead she reached into the separate shower stall and turned the hot water on full blast. Turning back, she saw him trying to sit down on a wooden pew that matched the one by the front door—a nod to the house’s origins.

“Oh no you don’t,” she said, rushing over to halt his move. “We’ve got to get you warm.”

He stared blankly at her, so she took matters into her own hands—literally. Moving behind him, she peeled the coat from his shoulders, littering the floor with melting ice. Back to the front, she gestured to his button-down flannel shirt. “Can you take this off?”

He seemed to be comprehending better, because his hands did go to the buttons, but his clumsy movements weren’t coordinated enough to actually accomplish anything. Finally, she unbuttoned the top couple herself, then pulled the shirt over his head like she would have a child. He at least retreated once his head was covered, because otherwise he would have been stuck that way. Same with the thermal undershirt, giving her a full-on view of a muscled landscape.

Lord, have mercy , he kept himself in shape.

“Come on, big boy. Work with me.”

She tried to ignore the firm muscles of his upper arms and chest, but focusing on those hazy green eyes also didn’t help her any. So she zeroed in on his lower half. The pants were some kind of material she hadn’t dealt with before, hopefully the kind that kept water out.

Was it considered inappropriate to take a stranger’s pants off? “You need to get in the shower. Can you take off your pants?”

He just blinked at her a few times, hands not even moving in the right direction.

Great. Not as much cooperation this time. How had she gotten into this situation? As she reached out for the button on the pants, she had to wonder why he’d chosen her house. Couldn’t he have moseyed on down the road until he came to the next one?

Pulling these down didn’t feel quite as bad, because he had a layer of thermals on underneath, but those had to go too. She averted her gaze to the ground as she skimmed them down to his bare skin, then knelt before him to work the two layers off his feet. She felt him rest his hands on her shoulders as she lifted each foot in turn with a little help from him. As she stood, her gaze traced over the mostly naked body in front of her.

“Holy shit,” she murmured under her breath. He had to have the most incredible male body she’d ever seen, not that she was looking...much.

Okay, gonna leave the boxer briefs on for modesty. Maybe he wouldn’t claim she’d been trying anything inappropriate if she did that? Taking his hand, she led him over to the shower. Steam billowed from the top of the door.

Reaching in, she adjusted the heat level down a little, not wanting to overdo it. “Get in, big boy,” she said, holding the door open so he could just step over the threshold.

He stood still for a long moment, looking first down at her by his side, then at the shower. “Come on,” she murmured. The last thing she wanted was to have to get behind him and push.

Suddenly he stepped up to the lip of the shower and reached out with his hand to feel the water for himself. As soon as it touched his flesh, he hissed, jerking back.

But almost immediately he reached back out. His big body shuddered as he held his hand under the water. She knew it had to be uncomfortable, but it was all she had to warm him up. “Go on in,” she urged.

Without warning, he hooked his hands into the waistband of his underwear and pulled. Brynn found herself watching the high, tight curve of his naked ass as he stepped fully into the stall.

Holy shit, indeed.

Then he turned to let the water cover his back, giving her an incredible silhouette of a grown-ass man with a full blown?—

With an instinctive push, she slammed the shower door shut. Definitely a big boy...