“Only if you’re okay with it.” In a rapid rush of words, he added, “If you’re not, no problem. Please know that I’d never take advantage of the situation or make you uncomfortable in any way. I’d like to keep you warm and preserve our fuel, but we can just run the engine longer than we’d planned instead, if you’d feel at all unsafe in my—”
“I wouldn’t feel unsafe.” Not because of him, anyway. Because of her own desires? Possibly. But they didn’t know how long they’d be stuck, so limiting their gas consumption was paramount. Also, he clearly intended to keep things innocent, and she’d lop off a limb before betraying her best friend. She’d already become uncomfortably cold. And since he was resisting his coat, the man had to keep warm somehow, so ... “Sure. We can cuddle.”
He sort of shook himself, as if awakening from a daze. “Really?”
“Yeah.” It’d be fine. Just a little harmless sharing of body heat, like Scouts lost in the wilderness. Assuming those Scoutswere huddling beneath an enormous tent shaped like a dick. “Once we’ve cleaned up, we’ll figure out the logistics. Where we can lie down most comfortably and still maintain some privacy. What to put beneath us for a bit of cushioning. Things like that.”
“Oh, I’m way ahead of you there,” he told her, and there was something in his tone ...
It was nothing. She was imagining things.
“Let’s do this,” she said, and they did.
Ten minutes later, both they and the leftovers were safely situated inside the back storage area. Once she’d consolidated the buttons and magnets, the food containers had fit in the drawers lining the walls. And if she and William plastered themselves against one another, they just barely fit on the carpeted center aisle.
It was the only good option, really, despite the greater chilliness back there. The seats inside the main area at the front of the Mincemobile didn’t recline much, and although the current visibility outside was virtually nil, that might change. She didn’t relish the thought of waking from a nap to randos peering in through the lightly tinted glass at the two of them entwined on the floor. The storage space had zero windows, as he’d pointed out, and that’d been enough to convince her.
Since they’d brushed their teeth using bottled water, they were both minty fresh. Which was good, given their extremely close proximity. At the moment, they were lying on their sides, face-to-face, arms wound around one another beneath their respective outerwear. Their legs were intertwined,their shoes abandoned in favor of an extra layer of thick socks. A cloth banner—“Season’s Meatings from Mrs. Claus’s Mincemeat Treats!”—was their inadequate mattress, along with a few sweaters from both suitcases. She’d unbuttoned her coat and unzipped her fleece to help share her bodily warmth more easily, and he’d opened his fleece, too, and draped his coat over her near-bare legs.
It wasn’t exactly memory foam and a down duvet, but it’d do for a single night.
His arms surrounded her firmly. He had one broad hand on her nape, tucking her chilly face into his throat, while the other hand spread across her lower back and hitched her even tighter against him. From this close, his every breath rocked her like an ocean wave, and apparently his bodywash had that same delicious herbal scent as his shampoo, because she could smell it everywhere now.
She didn’t think she’d ever felt so secure in her entire life. Or so horny.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t relaxed a single tense muscle since they’d lain down together. And to her surprise, a man who usually ran colder than she did was throwing off heat like the Mincemobile’s enormous engine.
Neither of them was sleeping. Speaking solely for herself, Nina was so wide-freaking-awake at the moment, she might as well have been hooked up to an IV drip of Red Bull.
He shifted restlessly against her, and for just a moment, she thought she felt—
Nah. A wallet, maybe. Something in his fleece’s pocket.
Then whatever it was disappeared as he shifted again.
“I—” When he cleared his throat, it vibrated against her lips, and she clamped them resolutely shut instead of doing what she wanted. Namely, opening her mouth and tastingthat sound on her tongue. “I think we should play Never Have I Ever. I’ve got a bag of M&M’S in my pocket, so—”
Sothatwas what she’d felt. Both disappointed and relieved, she let out a slow breath.
“—we can play with those. Start out with ten each.” His quiet voice sounded oddly ... determined. As if he were proposing a course of action that might end in disaster, but he intended to forge ahead anyway. “Whoever runs out first loses.”
“You hate Never Have I Ever.” When her confused eye-blink brushed her lashes against his neck, he twitched. “Claudia and I play it all the time, and you always refuse when we invite you.”
“I don’t hate it.” He seemed to struggle for the right words. “I just ... don’t trust Claudia not to make things ... awkward for me.”
Whatever that meant. Maybe he thought Claudia would cherry-pick questions that could veer into overtly sexual territory, when he was trying to stay discreet about their relationship?
Fine, then. If Nina wasn’t sleeping, they might as well play a game. “There’s a thousand percent chance the M&M’S will drop on the floor. Let’s just use our fingers instead.”
His already-tense body turned rock solid against hers.
“What’s wrong?” Pulling away a couple of inches, she tried to study his expression in the dark. “Did I say something? If you’re really committed to using M&M’S, we can certainly—”
“No, no,” he said hastily, his voice hoarse. “Fingers are ... fingers are fine.”
“All right, then, ten fingers up.” She cuddled close again and spread hers across his back, which was now so hot—eventhrough fabric—that he should’ve been steaming in the chilled air. “You go first.”
If he’d been paying attention when she and Claudia played, he’d know to choose statements spotlighting things he hadn’t done but that he strongly suspected she had.
