“Okay, I see.” Making the connection with a palm to my forehead. “You’d still be carrying us both. All right, well, carry on, then.”
He shifted me, and I tucked my face into his neck. He smelled so good, even with the added cold and wet smell. My whole body trembled uncontrollably. His features were twisted with worry, and I smiled in return, wrapping my arms around his neck and squeezing.
“I’ve got you,” he said simply.
And I believed him. I was completely safe with this man. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me, and it was as if the weight of the world melted off me.
Right after I’d fallen on top of Owen Campbell was the moment I fell hardforhim.
Chapter 15
Owen
If the snowwasn’t up to my knees, I would have fallen to earth to kiss the ground the moment I made it out of the tram and down that ladder. I had never been so damn happy to be stuck in a snowstorm. Anything was better than another moment swaying in the wind. As it turned out, having Bee knock me down and then straddle me was just as welcome.
Everything else felt manageable now, including caring for Bee, which was my priority. Holding her in my arms steadied me. I imagined this was how monks felt in deep meditation. Only her. Only the task at hand. She went so quiet. This scared me more than anything. She tucked her face into me. Her shivers were nonstop.
With every step, her body shook in mine. Over and over, my mind repeated a mantra.
One more step. One more step.
I didn’t even feel the cold or the weight of her or her thirty pounds of sugary snacks. Just focused on getting her to the cabin.
Any second, the light would have come into view. I was headed in the right direction. I had to be. It was dark. The scariest sort of dark imaginable. It was hard to keep my bearings and sense of direction as the wind messed with my equilibrium. Every footstep, every huff of breath, was the same, seeming to go nowhere. The treadmill steps of a bad dream. Bee burrowed tight into my chest, me trudging forward slowly but surely, the wind screaming in our ears, the darkness all around except the beam of my headlamp and the streaks of white through it.
We would not die out here.
“Well, that’s g-g-good,” she stuttered through a shiver.
I was distantly aware of the cold wetness seeping into my boots, up to my knees. Every step was careful. A quarter mile at this rate could take an hour. Would she survive? Would I drop her? Or worse.
If I could just see the cabin. If I could just know this had been the right choice to make.
“There!” she screamed in my ear. I jerked my head but saw the light at the same time. Thank every god that ever existed.
I fought the urge to run and risk an avoidable injury, like a car accident close to home.
“Thank you, Owen. Oh God, thank you, thank you,” Bee repeated over and over.
I wanted to tell her to stop thanking me that this was just as much my fault as it was Benny’s. I had the choice to leave her up there, and I hadn’t taken it. Even though the money motivator was not for me, it seemed like such a small thing now.
We made it to the door, and I set her down and punched in the code Azi provided us when I radioed him to let him know we were going for it. My hands were almost frozen without gloves, and I fumbled the numbers.
“Let me do it,” Bee said, shoving the gloves at me. “You should have been wearing these,” she grumbled as she got the door open and dragged me inside the threshold.
We stumbled through the door, pushing back to slam it shut against the wind that fought us tooth and nail every step. It wasn’t warm by any means, but with the sturdy insulation, it was already light-years better.
We both sagged against the wall and sighed. My ears rang without the roaring of the storm.
I had never been so happy to see a crappy sex hut in all my life.
Inside was a single-room cabin with a door leading to the restroom in the back—a glorified attached port-o-potty, from what I’d been told. The main room had a small kitchen table with two chairs next to a kitchenette area, a wood-burning stove with stacks of wood, and, of course, a large bed stacked with thick comforters smack dab in the middle. Some cheeky previous occupants even left battery votives all around to really set the ambiance. Other than that, it was a basic undecorated mountain cabin space.
We both dropped the multiple layers of foil blankets wrapped around us in a pile by the door. Bee shucked off her hat—myhat—and tossed it near where the fire would be before shaking off all the snow from her like a dog fresh out of a lake.
I followed suit, peeling off my soaking boots and heavy wet coat. Bee kept her snowsuit on. Thankfully, it was still mostly dry from the blankets.
“It’s beautiful,” Bee said, stepping forward to fall face-first onto the bed. “Holy crap, we’re alive.” Her voice was mumbled from the bed. She lifted her head, arms still at her side like a sea lion, and looked down with a grimace. “I hope whoever was here last changed the sheets.”
