“Ya,” she muttered, “I used to work at a sporting goods store.”She sighed heavily.“But this camping, it’s so loud out there.Not city loud, like cars and sirens, but weirdly loud.”
“How can I help?”He really had no idea how to make her feel better.The night noises didn’t bother him.He lived on an acreage outside of Calgary, and his bedroom had French doors to his enormous yard, and he kept them open all summer.Night sounds were normal to him.
“Could you…” she grunted.“Never mind.”
“Wanda,” he said warningly.“How can I help?”
“Could you…” another sigh, “could you, maybe, hold my hand.Just until I fall asleep.”She blurted out the last bit.
The request shocked him.He had no idea how that would help.But if it meant she’d feel better, and he’d get some sleep…
“Sure.Scoot closer and turn your sleeping bag zipper to this side.”They shifted so their bags were touching on the zipper sides.“Now, stay covered up so you’re warm, and give me your hand.”
They lay facing each other, both of his hands cradling one of hers.“Get some sleep, Wanda.I’ll keep you safe.”
She squeezed his hands in response, and in almost no time, her breathing evened out, and she stilled in sleep.
His heart stuttered.When had he ever soothed someone like that?He never would have guessed that it was even possible.The pure beauty and peace of the moment washed over him and lulled him into much needed sleep.
Chapter Seven
Wandawoketothechirping of birds.It was barely light.It must be super-early.Emma would call it the butt-crack of dawn.Really early, but the chill of the night had slipped away to the warmth of the morning.It was more than warm.It was hot.Too hot to sleep comfortably.She opened her eyes and came face to face with Eric’s chest.
Holy snorkers!She was practically in his sleeping bag.
She eased back, careful not to wake him.Heat filled her cheeks.Sure, she’d been afraid last night and asked to share his side of the tent and have him hold her hands.Sweet blooming daisies, what had she done that?Logically, both were okay, but practically climbing inside his sleeping bag in her sleep.Holy tulip bulbs!
“This is so not good,” she whispered to herself.
“What’s not good?”Eric asked sleepily.
“Yikes.”She jerked further away and clutched her pounding heart.She sat up and glared down at him.“Don’t do that!You scared the ever-loving dickens out of me.”
He pulled his arm from beneath the covers and looked at his watch.“Wanda,” he sighed, “it’s four-fifteen in the morning.What does a guy have to do to get some sleep in this tent?”
“I’m sorry.”Embarrassed, she slid into her sleeping bag and turned her back to him.“I’ll go back to sleep.Sorry, I woke you.G’night.”
“Good night, wiggle worm.”
She squished her eyes shut and prayed for sleep.Too bad she was so much colder way over here by herself.
He shifted once and lay still.How could he relax that easily?Her heart was pounding, and his delicious scent lingered in her nose.This was not good.
Resolutely, she decided that if he could fall asleep, she could too.She focused on slowing her breathing and relaxing herself from the toes up.
Feminine laughter woke Wanda from a deep, delicious dream about coffee and cinnamon buns.
“Ugh,” she whispered, not wanting to disturb Eric.
“Rise and shine, princess sleepyhead.It’s time for coffee.”
She rolled over without opening her eyes.“Only if you brought me coffee,” she growled.Last night had been way too long for her liking.She could use another three hours of sleep.
“Actually, I did bring you coffee.I’m not sure how you like it, so I added cream and sugar.”
She bolted into a sitting position and thrust out her hands.“Gimme.”
He held up two recyclable cups and tsked.“Not unless you say please.”
