Page 28 of Cole

Cole watched her, understanding her frustration but not willing to budge. "If I go, I go alone. You can tell me what to look for, what samples to collect⁠—"

"You don't know what you're looking for."

"Then you can tell me."

"It's not that simple." She turned to face him. "There are specific collection protocols. Proper documentation procedures. That’s the only way for it to hold up in court, anyway.”

“No.”

His one-word reply caused her shoulders to slump, and he hated to take away her enthusiasm.

Her chin lifted stubbornly. "It's my research. My discovery. I'm not letting you take all the risk while I hide here."

"You're not hiding. You're being smart."

"Nope. I go too."

They stared at each other, neither willing to back down. Cole felt a reluctant smile tugging at his lips despite his frustration. Stubborn woman. Beautiful, brilliant, and absolutely stubborn.

"Fine," he finally said. "But we do it my way. We plan it carefully. We go prepared. And at the first sign of trouble, we leave. Agreed?"

"Agreed. We'll need to be ready at first light tomorrow. That gives us time to plan, gather equipment, get some rest."

Cole nodded, already mentally running through logistics. "My team will keep researching Northern Summit tonight. By morning, we should know more about what we're dealing with."

The afternoon faded into evening as they worked through the details. Janice showed him her water-sampling equipment and explained the protocols for collecting and preserving evidence. Cole studied the satellite imagery, planning their approach route and identifying potential escape paths in case things went wrong.

By the time full dark fell, they'd eaten the sandwiches Janice had made. She cut small slices of pie, and he grinned. “Make it last longer?”

She smiled and nodded, and he was stunned at how glad he was to see the ease of her earlier fear. Knowing her attractiveness was the last thing he should be thinking about, he bundled up and stepped outside to check on the snowmobile and secure it under the overhanging shed for protection. The night was cold, and with more snow predicted, he hoped their decision to go out tomorrow wouldn’t backfire on them. He took a moment to call Logan with an update, then stood in the silence, listening to the forest settle around him.

Cole stood in the cold night air for a moment longer, dreading what came next. Janice had offered him the shower, warned him the hot water would only last about five minutes, and told him where to find towels.

He grabbed his duffel from the SUV and headed back inside. Janice was sitting in front of the wood stove, drying her hair. She'd changed into long, soft flannel pajamas covered in some pattern he couldn't quite make out in the firelight. Her blond hair hung loose and damp around her shoulders, catching the golden glow from the flames.

Cole's gut tightened. She was beautiful. Not in a polished, made-up way, but in a natural, unguarded way that hit him harder than he'd expected. This was her, comfortable in her own space and unaware of how the firelight played across her features.

"Shower's all yours," she called, looking up at him. "Towels are in the cabinet under the sink."

The bathroom was tiny. Cole had to turn sideways to get through the door, and once inside, there was barely room to turn around. The shower stall was clearly designed for someone Janice's size, not a six-three man who'd spent years in the gym.

He stripped down and stepped into the narrow space, his shoulders nearly touching both walls. The showerhead was positioned at about chest height on him, which meant he'd have to crouch to get his hair wet. He turned on the water and waited for it to warm, trying not to think about the fact that Janice had been standing in this exact spot a few minutes ago.

But it was impossible not to notice. Her shampoo sat on the small shelf. The vanilla scent reminded him of Christmas cookies. The bar of soap carried the same scent. The whole tiny space was filled with it, surrounding him in a way that made his gut tighten with an awareness he had no business feeling. Shaking his head to dislodge the unfamiliar thoughts, he considered staying in there long enough to let the water become ice cold to tamp down the heat that filled his blood.

Instead, he washed quickly and efficiently, the way he'd learned in the military. No wasted motion, no lingering. The water was already cooling by the time he rinsed the soap from his skin. He turned off the spray and dried himself with one of her towels.

When he emerged a few minutes later in a thermal shirt and sweatpants, his hair still damp, Janice was still sitting in front of the wood stove, her hair appearing almost dry. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

She glanced over and caught him staring. "What?"

"Nothing." He cleared his throat and moved over to the sofa. "I'll sleep on the sofa."

"You're too big for the sofa." She gestured to the small piece of furniture that barely accommodated his frame when he sat. "You'll be miserable."

"I've slept in worse places. I'll be fine."

"I'm smaller. If anyone's taking the sofa, it should be me." She moved to a plastic container stored under the bed and started pulling out blankets.