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“They’ll find us,” I said, more to fill the silence than anything else. “Probably within the hour. Bernadette’s not the type to wait around.”

“I know.”

“We just have to stay warm until then.”

“Won’t the wood be wet?”

“I picked the driest stuff I could find. I think it’ll work. It has to work.”

Damn. What if I couldn’t do it? Would we actually freeze? Honestly, I hadn’t considered it. I just assumed it would all work out. My whole life things worked out. Usually because I had people like Lucy to make sure they did.

But there wasn’t anyone to fix this. Just me. I had to take care of her.

17

LUCY

Iwatched him setting up the kindling. I knew absolutely nothing about starting a fire. I had a gas fireplace in my apartment. I pushed a button. But this was the real deal. I was sure there were risks to burning wood in an old stove in an older wooden structure but I was cold and Jeremy seemed competent.

The first match fizzled with no fire. I waited, hoping it actually worked. The kindling caught on the second try. I watched Jeremy’s face in the flickering light. He wasn’t smiling yet. I watched as he arranged the smaller sticks around the tiny flame. He blew gently, coaxing the fire to grow. I found myself holding my breath along with him.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Come on.”

The flame licked at the dry wood. He added more. Within minutes, he had a real fire going. Small but real. Heat began to radiate outward, pushing back against the cold that had settled into my bones.

“You did it,” I said, and I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice.

He looked up at me with a grin that was pure triumph. “Ye of little faith.”

“I had faith. I just… okay, I didn’t have that much faith.”

He laughed, adding a larger piece of wood to the growing flames. “Fair enough. I don’t exactly have a reputation for being handy.”

No, he didn’t. But watching him now, tending the fire and making sure it would last, I saw a different side of him. This wasn’t the Jeremy who couldn’t remember to charge his phone or who showed up late to everything. This was someone competent. Capable. Someone who saw a problem and handled it.

It was unexpectedly attractive. It wasn’t completely surprising. It was the most basic of our instincts. The man being all alpha and taking care of his woman.

Was I his woman?

No, but he was stepping into the alpha role and I wasn’t mad about it.

I pushed that thought away and moved closer to the stove, holding my hands out toward the warmth. The heat felt like heaven against my frozen fingers. I could have cried with relief.

“Better?” Jeremy asked, settling onto the floor beside me.

“So much better.”

Our shoulders pressed together. Our thighs touched through our layers of clothing.

I should have moved away and created some distance. But I was cold, and he was warm. The fire finally chased away the chill that had been threatening to consume me.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For all of this. The fire. Keeping me from completely losing it.”

“You didn’t lose it. You were scared, but you held it together.” He bumped his shoulder against mine. “You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for.”

“I don’t feel tough. I feel like I’m a pansy. I have the best winterwear money can buy. People survive with less out here every day.”

“You’re plenty tough.”