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“I should’ve known,” I forced a smile, because not even Trace’s sense of humor could make me feel better right now. Thunder growled ominously and I prayed we made it through this storm alive.
Trace drove at a snail’s pace as the windshield wipers worked overtime to clear the glass. The rain was coming down so fast that we could only see a few feet in front of us. I hoped the wind—that was currently trying to push the car into the wrong lane—would blow the storm passed …and quickly.
Trace pulled the car as far off the side of the road as he could manage without crashing into one of those wire fences they used to keep cattle back and turned the flashers on.
“This is g-g-good enough,” he shivered, his teeth clacking together. His hair was plastered to his head and water dripped off his chin. His clothes were soaked and if he didn’t change into something dry, he was going to get sick. Unfortunately, our clothes were in the trunk, and there was no way to get
to them without getting out of the car…which would lead to the dry clothes getting wet. “There’s enough gas to let the car run,” he muttered, turning up the heat.
I guess that counted for something.
I unbuckled the seatbelt and climbed into the back.
“Are you coming?” I asked him.
“Y-yeah,” his body trembled with another shiver. He cupped his hands over his mouth, blowing hot air against them. “I’m cold,” he said unnecessarily.
“I know you are, come here,” I patted the backseat.
His wet clothes made a squishing sound against the leather seats as he climbed in the back.
“You need to get out of your clothes,” I told him, already reaching for his plaid shirt and pushing it off his shoulders.
He grinned crookedly. “You l-l-love any excuse t-t-to get m-m-me out of m-m-my clothes,” his teeth chattered.
“Right now, I’m more concerned with getting you warm before you get sick.”
“Oooh, are you going t-t-to wear a n-n-nurse’s outfit and feed me by hand?” Despite the fact that he was shivering uncontrollably the man was still making jokes and there was a mischievous glimmer in his green eyes.
“Sorry,” I spread my arms wide, “no nurse’s outfit here.”
“D-d-darn,” he shivered, letting the plaid shirt drop to the floor.
I pulled his white t-shirt over his head and it fell to the floor as well. His jeans were the next to go.
When I curled my body around his, he stuck his thumb in the elastic of his boxers letting it snap against his skin. “A-a-are these s-s-staying o-o-on?”
I laughed weakly. “Yeah, they are.”
“A-a-and h-h-here I thought y-y-you had an u-u-ulterior m-m-motive for g-g-getting me n-n-naked.”
“You are…something else,” I muttered, laying atop his chest and wrapping my arms around his neck. Only Trace would make sexual advances while freezing to death.
“S-s-so I-I-I’ve b-b-been t-t-told.”
I pressed my face against his chest, hoping my body heat would help him get warm. It wasn’t working though. His body was so cold that I was becoming chilled.
Another loud clap of thunder had me letting out a squeal.
“I-I-It’s o-o-okay,” his large hand spread across my back, rubbing up and down in comfort.
I ruffled my fingers through his hair, trying to dry it.
“I-I-I’m f-f-fine.”
“No, you’re not. Stop trying to be Mr. Tough Guy and let me take care of you.”
“O-o-okay, b-b-bossy p-p-pants.”
