The world would’ve been a dimmer place without her in it.
Never knowing her seemed impossible now. He felt as if he’d known her for years. He would’ve definitely missed out if she hadn’t stumbled into his life.
Eventually, Chappy was able to turn his attention back to his book. It was a spy thriller, and he still had no idea who the bad guy was, for which he gave major props to the author. He was usually able to figure that kind of thing out fairly early in a story. But not this time.
He didn’t know how many hours had passed by the time he’d finished the book, but when he looked over at Carlise, he saw her head was resting on the cushion behind her, and she was fast asleep. Her fingers were still resting on the keyboard, and he wondered how many times she’d conked out in the middle of working in the past.
Moving slowly so as not to wake her, Chappy stood. He put another couple of logs on the fire, then gently pulled the laptop out of Carlise’s grip, touching the mouse pad to bring up the document she was working on. Thankful she didn’t have it password protected, he hit save, just in case, and closed the computer before placing it on the small kitchen table.
Then, without a second thought, he leaned over and put his arms under Carlise’s legs and around her back. He lifted her easily and carried her toward the bed.
This moment had been in the back of his mind all night. Their sleeping arrangements. He wanted her in his bed. Wanted to be in it with her. They’d slept curled together when he’d been sick, but his gut said she’d feel awkward about doing so now, when he was no longer out of his skull with fever. If he were a gentleman, he’d put her in his bed, then go sleep on the couch.
But he didn’t want to do that.
“Riggs?” she mumbled into his chest. Her arm had curled around his neck as he’d carried her the short distance, and he held his breath as he eased her onto the mattress.
“Yeah?” he asked quietly.
“I’m cold.”
The blankets she’d been buried under had fallen off when he’d picked her up, and Chappy quickly got her legs under the blankets on the bed and pulled them over her.
“Better?” he asked.
“Ummmmm.” She was obviously still mostly asleep.
Chappy stared down at Carlise for a long moment, internally arguing with himself. He should turn and go back to the couch. Sleep there. It would be presumptuous to do otherwise, and she’d probably freak out if she woke up in his arms.
But his feet wouldn’t move. He felt rooted to the spot. Indecision tore at him. Stay or go?
When she shivered under the covers, his decision was made.
Earlier, Chappy had pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, and while he usually slept in nothing more than a pair of boxers, he lifted the comforter and lay down on the mattress fully clothed without hesitation.
Carlise was cold, and she’d be warmer with him next to her. But with his clothes on, he’d hopefully avoid making her uncomfortable in the morning. Skin on skin would be more effective in keeping them both warm, but he wasn’t willing to do anything to make her think he was taking advantage. Keeping his clothes on wasn’t a difficult choice.
The second he curled himself around her, a memory flashed through his head of lying with her just like this, his bare legs entangled with hers. Of slipping his hand under her shirt and resting it on her soft skin.
To Chappy’s surprise, his cock twitched.
He forced himself to think about something else. About going out in the cold to start the generator in the morning. Shoveling snow. Calling JJ eventually and asking him to come up to help him with Carlise’s car.
The thought of her driving away instantly killed any lust he felt.
With every minute he spent in her presence, he wanted ten times more. That sort of attachment didn’t happen to him. Usually, people annoyed him. Quickly. Even his friends sometimes. He liked being by himself. Was a natural introvert. But he was extremely comfortable with Carlise.
She mumbled something, then turned in his arms, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Her nose was chilly, and she wiggled against him, pushing both hands under his shirt to rest on the bare skin of his chest.
Chappy smiled, even as he sucked in a breath at her cold fingers against his skin.
“You’re warm,” she mumbled sleepily.
“Shhh,” he replied, resting his chin on top of her head.
One of her legs pushed between his, so she was now snuggled against him as tightly as she could get.
Chappy had never felt more relaxed. They were both fully dressed, but the moment still felt intimate. Carlise wiggled against him a bit longer, then finally sighed in what he had to believe was contentment.
For a moment, he still worried about what the morning would bring. Wondered if she’d be angry that they were in bed together. If they’d still be as intertwined as they were now. If she’d be scared of him because he’d very clearly chosen to sleep next to her.
But the longer he lay with Carlise in his arms, the more his worry faded away. He’d deal with her reaction in the morning. He’d convince her there was nothing wrong with what they were doing. They were merely sharing body heat. The cabin got chilly at night as the fire died down. It was the logical thing to do.
And she was safe with him. Completely, one hundred percent safe. He’d never hurt her. Would hunt down anyone who tried.
Chappy was perfectly comfortable with the direction his thoughts had taken. This woman was his. He knew it instinctively. Felt it in his bones. She’d been led straight to his door for a reason. And he wasn’t going to let her go without a fight.
Luckily, he had a bit more time to convince her he wasn’t insane, and that they belonged together. He had no idea how he was going to do so, but he’d figure it out. He had to. In his mind, there was no alternative.
Chapter Eight
Carlise woke up the next morning with sunlight shining in her eyes. She frowned and blinked in surprise. She hadn’t seen the sun in days.
“Sorry,” Riggs’s deep voice said, and she felt movement before the light dimmed behind her lids.
She opened her eyes and realized Riggs was lying next to her—right next to her—and hovering, blocking the rays of the sun with his head.
She tensed and tried to read what he was thinking and feeling by looking into his eyes . . . with no luck.
“Sleep okay?”
She nodded.
“You weren’t cold?”
Carlise shook her head.
“You’re sleepy in the morning.”
She shrugged. “Without coffee, it takes me longer to wake up.”
“I’m going to go out and start the generator in a moment. I’ll get the coffee maker out and fire it up.”
“You have a coffee maker?” she asked incredulously.
“Yup.”
Carlise closed her eyes in ecstasy. “Be still, my heart,” she joked.
When Riggs laughed, she felt it in her torso. Which brought her back to their current positions. She was on her side, one of her legs between his, and her hand was under his T-shirt, resting against his chest. The other was clutching his forearm. She was holding on as if she never wanted to let go . . . and she realized she didn’t.
“Um . . . we slept together.” She winced as soon as the words left her mouth.
But Riggs didn’t seem fazed in the least. “Yup. You fell asleep working, and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up. I could’ve slept on the couch . . . but honestly? I didn’t want to. I wanted to be here. Next to you. I vaguely remember that we slept this way when I was sick, and I have to say, it’s much better now that I’m not out of my head with a fever.” He studied her for a moment, then added, “I’m not sorry, Carlise . . . but I don’t want you to worry or freak out about it. Are you okay?”
Was she okay with this gorgeous man wanting to sleep by her side all night? Um . . . hell yes! But she kept her excitement to herself and simply said, “Yes.”