It wasn’t until the thermometer showed a number above ninety, confirming only mild hypothermia, that I finally felt like I could breathe.
“You’re okay,” I told him, tossing the thermometer on the table. “You’re going to be fine. We just need to keep warming you up slowly.”
“My feet hurt.”
“That’s a good thing. I don’t see any signs of frostbite, but everything is going to hurt like a bitch when you get feeling back. I’m going to grab you a hot drink and start some soup. Just close your eyes and rest.”
As I made my way to the kitchen, my phone rang. I hadn’t even noticed until then that there was no sign of Xander and Bennett.
“Thank fuck. Did you find him?” Xander asked in a rush.
“Yes, he’s going to be okay, no thanks to you,” I snapped. “Where the fuck were you?”
All I could think about was arriving back at the cabin with an injured Oz or, god forbid, not being able to find him and needing help before it was too late.
“It’s a long story. Lucky got pissed we took away his phone at dinner, so I lectured him about family time being important. It ended with the three of us powering our phones down for the rest of the night and we only just now turned them back on. I’m sorry, Jake. We’re on our way up the mountain right now, but it might take a while. The road is in terrible shape.”
I blew out a breath and felt my anger dissipate. “No. I’m the one who’s sorry. I was just scared. He’s fine. I checked him out and the hypothermia is mild with no frostbite. Turn around and go home. Be safe. The last thing I need is to be worrying about you guys getting stuck somewhere on the way up here.”
A pause.
“You sure? We’re happy to come. Could bring both of you back down to the lodge until the worst of the storm is over.”
“No, it’s too late. Just go back. We’ll call if anything changes. Keep the radio handy in case the phones stop working or something.”
“Will do. Take care of him, Jake. I don’t know what happened between the two of you here last night, but take care of each other, okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling my energy drain. “Of course.”
When I returned to Oz with a mug of hot chocolate, his eyes were closed, and Boo had jumped up to snuggle against his neck. The fire crackled and danced, throwing warm shadows across Oz’s pale skin. For the briefest of moments, I imagined we were together and this was a regular winter day where he was dozing by the fire and I was bringing him a warm drink before joining him on the sofa for a lazy afternoon. Maybe, just for today, I could let myself pretend.
“Oz, I need you to sit up a little so you can drink this,” I said quietly, sitting down next to his hip and reaching out to move Boo to my lap so Oz could straighten up without dumping her on the floor.
The tiny dog looked up at me and tilted her head before spinning in a circle and settling on my lap in a tight ball. I rested my hand on her to hold her still and noticed her sweater was damp. Oz opened his eyes and blinked at me.
“You okay?” he asked groggily. “How long was I asleep?”
I ran my fingers through his hair, dislodging the warm towel that had been covering his head.
“Just a few minutes,” I said quietly with a soft smile. “Can you sit up and drink a few sips of hot chocolate for me?”
Once I helped him straighten up and held the mug while he took a few sips, I asked him where he kept Boo’s extra sweaters.
“Top dresser drawer in my room. You need help?”
“No. Stay there,” I said. I picked up the dog and held her to my chest as I went in search of a dry sweater. The drawer they were in also happened to hold the sexiest fucking underwear I’d ever seen in my life. Just peeking into that drawer woke my dick up in a major way.
“Not looking at that,” I grumbled, rifling through the side with the tiny dog sweaters.
There were a million of them–all colorful and crazy. It seemed every holiday theme was well-represented, and there was even a collection of Pride-themed ones. When I saw the nice thick one that said Daddy’s Girl, I grabbed it and shut the drawer so I wouldn’t be tempted to revisit the other side.
I set Boo down on the bed and worked the damp sweater off of her before begging her to cooperate for the putting on of the dry one. She must have taken pity on me or been exhausted herself, because she only gave me the barest vibration of a growl.