“Wait here.”
The slam of his truck door echoes in the night, and I peer out into the shadows, breath held. God, even my eyeballs feel like they’re freezing over, but I can’t blink. Because if that wolf from earlier finds Griff alone out there, slowed down and weakened by my stealing all the blankets, if he gets hurt because of me…
The driver’s door wrenches open again and I gust out a shaky sigh.
“Griff! Y-you’re okay.”
Even in the gloom, I see the look he gives me. Like maybe I’m going loopy as well as freezing over. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
The truck dips under his weight as he climbs back inside, tugging the door shut with a final gust of freezing mountain air. “I’m out of blankets, but I keep spare clothes back there,” he says, then drops a pile into his lap and holds up a balled pair of thick socks. “Give me your feet.”
Hell freaking yeah. I’m not too proud to wear this man’s socks. Pretending to be fine and waving off his help ended hours ago, back when my body remembered what sunshine and warm baths felt like. Now, in the depths of night, the cold is burrowing icy needles into my bones, and I’ll do anything to feel better. Anything.
“M-maybe you’re right. I’m not suited to mountain life.”
Wriggling one stiff leg up, turning and propping my ankle boot on Griff’s thighs, I wait for his crow of triumph. For him to sayI told you soand list all the reasons I’m an idiot for coming here, of which there are many.
Instead, Griff tugs down the zipper on my ankle boot. His fingers are steady, not shaking from the cold, even though I’ve stolen every warm layer in his truck. “You’d get used to it. You’d dress warmer, too. Doesn’t mean anything, Luna.”
I gape at the world’s biggest grump as he eases my boot off so gently. I only know he’s doing it because I’m watching with my own two eyes, and because his big, warm hand wraps around my ankle and holds me as he tugs. My foot, meanwhile, is numb.
“Can you get frostbite out here?”
Griff’s scowl deepens. He pulls a thick, woolen sock over my ice block of a foot, then chafes me between his palms.
I watch, fascinated. I’m not even scared anymore, not with Griff taking care of business. I’m just…
Okay, this doesn’t make me look good. And I’m not engineering this situation, I swear. If I had a magic wand, I woulddefinitelywish I was warm again, and that we were safe in Griff’s cabin for the night.
Or, um, Aiden’s cabin. Whatever.
Inside, safe and cozy. That’s all.
But since Idon’thave a magic wand, and we’re stuck here with each other and the moonlight and my chattering teeth, I have to admit, I’m kind of… enjoying myself.
Griff’s a real caretaker under all that grouchiness. His hands are achingly gentle as they carefully tug another layer over my limbs—first the socks, then a red flannel shirt drawn over my arms, and a pair of men’s jeans tugged up my legs. He even buttons me into everything, eyes fixed on his hands as he works, and before he sits back again, he swaddles me back up in my pile of blankets like a burrito.
“Feeling better, city girl?”
Okay, I’ve officially accepted that nickname. I clearly deserve it, and it beatsprincessanyhow.
“B-better,” I say.
It’s true, too. Even though I’m nowhere near toasty, the extra layers have chased the worst of my shivers away. I can even feel my toes again. Burrowing the tip of my nose into my blankets, I watch Griff over the top of them like an owl.
“I’m a giant pain in your ass.” My words are muffled by the fabric, but I know he hears them. There’s a flash of white teeth as Griff grins.
“You are,” he agrees. The truck seat creaks as he settles back again, getting comfy. “Don’t mind, though.”
“And you promise you don’t need any blankets?” God, I’d hate if he got cold after all this. What a shitty reward for being my noble knight dressed in plaid.
“I promise.”
“If I wake up in the morning and you’re frozen in a block of ice, I’ll be so mad, mister.”
There’s that grin again, racing across his rugged face so fast I nearly miss it. “Noted. Guess I’d better keep warm.”
Yeah. He’d better.