Ignoring his own clothing, Sam knelt and started working on her boot laces.
“You’re got the body mass of a hummingbird. We need to get you warm and dry before you shake apart.”
Tansy slipped off her jacket but couldn’t reach the hooks from where she stood with Sam at her feet. Her body started heating from the inside. Tansy closed her eyes and took in a deep breath to focus. “You’re soaking wet as well. I can do my stuff.”
Sam let out a huff of laughter. “Until you get distracted by the next shiny object. Or start wondering if you should start charting the initial effects of hypothermia. Lift your foot.”
Tansy pulled her mind away from the intriguing idea of recording the effects. It had probably been done a million times, but she hadn’t experienced it before and it would be interesting.
“Lift the other one, Tans.”
He was the only one who called her that. And she liked it more than she should.
Sam took her jacket and hung it up, then started working on his own boots. “Damn laces are a pain in the ass. Come on, Tans, get the wet stuff off. You know the drill.”
Tansy pulled off her hoodie, hung it up as well.
“Do you have showers running in this place?”
Sam yanked off his own t-shirt and hung it up, leaving his chest bare.
And Tansy’s mind went blank. Not something that happened a lot.
Her Sam was built like a warrior from days gone by. Muscles rippled with every movement. Tansy wished she had the skills of an artist because the man deserved to be immortalized in a painting.
Better yet, a sculpture. One that would put the famous David to shame.
“Tansy. You gotta move.”
When his hands touched the button on her jeans, she batted them away. He wasn’t touching her with desire. Or no more than the desire to keep her safe.
“I’ve got it. And I’ve been here for months.”
Sam chuckled. “That only means you’ve figured out a way to keep clean. It doesn’t mean that you’ve done something conventional like get a normal shower installed.”
Tansy shrugged because that was very true. But not accurate in this case. Her first priority had been checking plumbing. And the shower in the suite on the third floor was top-notch seventies-style. With room enough for two.
They shucked their jeans onto the floor and Tansy struggled to keep her eyes off Sam, but it was a losing battle.
Sam fully dressed, was a fantasy.
Sam dressed in only boxer briefs clinging to him, was enough to send her into heart failure.
Not literally. Not quite, anyway.
But her heart definitely danced through a few beats before she pulled her eyes away and turned to the stairs.
“Safety before modesty, Tans. Off it goes.”
With that, he yanked the t-shirt she’d been wearing off, even as she yelped a protest.
“Get warm first, yell at me later. Lead the way.”
Tansy was thankful her mom had drilled clean and decent underwear into her head from a young age.
She’d often wondered if it made a speck of difference to the paramedics and doctors who’d tried to save her parents after the stoned driver with a case of bad brakes had killed them.
Doubtful, but Tansy was glad she’d followed her mom’s advice today. The sports bra and panties might not be fancy, but they were clean, newish, and covered the essentials.