Jamie snuffled, burrowing her head further into the pillow until a muffled oomph sounded. The pillow twitched under her cheek startling her awake.
"Sorry," she mumbled, remembering she'd fallen asleep on Blue Eye's chest, and pushed back from the warmth and comfort offered by his body. His arm that was wrapped around her back kept her from moving more than a few inches as he looked down at his chest and swiped at a small wet patch.
"I'm not the only one that snores," he said, cocking his head to get a better look at her. Jamie tried to turn and roll away but he was too strong for her and brought her back against his side. "What's the rush?" he asked, sounding sincere. "That's best sleep I've had in months." Jamie smiled contentedly and began to relax again. "And from the sounds you were making, it was good for you too, even with the bath," he added with a mischievous wink.
She sat up with an exasperated groan. Tossing the covers back she wrapped her arms around herself as the chilled air hit her. "Damn it." She rose shakily to her feet, still slightly disoriented from sleep and clamped her teeth together as her feet touched the icy floor. She'd let the stove go out, and that's where her thought processes stopped as she found herself staring down at a pair of boxers sporting an impressive bulge. After a brief pause, sense returned. Averting her eyes, she bent to throw the covers back over him and busied herself with rebuilding the fire in the stove.
Greg chuckled at her embarrassment. "Didn't believe me when I said I'd slept well?"
Jamie shook her head and continued laying small sticks over the charred embers left in the stove and coaxed the fire back to life. "A demonstration wasn't necessary."
"You pulled the covers off of me; maybe you're not as innocent as you'd like me to believe?" Keeping her back to him, she continued feeding the flame and added a larger piece of wood. Greg sighed, raising his arms and interlocking his fingers to rest behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. "Fine, blame my gender and centuries of biological programming. Still," he mused aloud, "it was nice having you lay beside me."
Jamie laid a couple more pieces of wood on the fire and left the door half-open to allow more air to circulate between the wood for faster burning. She couldn't help smiling at his latest declaration. She brushed her hands off and turned slowly to face him, trying to get her thoughts in order. Aside from Mike, she couldn't remember being the focus of anyone's attentions in a long while. On one hand it was flattering, but on the other, where reality seemed to be adding extra weight to the argument, being the object of a stranger's attention was a little scary.
"I'm not used to—" she flapped a hand as if warding off flies while trying to find the right word and, when one didn't present itself, finished awkwardly with, "this."
"This?" Greg asked in an amused tone, one side of his lip curling upwards.
"You don't even know me," she blurted out while stepping past him, her bare feet slapping against the cold floor. "I don't know anything about you. Who you are, where you come from, what you like, dislike." She paused in the middle of her wild arm waving rant and placed her hands on her hips. "I take that back, you don't like the Eagles," she said sounding defeated and faced him again.
Watching confusion, frustration and a mingling of curiosity play across her features, Blue Eyes grinned. His eyes took all of her in from her bare feet to her tousled hair before his gaze shifted back to the ceiling. "I don't remember saying I didn't like the Eagles, I'd just prefer listening to something else." Jamie opened her mouth to respond, then closed both her mouth and eyes as she wrapped her arms around her midsection, turning back towards the kitchen.
"I must be getting cabin fever; usually I'm not this irritable in the morning," she admitted, beginning to pull out a few items from the kitchen cupboards.
"The frumpy look fits with your mood," he replied, shifting uneasily under her sudden glare. "By frumpy I meant cute," he added hastily, offering an apologetic grin. Jamie ran a hand through her hair.
"Cute," she repeated, as if testing the word, letting it roll around in her mouth as her face scrunched. "Kittens and puppies are cute," she shot back. Greg nodded in agreement.
"Polar Bears too. And you, when you get all flustered."
Jamie stared at him for a moment. "I'm hungry," she announced and shoved a pan under the faucet.
"No wonder people ignore the do not feed the animals signs, wild animals aren't nearly so warm and fuzzy when they first wake up." Blue Eyes began humming Elvis Presley's Teddy Bear, exchanging his own version of the words. "Oh won't you be my, Teddy Bear."
Jamie felt her face flush and let the pan drop onto the counter not caring that water slopped over the sides. "Are you flirting with me?" she asked, stretching out the word flirting. Their gazes locked for a few long moments, and she was sure he could read everything she was thinking.
He shrugged and resumed his inspection of the ceiling. "You interest me," he said at last, not bothering to see her reaction.
Jamie stood dumbfounded. Interesting? Where had that come from? She watched him a little longer before picking up where she'd left off in the kitchen.
+++house_md+++house_md+++
An hour later, Greg was sitting propped up against the bed frame with several pillows supporting him and watching Jamie carry buckets full of warm water into the bathroom. Upon his comment that she was wasting her time, there was no way the water would ever stay warm enough, she'd flipped him off with a single digit raised in annoyance and seemed even more resolute about her actions. With nothing better to do he simply leaned back and enjoyed the view while she marched back and forth between the stove and the bathroom.
Satisfied with the amount of water she'd hauled into the bathroom, she finished up by pouring the contents of the pan that had been simmering into a large porcelain bowl and handed it to Blue Eyes.
"What the hell is this?" Blue Eyes asked while dipping the spoon into the thick mound of grayish sludge mostly hidden under milk that was quickly turning the same off color. He pulled the spoon out with a satisfying slurp that halted Jamie in her return trek to the kitchen. She whirled, cheeks flushed and indignation radiating from her, and stared slack-jawed as Greg upended his spoon, watching intently as the gray goop splashed back into the bowl.
"Oatmeal," she said with more than a touch of anger. "If you don't want it, set it aside and I'm sure Indy will clean the bowl for you." Her last words were cut off by the slam of a door and Greg looked over in surprise. Jamie had disappeared from the room.
He stared at the closed door as if waiting for it to reopen, and instead heard faint humming followed by the splash of water, and resumed his inspection of the bowl's contents. Glancing across the way to where Indy patiently watched him, he brought the hot cereal close enough to take a quick sniff and tentatively ate a spoonful of oatmeal. Then another. And another. He broke the rhythm of spoon-to-mouth just long enough to address Indy. "Sorry, Rover, maple and brown sugar like Oma used to make," he said, licking his lips in a satisfied manner and then savored each bite like a kid enjoying an ice cream sundae. He scraped the bowl clean, turning the spoon over in his mouth with the last bite as he ran his tongue along the curve to catch the last remnants. He let out a satisfied belch.
Jamie lowered herself into the tub as best as she could with one arm, awkwardly falling sideways in an attempt to protect her shoulder, and ended up sitting down hard as water splashed over the side. Nothing to do about it now, she thought sliding her body the rest of the way into the warmth and laying back with a sigh. The water buoyed not only her body, allowing sore muscles to relax, but her spirit as well. Alone in her own little world for the first time in days, she changed the tune she'd been humming to a lullaby.
The tub was a creation she had designed, and with Mike's help had built and improved on her initial plan. They had taken a clawfoot tub and encased it in multiple layers of material designed to hold heat in and built a wooden case around that. They'd also added a cover that allowed only one third of the water to be exposed and used thermal tiles on the underside to reflect the heat back into the water. It still cooled faster than a normal tub, but allowed a person to soak for a good twenty minutes or so before cooling too much.
The scent of lavender filled the small room, transporting her to a sunny meadow where she lay on the grass soaking up the sun's rays and enjoying a soft rustling breeze, far away from cold and snow. She dozed lightly, hands drifting back and forth in the water, moving as languidly as the tune she created.
"Ni-ice," a voice drawled above her. Jamie opened her eyes in fright. Greg was the last person she'd imagined she'd find standing over her, and the shock of him interrupting her peaceful moment turned from surprise to anger in the span of a heartbeat. She sank lower into the tub in an instinctive move to hide her nakedness, but sucked in a breath at the wrong moment.
She sat up suddenly, arms waving as she spluttered and coughed, trying to rid her lungs of water, cover herself, and shout at him all at the same time. Greg hobbled a prudent step backwards to keep out of arms reach, his figure a silhouette in the light from the doorway. The two candles nearest the tub flickered in the stirring air around them, another snuffing out with a sizzle as water doused the flame.
Now Greg was next to the tub, slapping her upper back with the flat of his hand as she struggled for air. "Breathe out hard," he ordered, placing his other hand on her damp, exposed left arm to help steady her. Her hands gripped the edges of the tub as she struggled to regain her breath, aware that she was shaking from a combination of anger, fright, and cold air coming in from the other room.
"Wha-" she managed to squawk, her throat constricting on the word. Twisting away from him, she immediately covered her chest with her arms and glared at him in the semi-darkness. His hands were raised in mock surrender and he tilted his head towards the toilet.
"I needed the facilities," he offered lamely and sat down heavily on the lid with a groan, keeping his eyes averted.
"You couldn't have waited?" Her voice came out as a harsh whisper, aware the room was brighter since he no longer blocked the doorway. She tightened her arms and pulled her knees closer to her chest as the room seemed to shrink inwardly and her private sunny meadow refuge instead became a claustrophobic closet.
He covered his ribs with his right arm and shot a quick glance towards her. "Look, could we dispense with the whole glaring thing?"
"I glare when I'm not happy."
Greg nodded as if that explained everything. "You looked rather—" He cleared his throat at her darkening features and changed the subject with a nod of his head towards the tub. "Nice setup, which would explain why the water stays warm. Your design?" He made it sound like a compliment and she relaxed a little, nodding her head once while still regarding him with wary eyes. He licked his lips seeming at a sudden loss, and let his eyes flick towards her again. "I don't suppose it would be warm enough for another bath?" he asked hesitantly.
Jamie's gaze dropped to his ankle and the thick wrapping covering it. "We'll need to rewrap your ankle," she said at last and held out an open hand. "Hand me a towel."
Greg lifted the oversized towel off the counter and handed it to her wordlessly. With a quick motion of her hands he offered a slight smile and obligingly turned his head away. "I didn't mean to startle you," he began in way of apology as she stood and hurriedly wrapped the towel around herself, shivering more as the air quickly cooled the water on her body. "You seemed to be gone an awfully long time, and I was—" Her mind filled in the blank with concerned or worried and her anger began to soften. But then he finished his statement. "—curious." She threw a handful of water at him that made him flinch.
"Nice to know you care," she said, the sarcasm in her voice covering the slight hurt from his statement.
She was aware he was trying to catch another glimpse of her from the corner of his eye and despite her still flaring anger with him, felt flattered by his attentions. Then again, she still didn't know him from Adam and he could just as easily be the next Jack the Ripper, or Ted Bundy. Jamie studied him as she stepped out of the tub; he suddenly seemed as awkward as a young kid, his brashness and bravado gone, replaced by a shy nervousness. One hand played with the bottom hem of his boxers and his eyes were unable to meet hers.
Jamie laid a hand on his shoulder and was surprised when he jerked a little under her touch. His skin was warm and soft in contrast to the muscle that played under the surface. "I'll unwrap the ankle and then you can have the tub," she said, bending down to lift his foot onto her thigh.
Even in the low lighting, she could see the ugly purple swelling that gave his ankle an eerie overstuffed look, like a sausage straining against its wrap. She stood and helped him to his feet, his arms draped over her shoulders, the weight on her injured side minimal. This close to him, and facing him, she could feel the heat radiating between them while she peeled back the dressing around his ribs leaving him standing in his boxers. Jamie stepped back, breathing in cool, fresh air in an attempt to disperse the clouds in her mind, then quickly placed a hand over his, halting any further motion when his thumb hooked into the band of his boxers.
She knew she wasn't ready for this. Wasn't even sure of his intentions or what her own actions would be and then he was kissing her. The boxers forgotten. She held onto his waist with both hands splayed as if that would ground her. One of his hands was firmly pressed against the back of her neck and the other rubbed upward on her forearm, but it was his lips that held her spellbound. Tender and demanding as his lips moved against hers, exploring and flicking his tongue against her lips, sending electrical currents that short-circuited her thoughts.
As quickly as he'd begun he stopped. She was aware of him moving to her right side, his arm sliding around her neck and over her shoulder. For a brief moment she knew how the cartoon character Wiley Coyote, forever chasing Road Runner, felt when he found himself standing in empty air above a chasm and realized there was nothing to stop the inevitable fall.
"Going to help me in?" he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice, tugging her closer and lifting his bad leg over the edge of the tub. A hard internal struggle ensued as Jamie assisted him into the tub, all the while fighting the urge to drown the blue-eyed egomaniac who seemed to enjoy playing with her emotions.
She left him soaking in the tub while she retrieved clean boxers, sweats and a faded Grateful Dead t-shirt from his duffel bag along with a large bath towel, all of which she placed on the toilet lid for easy access. The kitchen chair he'd used as a crutch, she set inside the bathroom and closed the door half-way upon her exit, all the while aware he was silently following her every movement with his eyes.
She was still trying to come to grips with the kiss. Had he meant it or was he only toying with her? Answers escaped her, so instead she went about in a no-nonsense, just get it done fashion, afraid to confront her own feelings.
He'd gotten himself to the bathroom, whether by sheer determination or wily cunning, so Jamie figured he could just as easily get himself out of the tub, when the water turned cold, or he turned into a prune, so she bundled up for a trek outside. First order of business would be to fill the wood box, as the supply inside was quickly dwindling, the second was to start the generator and then see if she could raise Mike or Kieran on the radio. She knew they'd be worried about her and she was desperate for a weather update. She was sick of being cooped up inside with no idea how much longer the storm would last.
Greg called out as she stuffed a foot into one of her boots, feeling like the Pillsbury dough boy in her heavy winter gear. "I'm going out for a bit," she said, sticking her head inside the bathroom, somewhat relieved to find him still immersed in the tub. His eyes widened at the sight of her in a coat.
"Where?" He sat up, his face crumpling as if she had just announced she was deserting him.
Jamie couldn't help her eyes dropping to take in his broad, muscled chest, rivulets of water running through a light dusting of chest hair. He was pure male and clearly knew it as he reacted to her appraisal with a smoldering grin.
She hurriedly listed off the reasons she was leaving him, even as she pulled back from the doorway and disappeared from his view, raising her voice so he could hear her. Without waiting for a response, she hustled Indy into the foyer and quickly closed the door behind her. Lifting the lid to the wood box, she shoved the remaining pieces towards the front before opening the outer door that opened into the carport. The temperature and darkened length of the room depressed her as she tromped to the woodpile and begin hauling small loads back to the bin.
Snow covered the only window at the far end, allowing for little outside light, and she judged easily that seven feet of snow had accumulated. That much snowfall would prove difficult in accessing the roof and the generator was going to be even more work than she cared for on a good day, and doubts about her shoulder being up to supporting her as she climbed the roof wiped away any pleasant thoughts she might have had. No sense in dreading something that hadn't taken place yet, she chided herself, and started singing an upbeat melody to lift her spirits.