Standard Disclaimer: No copyrighted material used in this chapter belongs to me. This story belongs to Linda Howard/Jones with some RIB and the writers of Glee mixed in.

A/N: It is something that Sam decides in this chapter that made me say, okay he is okay for Cedes to fall in love with. At first I was just okay with them scratching each other's itches, but his actions in this chapter made me realize that just like Scrooge and The Grinch, he just needs a good person to give him hope for humanity and restore his compassion and allow him to be a better man or Who LOL. See it is a Christmas Story sorta kinda if you dig deep not just because it's late November 2019 now in this story.

Thanks for the reviews. Your support is helping me to get through some bad days with laughing at some of the things you type, just three more days of work until my holiday, better days are coming.

Chapter Fifteen

His eyebrows went up, but he began unbuttoning his shirt. With every button that was opened she saw more and more of his chest, his stomach, and she went breathless again. She wanted to put her hands on him, stroke him, but his eyes were still a bit wild with arousal, and she knew if she did the cut on his back wouldn't get taken care of.

He tossed the flannel shirt across the back of a chair, and turned so she could examine his back. She caught a soft breath. At least he'd put a gauze pad over the wound, though it had bled through. The pad was small, about three by three inches; discolored skin surrounded it. The cut itself might be small, but the impact hadn't been. She reached up and gently tugged at the pad, but though the edges were free the center of it was stuck.

"What happened?" She continued lifting the edges of the gauze, leaning close in an effort to see the actual wound.

"I was cutting firewood and a tree knocked me down. It isn't much, nothing that even needs a stitch."

"But it's still bleeding."

"I can't reach it to put clotting powder on it."

"Well, the gauze is soaked through, and it's stuck to the wound. I need to soak it off with warm water. Where are your first-aid supplies?" Yes, she agreed with him that the wound obviously wasn't serious, or he wouldn't be moving as easily as he was, but his shoulder still needed to be properly bandaged.

"The bathroom," he replied, after a long pause that told her he was teetering on the edge of telling her to back off, that kiss notwithstanding. Cedes began working up her determination, because damned if she was going to leave here without first taking care of him.

"Lead the way," she said, and held her breath.

For a few seconds he didn't move, then she could see him mentally tell himself "What the hell," and led her through his bedroom to the bath. She stayed right on his heels, not taking the time to stop and look around because a delay might prod him to change his mind. She did get a quick look around; her impression of his bedroom was the same as his living quarters: sparse, functional. Even the area rug was more for function than decoration, helping keep the cold from his feet. His bed was covered with a dark green blanket, no bedspread.

The bathroom was more of the same, larger than she'd expected, double sinks, both a tub and a separate shower with a glass door. It smelled of soap and felt somewhat humid. It had been so long since she'd encountered that combination that she skidded to a stop, her brow knitting in puzzlement. The shower door was open, and she noticed that the floor of the shower was damp. Not only that, the towel hanging on the rack looked recently used.

"You . . . your shower still works?" And though the wood-burning stove was in the living area, the bedroom and bath were warmer than she'd have expected, certainly warmer than hers was.

"Gravity system, and solar panels for heating the water."

Hot swallowed a moan. She missed television, she missed being able to go to the grocery store and buy whatever she wanted, she missed central air and heat, but most of all she missed being able to take a hot shower.

He got out an impressive first-aid kit and placed it on the vanity, then lowered the lid on the toilet and straddled it backward. "Just put some clotting powder on it and I'll be fine."

Cedes unzipped the sturdy black kit and spread it open, looking through it to see what was there. She took out antiseptic wipes, antibiotic salve, the envelope of blood-clotting powder, some adhesive bandages, looked for some disposable gloves but didn't see any and mentally shrugged. Somewhat hesitantly she turned on the hot-water faucet, because despite what she was seeing, believing verged on a miracle. The water began flowing.

"Oh my Lord," she said softly as she picked up the soap and began washing her hands.

"What?"

"Running water." Her hands were clean. She didn't bother drying them, just took two pads of gauze, held one under the water, and then plopped it over the bloody one on his back. The other pad of gauze she pressed against his skin below, to catch the red rivulets. When the bandage was soaked, she gently peeled at it again. The stuck part released a little, but more blood began welling up.

"Just pull it off, get it done," he said, glancing over his bare shoulder at her.

Maybe that was the best way, because it was going to bleed regardless. The pad was soaked, she couldn't get it any wetter. Wincing a little, she caught hold of the upper edge of the pad and gave it a firm pull. It came free, and she immediately slapped it back over the wound and put as much pressure as she could on it.

"Use the clotting powder."

"Just dust it on?"

"It takes more than that." He leaned forward some. "Pour it on and pat it in with your fingers."

She tore open the envelope and poured some of the white granules on the bloody wound, then used her finger to wipe most of it into a pile where the bleeding was worse, where she then patted it in as he'd instructed. After a few seconds the clotting began, and in less than half a minute the bleeding had stopped.

In silence she began cleaning around the wound, then, when the bleeding didn't resume, she gently blotted away the stained granules. The skin was broken in a jagged pattern, rather than a cut. The area around it was swollen and bruised. "Too bad we don't have ice," she murmured, then paused. "Or do you?"

"Not at the moment."

Indicating he could have ice if he wanted it bad enough. "What don't you have?"

"No satellite television, central heat or air, or internet."

"I miss all three of those," she admitted softly, blotting the wound with an antiseptic pad. "Not as much as running water, though." She examined the jagged edges. "I think you do need a stitch or two."

"Not bad enough for me to go hunting someone to sew me up, unless you're volunteering. There are sutures in the kit."

"I'll try if you want me to." Dubiously she eyed the wound. "I've never done anything like that before, though." She didn't know how she would stomach sticking a needle through his skin, but come to that, just three months ago she wouldn't have thought she could handle any of the things that defined her life now. She had, and if Sam needed stitches she would manage that, too.

"There is some skin glue in there, too. I don't want to use it now if I don't have to, but it will do the job. I do have Super Glue to that can be used in an emergency. If you think it is deep enough, then you can use a little of the glue to close the wound and then add the butterfly bandages on top of it to just be safe."

She had never used skin glue before, but a part of her knew that once it was applied she couldn't clean the wound or apply antibiotic slave or it would dissolve the glue. So, she started by taking the antiseptic pads to make certain the wound was clean, then applied antibiotic salve. When the salve had been on long enough to dry as she blew his skin to aid with the process, she noticed that this certainly wasn't the first time he'd been hurt. A puckered scar formed a white star close to his waistline on the left. A long, narrow ridge bisected his back from the left shoulder across his spine to wrap around his rib cage on the right. The pad of his right shoulder, right above the current wound, bore a small, thick scar as if the muscle had been gouged. This would be yet another scar, given the unevenness of the break in the skin.

She didn't know much about the military but she did know he'd been in service and his was a warrior's body, a living testimony to pain, sacrifice, and a spirit of steel. With these scars he'd either seen combat or maybe had a hell of a vehicle accident. She was sure it was combat. Perhaps he'd always been a solitary person, but she thought his withdrawal from people had more to do with his experiences than his personality. Her heart swelled with pain for him. She would have stroked those scars, but sensed that he wouldn't welcome it. However he had gotten them was his past to share or not.

As gently as possible she pulled the ragged edges together and applied the skin glue. She blew on the area of skin again hoping to speed up the drying process. When she was certain the glue was dry, she positioned several butterfly bandages over the wound, then covered that with a thick gauze pad that she taped into place. "I'm definitely not a doctor, but I've seen plenty on television, and I have doctored plenty of Bree's minor wounds. So, I think you will reopen the broken skin if you are too active. So, don't do anything active like chopping any wood for a week, and don't get this area wet."

He glanced over his shoulder and this time she definitely saw amusement crinkling his green eyes. "How am I supposed to shower?"

"Ah . . . okay, don't shower for two days. If you're not doing any hard manual labor, you won't be getting all that dirty and sweaty, right?" She began putting the first-aid kit to rights. "But keep an eye on it. If it shows signs of infection, please Sam don't ignore that. We can't risk an infection getting into your bloodstream out here; sepsis is something that can lead to death. You have to come down to the valley, and I'll do or think of something. We have Dr. Mike, and if you don't like doctors, a couple of herbalists who can make a good poultice."

"Yes, ma'am." He got to his feet and turned to face her, and wow, his chest. Cedes quickly looked away before she embarrassed herself again. She had regained her balance somewhat and was almost back to her normal behavior thanks to the way he'd kissed her, but that didn't mean she'd lost her memory of how he'd so easily said "no" to her offer. Rejection hurt the kiss turned the rejection from a death blow, but it still stung with him refusing her even though she could have told him that she wanted him first before offering her body to him, but still...

He put his hands on her waist just as he had before, his thumbs rubbing on each side of her navel in a subtle but potent caress that made her nipples and vagina tighten in response, making her want to lean forward into him until their bodies were touching. Part of her was still astonished that he was touching her, and that astonishment kept her in place though she couldn't stop herself from putting her own hands on his muscled forearms. "I'll be there tomorrow morning, and I'll talk to the valley people," he muttered, his sharp green gaze on her mouth, then moving down to her full breasts. "When we have sex, it won't be because of any negotiation or part of any deal to help save your community. It'll be because we want it. I don't want what we have starting out as transactional. I need it to be real for the both of us. That we both give full consent because we want each other. Are you clear on that?"

Mutely she nodded. When they had sex not if they had sex. Like it was inevitable.

Probably because it was. She couldn't look at the man without wanting to jump his bones. And it wasn't because of the CME. She had always reacted to him on a visceral level and getting to know him had made her want him more if that was even possible. The only thing that the CME did was force her to break out of her bubble and be willing to act on the urge and the desire that she was relieved to know was not just a one-sided fabricated desire, but it really was mutual. He wanted her the same way she wanted him. Apparently he liked her enough to be his Kryptonite to weaken his stance in first warning her about the CME, checking on her and the Carlisles, and now finally being ready to help her community have a fighting chance at survival.

She accepted all of that. She wanted everything he had to offer her. The only question was the one he'd pointed out: When?

"I have to get back soon before it gets too dark," she said, wishing the time was now even though she knew it wasn't. She needed to check on Roz, see about supper. Thank goodness Emma had volunteered to stay with Roz tonight, because Cedes was fast running out of steam. She wanted to curl up under a quilt and weighted blanket on her couch, in front of a fire, and catch up on the sleep she hadn't gotten the night before.

He tilted his head toward the shower. "Would you like to take a shower before you go?"

She stared up at him, her lips parting. He couldn't have offered her a million dollars and tempted her more. A hot shower! For two months she'd been washing off with water carried from the creek and heated in a kettle in the fireplace, which wasn't very efficient. Washing her hair was a big deal and required waiting until she had the time to sit beside the fire to dry it. She worked hard at basic cleanliness, and now hot running water was the ultimate luxury to her.

He almost smiled—not quite, but almost. "If you could see your face. I take that as a yes. Towels and washcloths are there." He indicated the linen closet. "I don't have any fancy-smelling soap or shampoo—"

"I don't care!" she said hurriedly, already reaching for the buttons on her shirt. She stopped, blushed, and dropped her hands before she found herself stripping in front of him.

"Take as long as you want." He went out and closed the door.

Cedes took off her clothes so quickly that she almost tore them. A hot shower! She was going to have a wonderful hot shower!

Sam threw on his shirt, then took the dog and went outside. He didn't quite trust himself to be in the house, knowing he had a naked, selfless, beautiful, and sexy woman in his shower—and not just any sexy woman. Cedes Jones. Quiet, gentle Cedes, who kissed him back with a fire that still had his balls aching. It wasn't just the way she'd responded, but the concern she'd shown over the annoying but definitely not serious cut on his shoulder, and the gentleness of her touch as she tended to him. All his prior wounds had been treated either in the field—not gentle—or in a military hospital—still not gentle. She hadn't been treating a wound, she'd been taking care of him. Her blowing her sweet breath on his skin had been the ultimate temptation. Those little breaths had him fighting his self-control. He had to distract himself about thinking about the other times he had been treated for injuries to keep himself in check. But even those thoughts didn't completely cool his hankering for her. Not just her body. But HER. His Kryptonite had finally dissolved the shields he had placed around his heart to stay uninvolved with her and with the townspeople. It was simply the fact the he couldn't remember the last time, if ever, he'd been taken care of as himself rather than as a soldier, part of a fighting force. Her treating him with humanity brought out his humanity. He was no longer stone cold. She had touched a part of him that even his family couldn't because at the time he couldn't let them in. Didn't know how he would react to losing them to losing somebody else he cared about. He couldn't even get a pet before because he couldn't risk losing an animal. Now he had a dog, too and an amazing woman. She had been the one to fully awaken him with just one unbelievable kiss, and the tender loving care she had shown for him.

Talk about a surprising turn of events. From the second he'd seen her walking up the driveway, he couldn't believe that things had happened so fast.

Hell. Cedes had balls. Not actual balls, which he intended to eventually prove for himself, but when she wanted something she was apparently willing to do anything to get it. She hadn't even been asking for herself, but for the people around her, who would never know what she'd offered and perhaps didn't deserve that kind of sacrifice she had been willing to make when he selfishly told her no just like he had told Mike.

Sacrifice? He'd make sure that their lovemaking would never be considered as a sacrifice or a payment for services rendered. He'd do what she wanted, no strings attached. KRYPTONITE. He would do whatever she wanted him to do. How had he fallen so deep? It was all her. All Cedes. He wanted to make her happy in every way. Especially sexually. Whatever happened with them regarding sex would happen because they both desired it.

He really didn't want to deal with the townsfolk, community folk, whatever the hell they were. Whatever it was or wasn't, he still didn't want to deal with them, but he was committed now, and obviously they needed the help. Despite himself he was concerned about the old couple, the Carlisles. They'd have a tough time emotionally dealing with what had happened, and Jim and Mary Jo would need help getting past it and feeling safe in their home again.

He looked at the dog, bounding around and sniffing at everything. He hadn't wanted the responsibility or the company of the dog, but he'd gotten used to both. He patted his thigh and the dog bounded over to him, body wiggling with delight. Sam crouched down, scratching behind both ears. "I'll miss you, boy," he murmured, "but there's a couple of old people who need you more than I do." There was a concept; he hadn't realized he needed the dog at all. "Reckon you could be happy being spoiled rotten? I don't think you'll get much hunting done, but you'll have all the attention you could want." Maybe the Carlisles wouldn't want a dog to take care of, though having a mountain dog in the house keeping guard might be just what they needed to make them feel safe again. All he could do was ask.

And, hell, that meant he'd have to do some hunting for them, to help them keep the dog fed. That was what was wrong with getting to know people. It was like getting caught in a spiderweb, with more and more relationship strands getting wrapped around him.

One of those strands was in his shower right now. He kept stroking the dog, but his thoughts had zeroed back in on Cedes. When he'd mentioned the shower . . . the expression on her face had been priceless—and arousing. He'd seen joy, wonder, and desire, her soft dark eyes filled with longing. For a shower.

He had an erection. Again. Gingerly he straightened to give his dick room to stretch out, and realized that he wouldn't be able to walk away again. He wanted her to look at him that way. Admit it, own it, and act on it.

He looked at the house, every hunter's instinct in him on alert. There was a smart, selfless, crazy, sexy, gorgeous, naked woman in his shower, and he wanted to be in there with her.

After Cedes had gotten out of the shower, finished dressing, and ended up sitting in front of the fire partially drying her thick hair and putting it into two braids, she found Sam outside on the porch. Noticing her, Sam got up, and he and the dog walked Cedes down the steep driveway to where she'd parked her SUV. He carried his shotgun, his gaze alert and his head on a swivel, constantly looking around him. He was far more alert than she'd been on the walk up, she realized, and he was armed. She had simply walked up without taking much notice of her surroundings. The community patrol would learn from him but she should, too. It was everyone's responsibility to help keep their community safe.

She felt as if she was walking on sunshine. It wasn't as if she hadn't washed every night with soap, but there was something about standing under warm flowing water that was downright invigorating. She smelled like his soap and shampoo/conditioner one product that was supposed to be both and made for white people's hair, both of which were plain without any perfumes added, and that was too be expected, Sam didn't even wear aftershave nevertheless cologne. But the shampoo was definitely not something she could use regularly because most white people shampoo and conditioner did nothing for hair anyway. She had sat in front of the fire and finger-combed her hair to get some heat to it before braiding it and coming outside with a completely wet head in cold weather.

When they reached her SUV she took the remote from her pocket and unlocked the doors. She gave him a slightly guilty look. "I used your toilet, too," she confessed. "And flushed."

"I know. I heard. I'd have been surprised if you hadn't." He slanted a look at her and this time she definitely saw amusement. "Flushed, that is."

Before she knew it she'd lightly punched him on the arm, then realized what she'd done and clapped her hand over her mouth. She could feel her face heating. "I'm so sorry, I usually don't do that.." she mumbled behind her hand.

"What? Give people love taps?" he asked. He looked down at her and hooked his arm around her waist, pulled her against him. "It wasn't even much of a tap, I barely felt it. That said, my feelings are hurt, and you have to make it up to me."

She realized he was flirting with her. Flirting! Sam Evans! Warmth flooded through her and a smile bloomed across her face. Rising on her toes, she wound her arms around his neck and brushed a light kiss across his mouth. "Does this make you feel better?" she asked before giving him another kiss. Even as she did this, she was astonished all over again that he was holding her, that she was kissing him. So much had changed today, things she hadn't imagined would ever happen no matter where her fertile imagination had taken her.

"Almost," he replied, and took over the kiss.

It had been so long since she'd felt attractive to a man, since she'd known passion. Sam made her feel as if she could light him up with the slightest touch, underscored by the thick ridge in his jeans. Looking back, considering how he'd sought her out, however reluctantly, she thought he must have been as attracted to her as she had been to him. The knowledge thrilled her, excited her. She'd be having sex with him soon. She hadn't had sex since Anthony. Hopefully she still knew what to do...

He turned her and lifted her onto the hood of the Honda, stepping between her legs as naturally as if they had been having make-out sessions for months instead of . . . an hour? Cedes's breath went ragged as he settled that hard ridge right against her clitoris and rubbed it back and forth. "Oh," she said in a soft, breathless tone, her fingers digging into the back of his neck.

He made a raw sound deep in his throat and eased away from her. Disappointment shot through her until she saw his face, and was transfixed by the glorious realization that the carnal caress, even through their clothes, had almost sent him over the edge. She liked knowing he was that turned on. She bent her head to let it rest on his left shoulder, her face turned into his throat. The hot man-smell of him filled her with both excitement and joy.

"You should most definitely without a doubt leave now why I still have the strength to let you go," he said, his voice low and rough.

"Yeah." She had things to do, and even more to think about. On the trip up she'd felt as if she was approaching doom, but what had actually happened between them now made her as exhilarated as if she'd successfully been playing hooky. She was going to be with Sam Evans, someday soon. Their situation was still fraught with tension, difficulty, and possible danger, but that was balanced by the amazing fact that people kept on being people, doing what they had done for centuries. Sexual attraction, getting drunk on hormones and pheromones . . . she had to say it was an excellent counterbalance to everything else that was going on.

He lifted her down from the hood and opened the driver's-side door for her. "I'll be at the store early. You said you'd start at nine, but people will be lining up by daylight."

"I hope I have enough gas for everyone."

"Anything is better than nothing. Ration it, so everyone gets some."

Reluctant to leave him, she told him about her idea of making braziers to heat and cook, for the households that didn't have fireplaces, if they could find a potter and a kiln for firing the clay. He nodded. "Good idea. There should be a potter in the valley, with all the crafts going on around here. If there is, there'll need to be fireproof brick, or slate, or an indoor sand pit to put under the braziers so they won't burn the floor."

"Another thing to think about," she said, sighing. "Every solution comes with its own problem, doesn't it?"

"It's the way of the world." He leaned down and kissed her again, as if, now that he'd started, it seemed as if he intended to seize every opportunity to do so, and she didn't mind at all.