She stood there, staring at him helplessly with a slow flush rising up her neck. She’d started to unbutton her shirt as soon as he told her to, but halfway down she’d realized what she was doing. They were no longer dating, hadn’t been for a long time, and she couldn’t just get naked in front of him.
“I…”
He turned back, one eyebrow going up as he noticed she’d stopped moving and was giving him a deer in the headlights look. “Do you need help, Charlie?” He paused and then realized the problem. “You know I’ve seen you naked a thousand times, right?”
She shifted from one foot to the other and looked down at the growing puddle around her feet. That was when she realized she’d run all the way across the ranch wearing only her socks and her legs were plastered with mud past her knees. Then he looked down and realized, too.
He shook his head and sighed, “Okay, I’m going to go get you a robe to wear. Get undressed and in the shower. I’ll be right back, Charlie.” He turned to go and then looked back, “Why don’t you give me the rabbit? I can throw him in the dryer for you.”
Mister Hop was still clutched tight in her arms and now her face was really turning bright pink. Of all the mortifying things to happen, she had to put showing up at her ex’s house terrified and clutching a toy right up there at the top of the list. She forced herself to release the death grip on the bunny so she could hand it to him without looking like an infant.
He was gone before she remembered her manners well enough to thank him and she decided against yelling it down the hall. Instead, she concentrated on peeling the soaked clothing from her body. The shirt and bra came off easy enough, but the jeans had been tight to begin with and they clung, resisting her attempts to struggle out of them until she finally had to sit down on the toilet seat lid to avoid falling over.
Without her clothes the shivering grew worse and she hurriedly stepped into the shower. The water was steaming hot and the relief was instantaneous. She could feel the tension slowly draining from her body; best of all the pounding water helped to muffle the distant thunder somewhat.
Her eyes closed and she let out a long sigh of pleasure. She didn’t bother reaching for the soap or shampoo, all she wanted was to let the heat sink into her bones and when she heard him moving around on the other side of the curtain she couldn’t get up the energy to peek out.
“Going to throw your muddy clothes in the wash. There’s a robe and slippers for you to wear. They’ll be big on you, but it’ll work for now.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled softly.
“No problem. I haven’t stocked the log pile in a while, but I have enough for a fire if you want me to start one.” It was summer but the ranch wasn’t too far from the mountains and sudden temperature drops when storms rolled in were common.
It was thoughtful of him to offer, but it reminded her of just how well he knew her. Sitting in front of a fire was one of her favorite things. There was something so relaxing about watching the coals twinkle like little glowing rubies, and many nights she’d sat there mesmerized at the sight.
It made her want to reject the offer just to show him he didn’t know as much as he thought, but she needed all the comfort she could get. “Yes, please. And cocoa if you’ve got some?”
“I’ll start the water boiling for it,” he said.
She used every drop of hot water and by the time she padded out in his oversized robe and slippers the fire was crackling nicely. He’d moved a chair closer and a steaming cup of cocoa sat on a folding tray next to it. The sight brought tears to her eyes and she was trying to hide the sniffles as she gratefully settled in with her hands wrapped tightly around the mug.
He took a seat, holding his own cup, and they sat in silence. Neither one knew exactly what to say, and it seemed best on both sides just to concentrate on the sweet drinks and the warm glow of the flames.
She began to relax, slumping back with a sigh and she felt his eyes on her. She avoided noticing the glance, pointedly looking down into her mug as the level slowly dropped. He’d put little colored marshmallows in the cocoa just the way she liked it.
She felt like she should apologize to him, but she also wanted to scream and throw things at him and the combination left her confused. She was working up the courage to say something, anything, when the storm intensified. Wind funneled down the chimney to make the flames whip around and then roar up high sending a blast of heat her way, and then the thunder broke in a rolling crash.
It sounded like it was right overhead, and she let out a panicked little shriek. When she jerked, the cocoa sloshed over the rim of the mug, but she barely noticed the sting from the hot liquid as she looked up fearfully.
Sam was instantly at her side wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Still scared of the thunder, Charlie?” he asked.
“Y-yeah. It’s not so bad other places but here it…” She trailed off without finishing the sentence, but she knew it wasn’t necessary. She’d been scared of storms since she was small, and he knew it, though probably not exactly why. Her mother had left them in a storm and she’d never come back. The fact that she’d left by choice didn’t matter. All the logic in the world wouldn’t help her get over the fear of what a storm might take next time.
In her mind that connection was always there, and it was worse at home, not just because of how loud and violent it could get here (though that didn’t help) but because the ranch was the last place she’d seen her mom.
He gave her shoulders a sympathetic squeeze. “Yeah, I get it, Charlie. Probably worse being all alone in that big house, too.”
She nodded, holding the mug in both shaking hands as she took a sip. She felt like a scaredy-cat, and maybe she was, but it wasn’t like she could hide this fear. It was just too big. “Sam, can I stay here tonight? I know I said I didn’t want to see you right now, but I just don’t think I can go back until the storm is over.” She snuck a look at him to see what he thought of the request.
His expression was one of concern, not mocking like she’d feared, and he nodded. “Course, you know you’re welcome here. You can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No, no, I’m not taking your bed,” she protested, as if that wouldn’t make her feel worse than she already did.
“Charlie. Don’t be silly, I’ll be fine on the couch.” His insistence had just a hint of sternness, but she had a trump card.
“Actually, I’d kind of like to sleep out here anyway. Near the fire. It’s soothing to watch,” she said.
He hesitated and then gave in. “All right, kid. Sleep on the couch if you want, but I’m warning you now it’s lumpy and the springs poke up in spots.” His arm dropped away as he straightened and suddenly there was distance between them again. Probably for the best, since for a second, she’d been reminded of how calming he could be when she was upset.
