Meanwhile. “Jeff?” Carter called. He sounded worried.
A phantom something crawled over Jeff’s calf again, and that wasit. He pushed the lattice fascia aside and dragged himself out from under the porch as quickly as he could. Fuck dignity. Jeff wanted another shower and a Xanax IV.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” he chanted as he frantically tried to brush off all of his skin at once. “I hate spiders. Can you just—get them off me, please?”
To his credit, Carter didn’t even smile. “All right, just… hold still?”
Holdstill? And make himself an easier target? But Jeff managed to plant his feet for thirty seconds so Carter could check him over. Carter brushed a hand over the small of his back—which was distracting enough to jar Jeff out of panic mode; who let Carter have such big hands?—and then his ankle, and then he put both hands on Jeff’s shoulders and turned him around, and Jeff closed his eyes while Carter checked his hair. If there were spiders there, Jeff didn’t want to know.
“All right, all done.”
Jeff opened his eyes.
“You’ve had a busy day,” Carter observed. He wasn’t outright laughing at Jeff, at least, even if amusement did color his voice. “Are you hurt?”
“Apart from my dignity, no.”
Now Carter smiled. “That’ll heal.” Jeff doubted it. “What happened, anyway? I know you know better than to leave food outside.”
Ugh. “I fell asleep,” he admitted. “I went out for a run, came back, made myself a snack. I decided to eat it outside, and the sun felt nice, so I just closed my eyes for a few minutes… without finishing my food.”
“Hm.” The smile softened, and he shook his head minutely. “That explains it.”
Jeff frowned. “Explains what?”
“The extra freckles.” Carter raised his hand and lightly brushed a finger down the bridge of Jeff’s nose. It lingered on the tip for a moment before he pulled it away. “And you have a sunburn.”
Jeff’s face did feel a little tight. Also his chest. And his pants. His whole body was wildly, absurdly primed for Carter to kiss him. Did Carter have to touch him like that?
Finally, when seconds had ticked by without Carter making a move, he found his voice. “I knew I forgot something.” As the adrenaline faded from his system, he asked, “Were you talking to the bear?”
“Winnie, yeah.” Carter gestured toward the cabin, and they sat on the porch. “You get to know them by sight after a while.”
“And you named her Winnie. Like Winnie the Pooh.”
Carter raised his eyebrows. “Who says I named her?”
“I do.” The name had Carter’s particular brand of wholesome stamped all over it. And he’d loved that movie as a kid.
“Fine.” He shrugged in capitulation. “The first time I saw her, about five years ago I guess, she had her snout stuck in a honey jar. Someone didn’t lock up their garbage properly. The name seemed fitting. This is the first time I’ve seen her this year. Two cubs—not bad.”
Now that the terror had left his system, Jeff found himself smiling fondly. “You’re such a softy.”
“Hey, I’m just being a good naturalist. Nothing soft about that.”
Naturalist, Jeff noted. Not park ranger. So he’d been wrong about the job title. “Uh-huh. I bet you let all the nuisance bears off with a warning about the air horn,” Jeff teased. “Because you’re soft.”
Carter crossed his arms, playing along. “Maybe I let her off with a warning because the air horn’s really annoying and I hate it and it disturbs the rest of the non-nuisance wildlife.”
“Hmm.” Jeff leaned back and assessed him. “Okay, I’ll buy it.” He shook his head. “Anyway. To what do I owe your incredibly well-timed rescue?”
“I was in the neighborhood,” Carter said wryly. “And so was the bear. She has a tracking device. Dispatch radios in when she goes places she might get in trouble. I still had my radio on after my shift, so I said I’d check it out.”
Of course. “So you were here to save the bear, not me.”
“Oh no. I was here to save the bear from you, and you from the spiders. What were you doing under the porch?”
Jeff sighed. “Hiding. My truck keys were in the cabin, and there was a baby bear on the steps. Didn’t think Winnie would appreciate me trying to sneak past the cub.”
