SEALed at Midnight (8 page)

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Authors: Cat Johnson

BOOK: SEALed at Midnight
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“Where are we?” he asked.

“Massachusetts.” She hoped her answer didn’t send him into some sort of fit.

“Massachusetts,” he repeated it before letting out a shaky breath. Then again, everything on him was shaking.

“You’re wet and freezing. Come inside.” She shushed the voice in her head that kept repeating the word
stupid
, followed by
skin coat.

Blindly, she pushed the barn door wider. She abandoned the flashlight. The bulb was probably broken, even if she could have found where she’d dropped it in the dark.

The moonlight would offer enough illumination for her to get to the house. She stepped out of the barn and into the snow, wondering if he’d come and not sure she wanted him to.

When she turned back she saw he had followed her out of the barn. He stood in the snow, his arms wrapped around himself as he looked around, as if seeing it all for the first time.

Afraid they’d both freeze to death, she reached out and touched his arm, gently to not set him off into another delusion. “Come inside the house?”

He nodded.

That was a relief. She was even less prepared to deal with hypothermia and frostbite than she was for this storm. And a man frozen to death in the yard would be hard to explain to the homeowners.

Stepping in her own footsteps she started for the house. A half a dozen steps later, Ginny realized that she’d forgotten to latch the barn door—the whole reason she’d come outside in the first place.

It didn’t matter. The banging wouldn’t keep her awake because she seriously doubted she’d be getting any more sleep tonight. Not with Mr. Alpha Team in Building A with her.

CHAPTER 7

On the porch she glanced back to make sure he was still following before she gathered as much wood as she could fit in her arms.

She managed to open the door and took a step inside, remembering she wouldn’t be able to see without the flashlight.

Dumping the wood on the floor, she turned back to him. “Come in and close the door, but watch the wood on the floor. I’m going to light some candles. Stay right there so you don’t trip.”

Being inside the dark house with the stranger was a little frightening. That inspired Ginny to find her cell phone first.

Creeping across the living room, she ran into the sofa, and felt her way around it.

By running her hand over the coffee table, she found the cell phone and let out a breath of relief. She hit the button and the display lit.

Thank God it didn’t have a dead battery. She could use it as a flashlight until she got to the candles and matches. And she could call for help if necessary.

The candles were on the mantle. She lit the first one and warm candlelight flooded her end of the cold room. She lit another and carried it to the coffee table.

With the room lit enough to safely see she went to get the wood she’d dumped by the door where she’d left the stranger.

In the candlelight, she got her first good look at her find. He stood shivering in a lightweight sports coat, T-shirt and jeans, totally inappropriately dressed for this kind of weather.

Ginny wasn't winning any fashion awards in her flannel pajamas, knee-high rubber boots and puffy insulated jacket, but at least she was warmer than him.

What she looked like wouldn't have mattered to her, except for the fact that her male guest was freaking gorgeous.

The candlelight glinted off the icicles forming in his dark wavy hair. Tall and broad and probably not much older than herself, even half-frozen he was better looking than ninety percent of the men on the matchmaking site she’d recently sworn off.

And he was shaking so badly he was vibrating the front door he was leaning against.

“I’m sorry. The house isn’t much warmer than outside. The power is out so the heat won’t work, but I can try to make a fire. I’m not the best fire maker and the wood’s wet but . . .”

“I can make the fire.” He bent and reached for a piece of wood . . . and swayed. He grabbed for the wall with one hand and pressed the other to his head.

Ginny took a closer look at him, this time not evaluating his good looks, but rather his current condition. She saw that his hair was frozen with more than just snow. There was something dark that looked a lot like blood.

“I think you might be bleeding. You must have hit your head. Were you in a car accident?”

“I don’t know.”

An accident. That made perfect sense. It was a completely logical reason why he’d be disoriented, wandering around in a storm unsure of where he was and talking nonsense.

She wasn’t going to become a skin coat for a lunatic.
 

That he thought he was on Alpha Team and was sneaking up on his insurgent target was still a little strange, but she could deal with it.

Relief overwhelmed her as she ran to the kitchen and felt for the dishtowel in the dark. She handed the towel to him and he pressed it to his head.

“Come sit down.” She reached out gingerly and took his arm. When he didn’t protest, she guided him to the couch. “Sit.”

He did and she draped the blanket around his shoulders. She left him shaking on the sofa and rushed to the pile of wood. While she was by the door, she kicked off the wet snow boots before grabbing a few pieces of firewood.

After dumping the logs next to the hearth, she kneeled on the stone in front of the gaping fireplace and grabbed a few sections of the newspaper from the stack on the floor. The more paper the better since she had no kindling and only snow-soaked wood to build the fire with.

While balling up the paper, page by page, she said, “You’re soaked. You’ll never get warm in those wet clothes.”

Not in a house with no heat and whatever crappy fire she’d be able to make.

When he didn’t answer, she glanced back at her guest. While she’d been busy, he had stood. His jacket was already off and he was in the midst of unbuttoning his jeans.

“Um, what are you doing?”

“F-f-freezing.” His teeth literally chattered. She could hear them from where she was.

“Oh.” She watched as he sat and toed off his shoes.

He stood again and pushed his jeans down what looked like some pretty muscular thighs.

Of course there was a chance he was preparing to rape and murder her while she sat there and admired his body. In that case, she deserved anything she got.

He pulled off his socks and his T-shirt and
holy shit
was he in good shape. Like fitness magazine cover kind of shape.

Thank God he left his boxer shorts on. She wasn’t sure how she’d react if faced with all of him.

She felt a huge relief when he sat again and wrapped the blanket around himself.

With the fear of his being a sex pervert sidelined for the moment, she realized he was still shivering.

Her fire making abilities were in question but at least there was one thing she could do to help him. “I’ll get you another blanket.”

His chattering nod was his only response as she grabbed the candle from the mantle.

Shielding the flame with one hand, she made her way to the bedroom and grabbed the comforter from her bed.

She hadn’t been gone long, but by the time she got back he was on his knees in front of the fireplace where a flame burned inside.

“Wow. You got it started.”

“I p-p-poured some melted candlewax onto the wood.”

“Oh, good idea.” Ginny carried the comforter to him since he didn’t seem to be moving away from the hearth and the only source of warmth. “Here. This should help.”

“T-t-thanks.” He clutched the comforter she draped around him on top of the blanket.

The room, lit by the flickering firelight and candles, seemed so much warmer than it had even a few minutes ago, but not warm enough she wanted to be too far from the fire. She kneeled on the floor near him and unzipped her jacket.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” She wasn’t sure what she was offering.

The stovetop was electric so she couldn’t even make him hot tea. If he was thirsty, she could get him a bottle of cold water from the fridge, but she wasn’t sure that would help all that much.

“No.” He chattered less as he answered. That was a good sign.

“Can you tell me what happened to you? How you got to be in the barn?”

“I don’t know.”

 
“Okay. Is there someone you want me to call for you? Your wife, maybe?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced down at his left hand.

So did she, and saw there was no wedding ring on his finger. Not even an impression where there used to be one.

Crazy woman that she was, she felt relieved he wasn’t married.

Ginny chewed on her lip and regrouped. “Is your cell phone in your jacket or jeans? We can look in your contact list.”

“No phone. I checked.”

“I’m Ginny, by the way. And you are?” Maybe she could Google his name on her phone and find a home number.

“I don’t remember my name.” There was horror in his expression. He looked so miserable sitting there, not knowing who he was.

That had been her last idea. She was out of suggestions.
 

“Hey, it’s okay.” She felt the need to comfort him. When he let out a short bitter-sounding laugh at that, she added, “Really. I think you must have hit your head. You probably have a concussion. That’s why you can’t remember anything. I’m sure your memory will come back. All you need is a good night’s sleep. Oh, but wait. You’re not supposed to sleep with a concussion.”

“I think it’s that you can sleep but only for two hours at a time.”

“Oh. Okay. Do you want to lie down and try to get some rest? I’ll wake you up.”

“Not now.”

“Maybe I should look at that cut on your head.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He wouldn’t accept any help. In fact, even while injured he’d been the one helping her when he built the fire that warmed her enough she slipped off her jacket.

Yeah, she was in her pajamas, but he was in his boxer shorts under the mound of covers, so she didn’t worry too much about it.

He lifted his head and started to unwrap himself from the blankets.

“Do you need something?” she asked.

“Just going to put more wood on the fire.”

“Let me get that.” Ginny hopped up and ran to grab the last pieces of wood she’d left by the doorway. She brought them back to the hearth. “I should get more inside so it will dry.”

“Let me.” He moved to get up.

“No. Stay. You’re hurt.”

He let out a snort. “I’ve had worse.”

She paused at that comment. “Do you remember something?”

He laughed. “Not really. It’s just a feeling I have.”

“Oh. Okay.”

That was too bad. It was Christmas. Someone must be very worried about this man being missing. She knew she would be if he were hers to worry about.

“Thank you.” His comment drew her out of her thoughts.

She glanced at him. “For what?”

“Everything.” The firelight danced over his high cheekbones and strong jaw that showed just a shadow of stubble.

 
“It wasn’t as if I had anything else to do so . . .” Ginny shrugged.

“Still, it’s nice of you.”

“Eh, consider it my Christmas good deed.”

His eyes widened. “It’s Christmas?”

She cringed. “Yeah. Sorry to dump that bit of info on you like that. I guess that makes tonight extra shitty for you.”

 
“I feel like something important is right there, hovering on the edge of my memory. So close but I can’t grab it.” He shook his head.

“Maybe if we talk it might jog your memory.”

“Maybe. I’m not sure how much I can contribute to the conversation.”

“Let me start. Out in the barn, you were talking about missions and insurgents and targets and the base. Were you in the military?”

After a beat, he nodded. “Yes.”

“You know that?” Now it was her eyes that flew wide.

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