Page 24 of Burned By Sin
Harper turns back to the tub, shutting off the faucet. The water swirls, a perfect balance of steam and calm. “It’s ready,” she says gently. “Jump in. I’ll grab some dry clothes in a minute.” I hesitate, clutching the blanket around my waist. The room’s quiet except for the soft hiss of cooling pipes and the faint creak of Rhys pacing the hallway. I glance toward the door, watching him turn and stride back, scowling at me. I’m taking Harper away from him, and I’m not mad about it.
So I let the blanket fall and step into the water. It’s hot enough to sting at first, but I sink down anyway, groaning as the warmth seeps into my frozen bones. My fingers twitch as blood starts to flow properly again, my heartbeat finally finding rhythm in my chest. Harper kneels beside the tub, her reflection blurred in the glass behind.
“Better?” she asks. I nod, eyes half-closed, watching the condensation bead and slide down the windowpane.
“Feels like my body’s remembering what it means to be alive.” She lets out a small laugh.
“Good. Let’s try to keep it that way.”
I study her profile as she sits back on her heels, the light catching the faint sheen of icing still dusted on her face. There’s something achingly human about her, how she carries both exhaustion and grace, worry and affection, all at once. Reaching for a towel, she folds it neatly over the side of the tub, busying herself.
“You should stay in there for fifteen minutes. Any longer and your blood pressure might drop too fast. You’re still recovering.”
“Yes, doctor.” I smirk faintly. Her lips twitch, fighting a smile.
“Don’t test me. I know exactly how to monitor a pulse.” Comfort settles in my chest and I sink lower, resting my head on the rim. Harper stays, and I reckon she’s timing me in her head. Having her so close is doing frenzied things to my mind, especially when there’s another man beyond the door also aching for her attention. Yet there’s no rushing her, as she brushes imaginary creases out of the towel.
Before I can stop myself, I reach out, water dripping from my fingers as I catch her wrist lightly. She blinks up at me startled, but doesn’t pull away.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “For taking care of me.” Harper’s green eyes soften, the corners crinkling slightly.
“I’m just glad you’re here.” For a long moment, we just stare at each other, me half-submerged and her kneeling at my side, the world beyond the window nothing but white and quiet. And for the first time in years, the silence doesn’t feel like punishment. It feels like peace.
Chapter Fifteen
The front door bursts open, letting in a gust of wind and a spray of snow that scatters across the wooden floorboards. We waited a few days, hoping the weather would improve but it’s only getting worse. Clay decided we couldn’t leave his truck and belongings out there any longer, and since the ski clothes provided in the wardrobes were men’s, I got to stay back.
Clay stumbles in first, shaking his head like a drenched golden retriever, snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes and collar. Rhys follows behind him, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary, his jaw set in that way that meansdon’t ask.
Both of them are covered in white, their hair, shoulders, and boots walking a blizzard into the living room that melts into small puddles. Dropping the bags, they turn to me in comical unison, their matching scowls damping the festive atmosphere and causing my mass of cinnamon-scented candles to flicker.
From my position on the sofa, ankles crossed on the table, cradling a mug of hot chocolate in one hand and a book in the other, I wonder who is going to break the silence first. I should have put money on it being Rhys.
“I literally gave you a check for more than most people’s houses are worth, andyou couldn’t put some aside to get that shitheap truck fixed?” Cutting him with a sharp side eye, Clay throws his coat onto the back of the armchair.
“I put all of it towards my mom’s care.”
“Such a fucking martyr,” Rhys groans, tugging off his gloves with his teeth. His cheeks are pink from the cold, and a snowflake is melting on the bridge of his nose. I hide my smile behind the rim of my mug. The fire crackles merrily in the stone pit, throwing warmth into the cabin’s wooden walls and thawing out the tension the boys carried in with them.
“Would it kill you two to pretend you like each other for just one day?” I ask, leaning forward to set down the mug and book. My tone’s teasing, but my gaze lingers between them, curious to see if there’s been a change in dynamic. As if it would be that easy.
Rhys tosses his gloves onto the hearth and proceeds to strip down to his boxers, leaving his wet clothes in a heap on the floor. Lifting the blanket from my legs, he sinks into the sofa beside me, tucking us both beneath the thick layer of fluff.
“Pretending would imply effort,” he mutters. Leaning into my side, Rhys’ head finds the hollow of my shoulder, sighing with the entire weight of his chest. I can’t expect too much, I did manage to convince him to accompany Clay for a small hike in the impending blizzard. There’s a Christmas miracle in itself.
“Did you play nice?” I nudge Rhys playfully.
“I always play nice,” he replies instantly, although Clay scoffs as brushes off his jeans and heads toward the kitchen.
“He spent the whole time throwing snowballs at the back of my head!” I feel the twitch of Rhys’ lips against my shoulder.
“I thought he’d learn to duck out of the way.”
“I can’t duck out of the way of you stuffing snow down my collar,” Clay hisses, audibly shifting around as he undresses. Rhys chuckles to himself softly.
“Semantics,” he drawls. Clay comes back around, now free ofclothes aside from the boxers he’s covering with his hands. Unlike Rhys, who is naturally entitled and at ease being naked, Clay is more reserved. I smile, both appreciating his pronounced muscle and finding his shyness endearing. The reddened line marring his collar bone stands out like it did in the bath last night, but I avoid looking at it. If Clay wants to tell me what happened, he will.
“I’m going to shower off, then I’m cooking dinner for everyone,” he announces with a decisive nod. My brow raises.
