Read Online Love In Alaska (The Love In 50 States Series Book 2) by Shelby Gates - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shelby Gates
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leak-proof.
“I'm finished,” I called.
There was no answer. I crawled back toward my sleeping bag, wanting to burrow back inside of its warmth. But I needed to stay near the opening of the tent to let Evan back in.
I waited for what seemed like hours. There was no sound outside except the steady pounding of the rain. My imagination took over. What if something terrible had happened? What if he slipped and hit his head? What if a flash flood swept him away? What if the bear had been waiting for him and jumped out of the forest and ate him? I dug in my bag and found my phone. I pressed the home button and my heart sank when I saw the words No Service.
I wasn't religious but I found myself muttering prayers to anyone who would listen.
Finally, I heard splashing that sounded like footsteps and a flood of relief washed over me.
“Open it up!”
My fingers couldn't work the zipper fast enough. I unzipped the flap and held it open and Evan dove inside, a river of water coming in with him. His hair was plastered down and his beard looked like a sponge, droplets of water clinging to it. His clothes were so wet it looked as if he'd jumped into a pool fully clothed. I pulled the flap back down and zipped it up.
He held up the wet food bag and gave me a weak smile. “Found it,” he said, huffing and puffing. “Branch broke. It floated away and I had to hunt it down, but found it.” He rolled over on his back, his chest heaving up and down. “And holy shit, is it cold out there.”
His teeth chattered and his shoulders shook with chills.
“You need to get out of those clothes,” I said. “You need to get warm.”
“I know,” he rasped. “Need to catch my breath first.”
I crawled over to him and started unlacing his soaked boots.
“What are you doing?” he asked, lifting his head up. His eyes were glazed and his lips were more blue than pink.
“Getting you out of these,” I said. “You need to get warm. Now.”
“I can do it,” he said, attempting to sit up.
I nudged him back down. “Get your jacket off,” I said. “Now.”
He blinked a couple of times, processing my words before he fumbled with the zipper on the jacket. I had his other boot off before his trembling fingers finally got the jacket unzipped. I helped him pull it off, the wet material sticking to him. I laid it next to the boots and pulled his socks off while he slowly stripped off his shirt.
He lay there, half-naked, his eyes closed.
“Get your pants off.” His eyes flashed open and he started to protest but I cut him off. “Don't get all modest now. I just peed in a bag.”
He smiled weakly.
“You need to get dry and warm.”
He didn't say anything but he unbuttoned the cargo pants and I helped him pull them off, grabbing the cuffs of both legs. I shoved all of his wet clothes in the corner, hoping to keep them away from his sleeping bag, but the damage had been done. He was shivering like crazy and his sleeping bag was soaked.
“Get in my bag,” I commanded.
He hesitated, his arms wrapped tightly around his bare chest, his teeth slamming together like tiny hammers.
“Get in now,” I said, pushing him in that direction.
He finally crawled toward the bag and rolled inside it.
I spent a minute spreading his things out, thinking they would have to dry at some point, especially his shoes and socks. I pulled those away from his wet clothes, laying the socks out next to one another at the foot of my bag and opening up his boots as much as possible.
I glanced at Evan. I could see him shaking, the fabric of the sleeping bag vibrating. I grabbed the fleece he'd stripped out of and handed it to him. “Put it on.”
“I can't,” he said, his teeth still jackhammering.
I unzipped the fleece to the midpoint and pulled the top of my bag back. He had his knees to his chest, curled in the fetal position. I tried to get the fleece over his arms, but it was nearly impossible because he was shaking so bad. I flung the fleece
“I'm finished,” I called.
There was no answer. I crawled back toward my sleeping bag, wanting to burrow back inside of its warmth. But I needed to stay near the opening of the tent to let Evan back in.
I waited for what seemed like hours. There was no sound outside except the steady pounding of the rain. My imagination took over. What if something terrible had happened? What if he slipped and hit his head? What if a flash flood swept him away? What if the bear had been waiting for him and jumped out of the forest and ate him? I dug in my bag and found my phone. I pressed the home button and my heart sank when I saw the words No Service.
I wasn't religious but I found myself muttering prayers to anyone who would listen.
Finally, I heard splashing that sounded like footsteps and a flood of relief washed over me.
“Open it up!”
My fingers couldn't work the zipper fast enough. I unzipped the flap and held it open and Evan dove inside, a river of water coming in with him. His hair was plastered down and his beard looked like a sponge, droplets of water clinging to it. His clothes were so wet it looked as if he'd jumped into a pool fully clothed. I pulled the flap back down and zipped it up.
He held up the wet food bag and gave me a weak smile. “Found it,” he said, huffing and puffing. “Branch broke. It floated away and I had to hunt it down, but found it.” He rolled over on his back, his chest heaving up and down. “And holy shit, is it cold out there.”
His teeth chattered and his shoulders shook with chills.
“You need to get out of those clothes,” I said. “You need to get warm.”
“I know,” he rasped. “Need to catch my breath first.”
I crawled over to him and started unlacing his soaked boots.
“What are you doing?” he asked, lifting his head up. His eyes were glazed and his lips were more blue than pink.
“Getting you out of these,” I said. “You need to get warm. Now.”
“I can do it,” he said, attempting to sit up.
I nudged him back down. “Get your jacket off,” I said. “Now.”
He blinked a couple of times, processing my words before he fumbled with the zipper on the jacket. I had his other boot off before his trembling fingers finally got the jacket unzipped. I helped him pull it off, the wet material sticking to him. I laid it next to the boots and pulled his socks off while he slowly stripped off his shirt.
He lay there, half-naked, his eyes closed.
“Get your pants off.” His eyes flashed open and he started to protest but I cut him off. “Don't get all modest now. I just peed in a bag.”
He smiled weakly.
“You need to get dry and warm.”
He didn't say anything but he unbuttoned the cargo pants and I helped him pull them off, grabbing the cuffs of both legs. I shoved all of his wet clothes in the corner, hoping to keep them away from his sleeping bag, but the damage had been done. He was shivering like crazy and his sleeping bag was soaked.
“Get in my bag,” I commanded.
He hesitated, his arms wrapped tightly around his bare chest, his teeth slamming together like tiny hammers.
“Get in now,” I said, pushing him in that direction.
He finally crawled toward the bag and rolled inside it.
I spent a minute spreading his things out, thinking they would have to dry at some point, especially his shoes and socks. I pulled those away from his wet clothes, laying the socks out next to one another at the foot of my bag and opening up his boots as much as possible.
I glanced at Evan. I could see him shaking, the fabric of the sleeping bag vibrating. I grabbed the fleece he'd stripped out of and handed it to him. “Put it on.”
“I can't,” he said, his teeth still jackhammering.
I unzipped the fleece to the midpoint and pulled the top of my bag back. He had his knees to his chest, curled in the fetal position. I tried to get the fleece over his arms, but it was nearly impossible because he was shaking so bad. I flung the fleece
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