Page 8 of Between Two Thorns

A Little Handsy

R ose let out a shriek. She felt a shivering jerk of disgust, and she scrabbled her hands over her neck.

“Ewww! Oh my God, it was touching me. Oh, my God.”

“Ms. Woods.”

Sam was trying to get her attention, but she was not paying him even a lick.

“Rose—”

The redhead was too busy freaking out to be calmed down by Sam’s sweet voice. She was reviled. How had she not noticed that cold, creepy, undead flesh pressed against her skin??

Because she had been hoping it was one of the guys’ hands on her.

She needed to shower, need to get the grossness off, use her best exfoliant and scrub like she used to be able to think she could do with the cluster of freckles on her shoulder.

“Sweetheart,” Sam tried again, but this time, he grabbed both of her wrists, easily encompassing them with his big hands. “Cálmate.”

Surprisingly soft hands.

Rose finally stilled. There was something…encompassing about the low intonation of the words. Like he had a voice that must be obeyed.

That calmed her, at least on the surface.

Her heart was doing a rumba in her chest, pulse racing under his palms.

“There we go,” he drawled, giving her a smile with those full lips and that perfect amount of stubble.

He released her, and Rose felt herself pout again, dammit.

“Alright. Now, we survive the night. “

***

Sam’s decision to sleep in the ambulance was the easy part of the plan—just that instant of Del opening the back door to kick the zombie hand out caused a chill to creep in from the desert night.

So, they all set to work trying to keep the heat in the rig.

Rose had to be lifted over the bench seat and into the back while Sam grabbed the shock blankets. Which the redhead had taken for big folded blocks of aluminum foil. Mr. Paramedic had taken charge and ordered Del to help him tape one of the “blankets” over the front window.

Rose scrambled around the back, only able to balance on her unwrapped foot.

She had seen the back of an ambulance before—on TV, of course. Never actually been in one. They always had some sort of medical gurney in there .

She and Del had launched that at the zombie hoard that was trying to climb their way in.

There was just a lot of stuff lining the walls. Cabinets and metal things and doors and compartments and things that she opened and looked through. But she didn’t recognize most medical supplies—a lot of stuff that was wrapped in plastic or shiny metal—none of which looked helpful. There was a seat to pull out of nowhere, but that was it.

All she could figure was the three of them would have to lie down on the hard, rubber-coated floor. She grabbed for a bag of gauze and things that would have to serve as a pillow. And, she supposed, they’d be crammed together like a row of sardines. Under another one of those shock blankets.

“Could just sleep in the front seat.” Del murmured, cutting the tape with his teeth and making sure the foil stayed stuck to the window.

“Too much cold air in the front.” Sam murmured.

“We’re fine. We’ll just make room.” Rose assured Del, giving a little smile.

She couldn’t deny that the prospect of cuddling up all night with two handsome men who had saved her life and limb was perhaps a bit too exciting.

But the younger man looked just a little bit uncomfortable.

Del didn’t emote much—not with his face, at least. Rose wasn’t sure if she was picking up on some sort of subconscious body language or just reading his vibe easily.

Though the younger man moved to the back of the bus, towards the doors, glancing out into the dark of the night.

“I’ll keep watch,” He offered, as if that was an alternative to keeping warm.

Sam had just lifted himself over the front bench seat into the back, ducking his head to keep from hitting the ceiling and moving carefully around Rose and her ankle where she sat along the floor. “You’re gonna freeze, man, you said it yourself. Temps drop like a stone out here once the sun is down.”

Del jerked his hand towards his mouth. And Rose had the distinct impression that he was trying to stop himself from biting at his cuticles again, since he had no fingernails left. It might have looked aggressive from the outside, from the way Sam stilled at her right hip and sighed.

But, to Rose, it looked… fretful. Torn.

“It’s fine.” Rose smoothed it over. “Just, come under the blanket if ya see your breath, okay?” She offered him a smile.

He didn’t return it, but he nodded his head. Del lifted himself up onto the pull-down seat, keeping his eye on the windows in the door.

Sam laid down, crinkling the shock blanket with the sound of thin metal as he arranged it around the both of them. “You’ve met before?” He asked at her ear.

Rose turned over her elbow, her brows furrowed. “Nope, why?”

Sam pursed his lips, then nodded. “That’s a little impressive.” He mumbled. “Took me forever to decode one Del-silence over another.”

Rose glanced over, before giving a little smirk and a shimmy of her shoulders. Though that ticked something else in the back of her mind. She turned her hazel eyes towards Sam. “You two have met them—I mean, you know each other?” She inquired, her curiosity probably obvious in her tone.

“Yeah, we do.” Sam said, utterly unhelpful. His dark brown eyes turned towards their feet and over the shock blanket towards Del. Who was pointedly looking outside, it seemed.

Rose frowned. She could tell that they did know each other, despite their differences in age and appearance. Also, the longer she was listening to them both, and the more that she could distinguish between their accents.

Rose was familiar with the fake cowboy-isms of the more touristy parts of the Midwest—which was the number one way for a guest on the Ranch to get right on her nerves. They didn’t have southern accents. People from the Bible belt did. And no, your impression was not cute, it was cringeworthy.

Sam didn’t drawl the way Del did, unless he meant to, but he had more of a twang to his words. Rose noticed that the paramedic seemed to speak emphatically, keeping every syllable and every word, whereas the younger man dropped sounds and entire words.

When Del glanced their way, and saw Sam staring, he shifted in his jump seat and pointedly looked away, which caused the sigh she heard from his lips—and had to imagine because she was currently looking at the back of his curly head.

Great, thick curls, mind you.

Then Sam rolled over, and Rose felt absolutely all the breaths out of her lips and nose stop all at once. Because she was nose to nose with that beautiful warm skin and dark brown eyes.

Eyes that Rose wanted to let swallow her whole.

A chuckle came from his mouth, lips pulling off his contrasting white teeth. “Still thinkin’ about that kiss quest of yours?”

Rose blinked, her face flushing as red as her hair fast enough to make her head spin. “Well, I am now.” She said back, like his accent was contagious.

Sam laughed. And the sound was as rich and deep as those eyes.

“Well…”

Rose held her breath, like everything in her was waiting on how he was going to finish that sentence.

The blanket crinkled, and his arm moved, and Rose nearly shivered. Like he was ghosting his hand up along her side to—

Check his damn watch.

“…since it’s two minutes past midnight on your birthday—”

“I deserve twice as many kisses, I agree,” Rose blurted, as Del settled in behind her.