She closed the door behind him and settled a few hard-earned pieces of wood into the stove.

And that’s when she realized. She did need something—matches. But Aidan had been right, she’d freeze to death before opening the door and catching him on the way to his truck to ask if he had any. Nope, she’d have to relive kissing Aidan to keep her warm until she got to the store. The thought heated her just as well as any fire.

Chapter 8

Aidan’s cell went off in the middle of a really great dream where he had the kiss with Lily playing on repeat. And damn, she’d tasted as sweet as he’d remembered. It’d nearly killed him to pull away.

He loved the way she’d held still after, staring at him in shock and wonder, how her tongue had come out to lick her lower lip as if trying to make the taste of him last.

He’d had to force himself to let go of her. But in his dream he didn’t have to let go. And she didn’t push him away either. Nope, instead she pushed him down onto her bed and—

His phone buzzed again. Damn. Reaching out in the dark, he squinted at the screen. Incoming text calling him for an S&R—a missing camper.

He dressed and ran into Hudson at the front door, hair crazy wild, his eyes hooded from sleep.

“Hey, Princess,” Aidan said. “You look like shit.”

Hudson flipped him off as they jogged out to Aidan’s truck and hit the road, driving straight into a wall of fog in the still-dark morning.

“Zero visibility,” Hudson said, looking at his weather app.

“No shit,” Aidan said, looking out the windshield.

Hudson handed him a granola bar.

“What’s this crap?” Aidan asked.

“Just eat it before I cram it down your grumpy-ass throat.”

Aidan ate the granola bar. Not because of Hud’s threat but because he was starving. And when he was done he tossed the wrapper at Hud’s head.

Hud caught it without taking his eyes off his phone. Impressive. The guy had been a skinny and sickly eleven-year-old kid when his mother brought him and Jacob to Cedar Ridge. Char, suffering in her own right, had taken them in, since it was clear their mother wasn’t mentally stable enough to handle them. From that day forward Hud had followed Gray and Aidan around with hero worship in his eyes. Unused to any sort of outdoor lifestyle, he’d often ended up hurt and stuck indoors. Char, who’d loved them all equally, had a soft spot for Hud. She’d babied him, earning him the nickname Princess.

Hudson had grown a couple of feet and a whole bunch of muscle since then, but, to his eternal frustration, the nickname had stuck.

“You really do look like shit,” Aidan said.