A Maine Christmas...or Two by J.S. Scott and Cali MacKay

hair hurriedly, deposited her in his bed and started piling warm blankets on top of her. “You’ll be warm in a few minutes, sweetheart. You’ll be okay.” He knew he was talking as much to himself as he was to her, trying to reassure himself that she was safe.
    Her body started to shiver, and her teeth were chattering, which was a good sign. Her body temperature was rising.
    “Get warm,” she told him as she trembled beneath the blankets. “I’m okay.”
    She didn’t look like she was okay at all, but her eyes looked up at him with a pleading look that he couldn’t ignore. He stripped hurriedly, his own body shivering, a reaction that he knew would raise his body temperature, but it was damn uncomfortable.
    After using the towels to dry his own body, he slid beneath the pile of blankets. He doubted that he had much body heat, but he pulled Emily to him anyway, wondering if he could give her any warmth that he had left in his body through the sheer power of his will.
    Grady clutched her against him, closing his eyes in relief as he felt them shivering together, their bodies warming.
    What if I hadn’t come home exactly when I did? What if I had made another stop? Would Emily have died out there, unable to get free?
    A mammoth shudder went through his body, but it had nothing to do with his body temperature.
    “What if I had lost you? What the hell were you doing out there? That dock isn’t safe even in the summer.” His voice was graveled and anxious.
    Her teeth were still chattering slightly as she answered, “You’d still have your wife,” she ground through her clenched teeth, struggling to move away from him.
    Grady tightened his hold, not letting her escape. “What? Are you delusional? Talk to me.” Maybe she was suffering worse than he thought, because she was uttering complete nonsense. But her body was settling down, and she was only shivering lightly now; his had stopped completely.
    “Hope Sinclair,” she said with a little more strength. “Your wife.” She pummeled at his chest, trying to move away from him. “How could you, Grady? How could you kiss me and act like you cared about me when you have a wife tucked away somewhere? Was all of this just some kind of sick game for you? I was in love with you, you bastard!” Emily stopped fighting and burst into tears, her body starting to rock with heartbreaking sobs.
    “Stop. Emily. Stop crying.” Christ! He couldn’t stand to see her this way. It was ripping his heart from his chest. “I don’t have a wife. Hope is my sister. Did she call while I was gone?”
    “Yes. She said she was your wife,” she sniffed, the sobs halting. “Why would she say that if she wasn’t?”
    Grady snapped, the sight of Emily in tears unraveling him. He rolled Emily beneath him, trapping her so she couldn’t go anywhere. “Because she knows Evan sends women who I don’t want to hook up with me. She’s helped me out before by claiming to be my wife to get rid of a few of them who didn’t really want to take no for an answer.” He loved his sister and he appreciated that she wanted to protect him from an unpleasant scene, but he wanted to wring her neck for not checking with him first.
    “So you aren’t…married?” Emily glanced at him for the first time, her expression vulnerable and shaken.
    “She’s my sister and I love her like a sibling, but I think being married to her is illegal just about everywhere in the world,” he growled fiercely. “I’m fucking obsessed with you, or haven’t you figured that out yet? I think about you every damn moment that I’m awake, and then I dream about you when I sleep. There is nobody else. And there never will be. I think I knew it the moment I saw you sitting in the snow on my doorstep. You’re mine, Angel. I need you more than I need anything else on this earth. Please don’t leave me. Ever.” His voice was vibrating with emotion, his eyes burning with a fire banked for far too long. Grady didn’t