She turned to see Rick pull some of the furs off the rack and set them on the floor. Soon, he had quite a pile. She went over and watched him, wondering what he was up to. Then it hit her: he was making a bed for the both of them. Rick walked away and flipped a few switches. Soon most of the lights were off leaving just enough on to illuminate the front of the warehouse. The air was cold, but not freezing; she could still see her breath through the light that remained.

“Do you think this is such a good idea?” Monique asked him, “Putting the furs on the floor? I mean, won’t they get dirty?”

“A lot of things are about to get dirty,” Rick told her, pulling off Monique’s jacket. He tossed it to one side of the pile of furs he’d made on the floor.

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They dozed off to sleep in each other’s arms while buried in the furs. Rick kissed her as she drifted off, curled up to him. She felt so warm against his body.

They slept for a few hours until Rick heard a motion outside the warehouse. He shot up in the fur pile and clamped a hand over Monique’s mouth. There were voices outside and the thin walls of the warehouse did not keep them out. He put one finger to his mouth and as a way to warn Monique not to say or do anything. She understood and nodded.

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