Page 51 of Mr. B

“I didn’t barge.”

He closed her door, then went to his room and dried off. As he got dressed, he considered whether to talk to her some more. “Just leave it alone.”

Wes got into bed, punched the pillow a few times, then pulled the blanket up. A few minutes later, he kicked the blanket off. When that made him too cold, he pulled the blanket to his waist and stuck a foot out.

The image of Wes’ bare chest floated through Cassandra’s mind, and she rolled onto her side. “Stop it.” What is wrong with you? The man wants nothing to do with you. She returned to her back and stared at the ceiling. It was too dark to see, except when a bolt of lightning lit up the room, but she knew there was a crack in the drywall that zigzagged across it right over the bed. There were a few more on the walls, and the floor creaked when she walked across it. The cabin had definitely seen better days.

Wes had always been a runner and was in good shape in college, but he was leaner then. Now. “Oh my gosh, stop.” She sat up and wrestled with her blankets again. “So much for bathroom rules. He can’t follow one simple rule? Lock the damn door.” She blew out a breath. “Barging? I did not—”

It sounded like twigs breaking. A lot of twigs. Big twigs. Then the sky literally fell on her. Other than the twigs, it was completely silent as parts of the ceiling dropped into the mattress along with water, leaves, and debris from the roof. So, the sound that brought Wes barging through the bathroom door must’ve come from her. The first thing through her mind was, now that’s barging.

He stopped mid-step. “Shit.”

When she looked at him, she realized her bed had collapsed under the weight of broken 2x4s, shingles, plaster, and insulation. Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky above her as rain fell through the three-foot hole.

She glared at him, and he moved toward her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know. I’m covered with…ceiling.”

He went to the bed, removed a soggy piece of insulation from her legs, and took her arm. “Let me get you out of there.” He helped her off the collapsed bed and moved her several feet away from the wet mess. “What happened?”

She looked at him. “The roof caved in.”

“I see that. How are you not hurt?” He looked her over, and she stepped away from him.

“I’m fine.” She brushed at some leaves clinging to her wet shirt.

He smiled, and she shoved him. “Sorry. It’s just so weird.”

She shoved him again. “I could’ve been killed.”

“Right. But you weren’t.” He pulled a couple of leaves out of her hair.

She looked at her wet pajamas and T-shirt, suddenly realizing she was sharing a lot more than she wanted to with him. She folded her arms across her chest.

Wes moved closer to the mess and looked up at the hole. “Damn.”

She shivered. “How…”

He moved in front of her again, putting his hands on her arms. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to get your things and move them into my room. Everything in here is going to get soaked.”

His voice was hollow and sounded far away. “Move my things?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my gosh, I need to move my things.” She rubbed her head, which was ringing, then stepped back from him and went to the closet to get her suitcases. She set them on the dresser and began calmly taking her things out of the drawers.

“Um…wow. Can we speed this up?”

“What?”

He opened another drawer, grabbed the contents, and stared at them when he realized they were her underwear. “Okay. I didn’t see that coming.” He looked at her. “Are you dating someone?”

“No.” She grabbed the black lace underwear from him and dropped it in the suitcase. “Mind your own business.”