AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I might not be able to get back here in the morning,” he said. “I’ll bunk on the couch and finish in the morning.”
“I keep repeating myself, but thank you.” She headed down the hall toward her mother’s room.
He flipped off the light, plunging the room into blackness except for the television’s flickering blue light. Rain pounded against the siding and shutters. Gusts of wind rattled the metal.
With his phone, he searched articles on prepping a house for a hurricane.
Shutters. Pull electrical cords. Turn off main. Roll rugs and take them above possible water levels. How high could the water get in a house built on stilts?
He waded through storm surge information. How had a Texan from the Panhandle ended up living in a hurricane zone?
Carolina’s soft footsteps had him looking up.
“How’s your mother?” he asked.
“Sleeping.”
“Good.” He waved her over, holding up his phone. “Can you help me understand what needs to get done before we evacuate?”
She sat next to him. The warm, yeasty scent of beer and her delicate floral perfume had him inhaling to catch more. His body ached to be closer.
He wasn’t Pavlov’s dog. Just because she smelled like the last time they’d made love, didn’t mean they were ever going to be intimate again. But the dull ache filling his belly sharpened to cutting pain.
“What are you looking at?” she asked.
Their eyes met and every thought vanished.
“Sage?”
He shook his head, trying to block out the way she smelled, the way she looked. He needed to ignore the heat rolling off her skin. “Um, getting the house ready for tomorrow. What normally happens?”
“I don’t know.” She tucked her lower lip between her teeth.
His chest tightened. “Let’s…let’s go through this.”
She leaned over his shoulder.
His breath exploded from his lungs. This was torture. It was like they were a couple—but they weren’t.
They read the article and a couple of others.
“I think we should bring the porch furniture in,” she said.
“Agreed.”
Carolina looked around the room. “Mamá’s going to be upset if she sees it.”
“Maybe upstairs?” That sounded ridiculous, but not stressing out Rosa was key to avoiding seizures.
“Yes.”
“Let’s do it.” He pushed off the sofa and offered her a hand.
Her fingers laced with his and, like the clang of the corral gate, the connection he’d been missing locked in place.
Her eyes were dark and deep. With so little light in the room, her pupils were huge.
He broke away first. They had work to do.
He blocked open the main door and flipped on the porch light. While Carolina rolled small rugs, he unplugged the lamp. “Where should I take them?”
“My bedroom.”
He carried the lamp and a small wicker table up to Carolina’s room. Then they grabbed chairs and cushions, and made the trip two more times.
They stared at the hanging swing set in the corner. She sighed. “We should take this down.”
He reached up to the hooks, but the ceiling was too high.
“Hang on.” She rushed into the house and came back with the kitchen stool. It was enough for him to stand on his toes to unhook the chains. Then they jockeyed it up the stairs.
Furniture filled her bedroom. They wedged the swing next to the far side of the bed, then had to roll over the mattress to escape.
Carolina went first. He waited, then imitated her rolling motion and came face-to-face with her. She hadn’t climbed off the bed. She lay there. Her eyes closed.
“You’re exhausted.” He brushed at the curls scattered over her face. Her scent wrapped around him, pulling him closer.
Remove your hand.
But his head couldn’t force his hand to obey. He cupped her cheek and stared into her bottomless blue eyes. He could drown in the pool looking back at him. Her throat muscles worked up and down.
He stared at her lips. They were so close her breath was a feather on his skin.
She sighed. “You wanted to talk?”
No. He wanted to kiss her. Bury his body in hers and forget who she was and what she’d done. “It’ll wait.”
His head took control. Finally. He couldn’t kiss her lips, but he brushed one on her forehead. “Get some sleep.”
He scooted off the bed and ran from temptation. At least one of them should get some sleep. He’d spend the night thinking about Carolina and trying to walk a mile in her boots.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CAROLINA PEERED INTO the dark living room. Was Sage awake?
Last night, he’d kissed her. On the forehead. Like she was a child. What did that mean? Knowing Sage was in the house had kept her awake and edgy. Once she’d finally fallen asleep, she’d awakened to the neighbor hammering plywood on the windows next door.
