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He’d pulled on a shirt at some point, and now he slipped his shoes on and pushed out through the front door. Curious, she followed—though she stopped on the deck and moved to the side, so she could see him without getting wet.
The generator was apparently round at the side of the house. She peeked around the wall, and more specifically at him. Rain was lashing against him; he was saturated. His clothes were plastered to his body, his hair a dark pelt against his head. He moved confidently, his fingers testing the switches in a box.
He shook his head, his eyes scanning the house before resting on her. ‘It’s the generator.’
She nodded. Wasn’t that what he’d said he’d fix?
He moved closer, standing just beneath her and shouting so she could hear him above the aggressive storm. ‘The generator is over there.’ He nodded towards a small structure she hadn’t noticed before. ‘There’s a key in the kitchen. Would you get it?’
‘Yes. Where?’
‘In the drawer with the cutlery.’
She nodded, already moving back into the house. She located it easily and jogged back to the deck. But instead of handing it to him she skipped down the steps. The rain hit her like a wall. Within seconds she was as saturated as he.
He swore under his breath. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Helping.’ She handed him the key and he took it with a small shake of his head.
‘Go inside! I don’t need help.’
She compressed her lips and turned her back on him. She didn’t go inside, though. She picked her way over the muddy ground, towards the timber construction he’d indicated.
She waited for him, so wet that she barely felt the rain now. But it was still hammering into her, enormous drops falling thick and fast.
‘Fine.’ He spoke loudly, but she still had to lean forward to catch his words. ‘Seeing as you’re here, hold the door open for me.’
He crouched down and unlocked a padlock, then pushed at the slatted door. She hooked her fingers over the top and pulled it wide, holding it even as the wind grew and tried to pull it away from her.
He leaned further into the box, his hands pushing at various things, and Tilly wondered how the heck he knew what he was doing. Or maybe he didn’t, and he was going to break the generator and they’d have to leave the island.
The idea pulled at her in a strange way. She hadn’t wanted to come away for a week, and yet now, four days in, she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving. Was that all it took? Four days? Four days to become so hooked on someone that the idea of waking up without knowing you were going to see them filled you with despair?
He stood up again, pulling the door out of her grip and slamming it shut. He locked it and then nodded towards the house.
He didn’t speak until they were on the deck, drenched and dripping. The rain was just as loud there, though, the roof doing little to block out the sound.
‘Something’s fried it. Could have been the lightning. Could have been an animal running scared. I’ve rebooted it, so with any luck it will be on ag
ain in a few hours.’
A shiver ran down her spine. ‘And if it’s not?’
‘We’re stuck here until the storm passes. We will just have to make do.’
Stuck here. In a dark cabin. With Rio. All she needed was candles and music and she’d be about ready to step straight into fantasy.
‘There are some candles in the bathroom,’ he said, thinking aloud, his eyes scanning her face. ‘You need to get dry.’
‘So do you,’ she pointed out belligerently.
‘You are shivering.’
‘I know.’ She nodded, her teeth chattering together.
‘Go. Get dry.’
‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.
