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I can’t let her sit in the school on an emergency cot alone the rest of the night—I’m not a monster, no matter what she thinks. No matter what I try to convince her of.
I know what I’m going to have to do.
“You can stay at my place,” I bite out quickly. “I’m pretty sure I have something that will fit you tonight, and you can use the washer and dryer for your clothes. The place is big enough for both of us. And I’ll have electricity, courtesy of my generator. If the power went out at my place, the generator will have kicked on automatically.” I sound like a rambling imbecile, but the idea of spending the night with her in the same house sets my nerves on fire, and I’d be lying if I tried to convince anyone that it was only in a bad way.
Brandi doesn’t answer, not for a long time. She stands, facing away from me in the brief respite we’re getting from the wind and the rain. Maybe I should just say forget it and— She moves. A small terse nod full of tension.
But she nods all the same.
It’s enough.
“I’ll be in the car.” I get into the cruiser and let her take whatever time she needs to wrap her mind around what’s going to happen. I take a deep breath, squeezing the steering wheel with both hands before I radio dispatch to say I’ll be clear of the latest scene.
I’ll sign off duty once I get home.
While I wait for Brandi, I enter my mileage and information for the work I’ve done since my last check-in. My service phone rings.
“Masterson.”
“Good job with the cleanup, Deputy,” the sheriff says briskly. “How do you feel about overtime this coming week? I need a few hard workers I can trust on the island.”
“Yeah, of course. Sounds good.”
“Great. I’ll see you in a few days then. I think Jake’s coming down to help out too, when the roads clear. But until then, you’re in charge.”
I disconnect the call just as Brandi opens the passenger side door and slides into her seat. She doesn’t look at me, and the sweet pink blossoming on her cheeks whispers to me, begging for my fingers to caress her skin.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll take you up on your offer,” she says, her voice softer than usual, the husky timbre rolling over me.
I start to drive without a word, wondering if I’ve just stepped out of a hurricane and into a volcano.
3
BRANDI
When the tensionbetween us is thick enough that I’m practically choking on it, I finally look at Travis in the dim light offered in the cruiser.
At least he hasn’t said a word about the tears I wasn’t able to hide from him. He didn’t mention them or try to give me shit for crying in the first place. Instead, he gave me something else to concentrate on all afternoon.
I’m not stupid. I know there wasn’t any reason for him to ask me to help.
He was trying to be nice.
Maybe he’s not the jackass that he pretends to be.
Not only that, but he offered me a haven from prying eyes. Somewhere decidedly not public where I could go to sleep.
I want to say something but don’t and instead stare out the window into the darkness. Which means we drive in silence all the way through town, avoiding downed trees and storm damage as we go. It’s so different from the almost comfortable silence that we had while working together earlier.
When he swings into the driveway of a dark-brown house with a white picket fence, I give him a long and admittedly judgmental look. I’d pictured him living in an apartment or a bachelor pad. Something that would show he hasn’t settled in anywhere. Living like some college kid, even though he’s at least in his thirties.
He signs off with dispatch, then opens the door, and I follow him, watching as he walks up to the front door. The outside light shines down on him with golden light, and the faint hum from the generator in the garage chases my ghosts back to the shadows. While he unlocks the door, I look around, and the porch swing slowly creaking in the wind catches my attention. Compared to everything I know about Travis, none of this fits. Even the swing is homey and welcoming and the sort of thing that speaks of long nights, easy comfort with a loved one, the sort of thing I’ll never have.
Travis pushes open the door and steps into the darkened hall inside. While he does, I turn, taking in the view of his property from where I’m standing. He has a tastefully landscaped yard, lush and well maintained, even with branches scattered across the lawn from the storm.
“You comin’?” He sticks his head out the front door and frowns when my eyes lock on his.
He’s staring at me with a strange expression on his face. Seriously, if he were anyone else, I’d almost think it was interest. But not Travis, and not me.
