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“I’ll need to look for a place,” I said. “God, I have so much to organise. I need to call my dad...”
My mind was beginning to swim again.
Tully held my face, grounding me. He kissed me softly. “You’re stayin’ with me. Take a spare room if you want. But you’re still eating my arse and doing the prostate thing.”
I snorted just as the radar began to beep again. That low-pressure system rolling in from the north wasn’t slowing down. “There’s a storm coming,” I murmured.
“I know.” He grinned that annoying grin that I was beginning to love. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
~Fin
INTO THE TEMPEST
BLURB
Jeremiah Overton is now in charge of Darwin’s Bureau of Meteorology, and his storm chaser boyfriend, Tully Larson, couldn’t be happier. For Tully, it means watching summer storms with the love of his life, but for Jeremiah, it means relearning everything on equipment that’s older than he is.
But summer storms also mean it’s cyclone season. While Tully’s no stranger to tropical storms and the occasional cyclone, for Jeremiah, it’s a first.
As Tropical Cyclone Hazer bears down on the city, Jeremiah and Tully prepare to stay behind. Jeremiah knows what to expect, theoretically, but living through it is a different story.
If they live through it at all.
CHAPTER ONE
TULLY
I wasnervous waiting for Jeremiah’s plane to land.
Two weeks after being at the Darwin Bureau of Meteorology, he’d made a quick trip back to Melbourne to collect some of his personal belongings, pack up his apartment, and clear out his desk at work.
One night.
He’d been gone for one night and I missed him like crazy. How he’d turned my life upside down in a matter of just a few weeks I’d never know. The first week at the bunker in Kakadu had been awesome, and the two weeks helping him get his new office into some kind of workable space had been fun. But gettin’ to watch afternoon storms with him, havin’ him in my home, and in my bed had been the very best two weeks of my life.
I was besotted with this man, and I was nervous as hell waiting for him. Nervous that he’d get off the plane and tell me he wasn’t staying, that he’d be goin’ back to his old life in Melbourne. That his life was there and not here with me.
I was nervous that he wouldn’t get off the plane at all.
I’d spoken to him this mornin’ when he was on his way to the airport, but a lot coulda happened between then and now, and maybe he’d realised that this was all too much too soon. Maybe he didn’t want to pack up his entire life and move five thousand kilometres away.
Maybe he didn’t feel the same about me as I felt about him.
I was just about ready to puke by the time his flight landed. I noticed a few familiar faces in the terminal and a guy I knew from the bank made an attempt at small talk as he waited for someone to deplane as well.
“Everything okay?” he asked, glancing from me to where people were coming in through the Arrivals door.
“Oh, yeah,” I mumbled distractedly. “Sure, just waitin’...”
Waitin’ for him not to show. Waitin’ for him to break my heart.
He’d nodded and, thankfully, said nothing else. His person arrived, and they left smilin’ and as happy as could be. Everyone else came in greeting their familiar faces, their loved ones, their people. All smiles and hugs and laughter.
And no Jeremiah.
The doors closed and people wheeled out their luggage, leaving my stomach in knots, my heart thumping and heavy. My chest felt all too tight, and that nervousness from before was quickly becoming a sinking realisation that Jeremiah hadn’t got on his flight.
He didn’t want me. He didn’t love me...
