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Orlie stares at me. “You can’t be serious.”
“This was all a mistake,” I say and shrug off his touch, rounding the car to the driver’s seat. “I should have turned right back around when we realized there had been some miscommunication between Amy and Hunter and –”
“You’re not going out in this storm. Wait until tomorrow at least. I won’t stop you, but there’s no way I’m –”
“Orlie, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions.”
His T-shirt is soaked through, showing off the brilliant curves of his pecs, the bumps of his nipples. Dear god, I’d love to tear it off him.
In another life, maybe.
“Of course you can, but this is insane! Do you know what Hunter would do to me if I let you go out there like –”
“Not my problem,” I say with finality and get in the car.
I’m chilled to the bone, but to hell with it. Once I get off this fucking mountain, then I can deal with being cold. I turn on the car, flick on the high beams, and start out of the driveway.
Orlie stands and watches. Totally creepy. I try not to give him one last glance as I head down the long private drive, back to the highway. My heart is already feeling lighter as I leave Orlie in my wake. I’ll deal with the fallout once we’re both back at work.
If my calculations are correct, there won’tbeany fallout. Orlie and I will go back to the way things have been since…well, since forever. We can ignore what happened between us and just go about our lives. Keep our heads down, do our work and –
I stomp on the brake when I reach the wooden bridge. Because there’s no bridge to be seen. If I were to continue driving, my car would tip into a torrent of rushing muddy water that was barely a trickling stream when I arrived.
I clutch my chest and take some breaths. That could have been bad if I’d let my thoughts spiral any further out of control.
And then it dawns on me…
I have to go back. Unless I want to sleep in my car where I’m frozen to the bone and don’t have any food and just wait out this storm for god knows how long.
Which means going back like a puppy with its tail between its legs to Orlie Wynters.
How fucking embarrassing.
I slamthe door to signify my arrival. Orlie nonchalantly emerges from the kitchen, running a towel through his hair. “You’re back.”
“The bridge is out.”
“I heard.”
I furrow my brow. “And you just let me –”
“It just came on the radio, relax,” Orlie says and retreats back into the kitchen.
Through the pound of rain on the roof, I can hear the staticky voice on the radio. “Stay off the roads, stay away from windows, and get ready for a long couple of days, folks.”
I pull my suitcase back into the front hall and then curse. It’s soaking wet. I don’t want to pull it through the house, back to my room.
“Here.”
I get a face full of towel a second later.
“Sorry, thought you were ready.”
It’s dry and warm. As if Orlie has just pulled it out of the dryer for me. “Thanks,” I grumble.
“My pleasure.”
Yeah, right.
