by Rachel Magee
This couldn’t be happening.
She turned back to Braxton. “I…I don’t even have a hurricane preparedness plan.” It was a dumb thing to say. Of course a storm didn’t care if she had a plan or not. But at the moment, it was the only thing she could think of.
Braxton gently rubbed her arms, sending the slightest hint of comfort cascading over her. It wasn’t enough to calm the nerves playing ping-pong inside her mind, but it was enough to slow them down so she could form a coherent thought.
“You do now. Step one is move everything you can inside and secure the rest. Step two, I’ll start pulling out your shutters so we can board the windows.”
Move everything inside. Right. She could do that. She nodded her head once, focusing on the tools she had dragged out to repair the fountain. She could start there. “How long do we have?”
“Eight hours.”
“Eight hours?” Her words came out louder and slightly more screechy than she’d intended, and there was probably a horrified look on her face. How could they possibly get everything ready in eight hours?
Her eyes darted around her yard as she created a mental list of everything that needed to be accomplished in that time. Were the ancient hurricane shutters even functional? The ones on the front of the house had taken almost a day of work to fix, and that was just a drop in the bucket compared to the number of glass doors and windows along the back and sides of the house.
Millie sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Panic never helped anything. If that was all the time they had, she was going to need every second of it to get things ready. “So eight hours, huh? I guess we’ll be ready in eight hours.”
“Not exactly. The eye is forecasted to make landfall in eight hours. The actual storm will hit before that. Maybe five or six hours.” His hands slid down her arms until he took her hands in his. “But it’s enough time. We can get it done.”
She highly doubted that but arguing with him seemed like a moot point. It was all they had. “Okay, so six hours. And then we evacuate?”
He paused before answering as if weighing his words. “Well, no.” He looked in the direction of his house. “To evacuate we’d have to leave now.”
A fresh wave of fear swept over her. “But don’t we have to? What about the storm? What about Alice and Henry?” Admittedly, she didn’t know much about hurricanes except they were massive storms that caused major destruction and people fled from them in droves. Staying was risky, especially when living right on the coast with the beach as your backyard, wasn’t it?
“I spoke with Alice’s grandparents in Atlanta. They’re totally safe and happy to watch her as long as needed. And Memory Care is at a high spot on the island, which means there’s little risk for flooding. And they’re taking all the necessary steps to fortify it from the wind.”
That news calmed some of the fears racing through her, which were causing her mind to spin at a rate that made it hard to focus. But there was still one concern that made her blood feel like it had turned to ice water. “What about us?”
Braxton’s words came out calm and confident. “My house is made of solid concrete and my hurricane impact windows are tested to withstand winds far stronger than anything this storm will throw at us. After we board up your house, we’ll ride the storm out at my place.”
“But…”
He squeezed her hands and gazed deep into her eyes with a look of confidence that felt as strong as the concrete that made up his house. “We’re going to be fine. We’ve got this.”
And there was that word again. We.
When she moved here six weeks ago, she was determined the only “we” in her very long-term future would be referring to her and Bear. She, the Lowcountry version of herself, was a solo act. Even when her heart did the tango the first time she met her once-famous neighbor with the hypnotic blue eyes, she was determined this chapter in her story would be only about her.
But things had changed. Over the weeks of getting to know him, of working side by side with him, her me started shifting to we.
It was a scary realization, because her past failed relationships had left the deepest scars in her life. She didn’t want that to happen again. Doing life on her own was the safer option. But what if it wasn’t the better option?
Yes, falling for Braxton was a risk. And if life had taught her anything, it was that there were no guarantees. But right now, when the storm was threatening to destroy everything, we was giving her the strength to move forward.
“Okay.” She nodded with a new determination. Pushing the noise out of her mind, she focused on what needed to be done. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Seventeen
Millie remembered the days when six hours was a long chunk of time. In fact, back when she spent the majority of her waking hours as a cubicle jockey, there were several days it seemed two o’clock would never come. However, today, when she needed every second she could get, the minutes ticked by in double time.
At first it was hard to imagine a massive storm was coming in their direction. The sky was a bright blue with big, fluffy clouds. By the time noon rolled around, she was a hot, sweaty mess and silently questioning if all the prep work was for nothing.
Braxton had left at around one o’clock with Bear to get his house ready which, considering that was going to be their safe haven for the duration of the storm, she was more than willing to let him do.
Around that same time, gray clouds had started to move in. These storm clouds were different than anything she had seen before. They weren’t the large and heavy kind that slowly rolled in and settled in place until they dumped their inches of snow or rain. These clouds were lighter, nimbler, and swept across the sky from the south to the north, bringing with them sudden gusts of wind and random spatterings of rain. Then they’d disappear out to sea, like a scout going back to report the enemy’s position.
Then, at two o’clock, almost exactly six hours from when Braxton had pulled into her driveway that morning, the storm rolled in.
Millie wasn’t sure “rolled in” was the right term when one was referring to a hurricane. “Blew in” would be a better description, because instead of falling straight down from the sky, the rain blew sideways, sneaking in through any corner not shut tight. She only had two sets of French doors left to shutter when the raindrops started pelting her, stinging her skin. She turned and glared at the sky. “Back off. If you were in such a hurry to get here, you should’ve let us know sooner.”
As if in response, a sudden gust blasted her. In frustration, she banged with all her might against the metal track the ancient hurricane shutter was supposed to slide into. Millie wasn’t sure of the last time someone had boarded up this house for a hurricane, but the combination of time and the salt air had done a number to the hardware that held the shutters in place. With two out of thirty-two sets of shutters left, she hadn’t come across one yet that hadn’t needed some sort of repair. With all the other repairs she’d done to the house, this shouldn’t be surprising, but it was about time she caught a break, wasn’t it? And if her house wasn’t going to give it to her, she was going to need the weather to do her a solid.
“Like I said.” She banged the hammer against the metal with all her might, trying to force the opening wide enough to allow the shutter to slide in. “Not. Yet.” With the last swing of her hammer, the metal gave way and widened enough for the shutter.
“Finally.” She tucked the hammer into her toolbelt and hoisted up the giant door-sized shutter, sliding it into the track. She locked it into place, then turned to survey the ocean. Angry white-capped waves careened through a murky sea before crashing onto the shore, each one washing farther up the sand than the one before it.
Millie stood on the second-story exterior walkway and watched it, both mystified and terrified at the same time. Sweat dripped off her forehead and soaked through her shirt
while she stood in awe of the power of nature.
“I’m almost done,” she whispered to the winds. “Please, just a few more minutes.”
Without waiting for a response, she moved down the walkway to the next door, and in less than ten minutes she was locking the last shutter into place. She hurried down the exterior stairs. Grabbing the overnight bag she’d left under the covered porch, she headed through her courtyard on her way to Braxton’s house. It wasn’t until she got to the gate that she paused to take one last look at her house.
She stood there, trying to burn this picture of the fresh paint job and newly refinished pool deck into her mind as a single tear ran down her cheek. She had no idea what tomorrow had in store for her, but she wanted to remember that she’d done it. When faced with an impossible challenge, she, Millie Leclair, had laughed in the face of adversity and conquered the impossible.
“Godspeed,” she whispered to the house and blew it one last kiss. Then she crossed the boardwalk on the way to whatever the future had in store for her.
As she trudged through the sand, a sudden blast of wind slammed against her. She slowed to a stop and widened her stance to keep from being knocked down. A loud crash caught her attention, and she turned in time to see a massive palm frond drop to the ground somewhere to the right. Fear raced through her as she scanned the sky. The raw power of nature was relentless. The rain beat against her face and the angry waves crashed onto the shore. She had to get out of the danger zone. She had to get to Braxton’s house.
With a new determination, she pulled the hood of her raincoat over her head, leaned into the wind, and headed toward his boardwalk. Fixing her gaze on the ground, she moved forward one step at a time. More crashing sounds rang out around her as the waves drove closer to her feet, but she focused on one thing. Braxton. She just needed to get to Braxton.
“Millie!”
At first she thought she’d imagined it or that perhaps the storm was taunting her, but after hearing it a third time, Millie looked up. Braxton was jogging down the beach in her direction.
In the middle of the storm, with the wind bearing down on her and an angry ocean raging at her side, an overwhelming warmth surged inside Millie. There wasn’t anything that she wanted more than to be in Braxton’s arms. She could face whatever this storm—or life—threw at her if she had him by her side.
And even more amazing was that thought didn’t even scare her. In fact, it actually calmed her.
She picked up her pace, jogging, then running toward him. For the first time since she found out about the storm, she was oblivious to what was going on around her. The only thing she was focused on at the moment was the man in front of her.
“I finished,” she panted. “It’s all—”
But before she could even finish her sentence, he slid his hands behind her head. With his thumbs caressing her cheeks, he leaned down and kissed her.
It was deep and full of desire, with an energy that reverberated through her body, causing everything around her to fade away. The storm, her fears, all the questions about being with Braxton that had raced through her mind over the past few weeks just melted away. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
Rain fell all around them, but in his arms she didn’t care.
When she finally took a breath, she looked up at him. He flashed one of his charming grins that made her feel all woozy inside.
Or maybe it was the kiss that made her feel woozy.
“I have something to tell you.” He brushed a strand of dripping wet hair out of her eyes and tucked it inside her rain jacket hood. “I…”
It was her turn to cut him off. “I like you,” she blurted out over the howling wind and the rain dripping down her cheeks. It probably wasn’t the most eloquent way to tell him how she felt, but the truth just sort of burst out of her.
There was something warm and friendly in his eyes. “I was going to say my house is secured and that Bear and I are waiting for you.” He shrugged. “But I kind of like what you said better.”
His arm snaked around her back and pulled her close. He rested his forehead against hers, stroking her cheek with his other thumb. “Also, for the record, me too.”
The words swirled through her, making her feel warm and giddy, even as the cold rain dripped onto her. “This could get complicated.”
The warning was as much for her as for him.
“You’re always telling me I need to take more risks in my life.”
“True.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his again. This time, the kiss was slower and gentler, but almost more powerful. It flowed through her, setting every sense on fire. Kissing him was rapidly becoming her new favorite hobby. She didn’t know exactly where this thing between them was going, but at the moment she didn’t care.
Right here was good enough for now.
Another crash from somewhere behind Braxton had them jumping apart. Braxton wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. She searched through the wind and the sideways rain clouding the air in front of them for the source of the latest destruction, a shudder of fear edging in on her euphoric glow.
Okay, so maybe right here didn’t mean this exact location.
“It’s getting bad out here,” Braxton said, his eyes darting around as if taking in the dangers for the first time. “What do you say we finish this conversation inside?”
“Conversation?”
Braxton’s eyes sparkled. “We can finish other things, too.”
With his arm around her shoulders, they ducked into the wind and jogged across his boardwalk to his gate.
His house looked different. With all of the patio furniture gone and the normally overflowing infinity pool drained to three quarters of its capacity, his house looked cold and vacant. But at the moment, it had never been more inviting to her.
They raced for the door, stepping inside as another large gust of wind blasted them. Braxton pushed the door closed and locked both dead bolts, drowning out the storm and securing them inside.
Braxton slid out of his jacket and hung it on a rack next to the door, positioning a towel on the floor under it to catch the runoff. He held his hand out to Millie, and she shrugged hers off, trying not to splatter water everywhere. The whole time she kept her gaze locked with Braxton’s, the heat between them building.
Once both jackets were hung up, Braxton placed both hands on her hips and pulled her toward him. “So, where were we?”
“You were saying something about how you feel.”
“Oh right. That. Let’s see, I think it went something like this.”
A thrill rushed through her as he bent down to kiss her again. But this time they were interrupted by the muffled sound of his phone ringing in his pocket.
Part of her wanted to ignore it. Even if it was an emergency, what could either one of them possibly do about it until the storm passed? For the next couple of hours, they’d be locked inside the safety of Braxton’s house. Of course, she had in mind a few things they could do to kill the time. But a tiny voice kept nagging her.
“You going to get that?” she asked between kisses.
“Look who has become the cautious one now.” Braxton’s look smoldered through her. “But if it’s nothing, I’m leaving my phone in here and taking you someplace more comfortable.”
The idea of that sent sparks sizzling through her. “Deal.”
He slid his phone far enough out of his pocket to be able to read the message on the screen. Then Braxton tensed up. He took another step away from her and pulled his phone all the way out of his pocket. Hitting a button on the screen, he held the phone up to his ear.
“Hey, Veronica. What’s wrong?”
He stared straight ahead as if concentrating on the words being spoken on the other side of the phone. His brow furrowed with concer
n.
“Already?” With each question, the playful passion that had just been dancing on his face was replaced with rigid concern.
Finally, he grabbed his car keys and, with an apologetic glance at Millie, said the words that sent a shudder of fear through her.
“I’m on my way.”
Chapter Eighteen
“A tree just fell on the mechanical building at Summer Island Memory Care Home and took out their backup generator.” Braxton reported this to Millie as he grabbed his dripping raincoat off the rack where he’d hung it. He tossed it over his arm, not paying any attention to the water he was flinging around.
“Oh, no. That’s awful.” Millie trailed behind him as he crossed the house. “Can they fix it before they lose power?”
“Not in this storm. And since several of their residents require medical equipment that needs electricity, they can’t be without a backup plan.”
He opened the door to the interior staircase that led to the ground-floor garage. His mind spun with the possibilities of what might happen if the power went out before he could get there. Flipping on the light, he trotted down the steps.
“So what are they going to do?” Millie followed him down, a hint of fear in her voice.
“They’re gathering as many portable generators as they can find. They have one but it’ll take two just to run everything that’s medically necessary.”
He strolled over to where the first of his two generators was set up, ready to be turned on when the power went out. When this system was designed right after they moved in, he was sure the two generators, each located in his two different garages, was overkill, especially since part of his house ran on the power from solar panels anyway. Would there ever be a time when he lost both solar power and city power and still needed to run every single thing in his entire house?
