“These aren’t going to stop much water,” the pretty redhead pointed out.
“Hopefully they won’t have to.” Leila pointed at the front door, to the puddle that had seeped inside and was slowly spreading. “We just want to block it from getting in. If it gets much worse, they won’t hold anyway, but we have to do what we can.”
Ryan grabbed another bundle of bags. “I think we can put them down, then set those mats I found on top—weigh them down a bit more. Plus, the rubber backing will help waterproof them. The bags are the best shot we have.”
Faux-Hawk flicked one of the bags—the most actual prep work he’d done thus far. “They don’t look like much. They’re all lumpy and uneven.”
“They don’t have to be pretty—they just have to stop water from getting in,” Leila snapped, longing to stuff a cloth into Faux-Hawk’s big mouth. It wasn’t that he didn’t shut up, it was that whenever he did talk, it was like a fountain spewing inane bullshit.
Ryan continued as if Faux-Hawk hadn’t spoken. “If there was any duct tape kicking around, we could use that as well.”
Wallace nodded. “Wouldn’t hold if there was much force, but for small leaks it would work.”
“Exactly. I didn’t see any in the boiler room. Ronna—”
“I’m on it.” Ronna rummaged in a drawer, and came back with a roll of pink leopard print patterned duct tape. Wallace raised an eyebrow, and Ronna shrugged. “Practical and decorative.”
“Suits you.”
Leila glanced at Ryan to see if he’d noticed Wallace and Ronna’s flirting. His expression was guarded instead of amused like she expected. There was a story there, but Leila didn’t care to open that book—she’d already fondled it last night, and that was as deep as she wanted to go with Ryan Benton. His issues were none of her business. Watching couples flirt made him uncomfortable, though he certainly knew his way around the female body.
His mouth hardened, and Leila wanted to smooth the frown from his forehead. Who broke his heart and made him this way? Maybe his heart wasn’t broken at all—maybe he’d always been that way. But he hadn’t. When they’d gone to high school, he’d been lighter. Freer. God, he’d been an amazingly fun pain in her ass. The guy you didn’t notice you’d gravitated toward at the party until you realized he was smiling down at you.
“So, Leila, you’re from here?”
Leila nodded at Ronna. “My family moved here when I was in high school.”
“Can’t say I’ve seen you around town recently, though.”
“No, I pretty much moved away right after I graduated.” And her tires left a burning trail of rubber on the road as her car screamed down the highway away from Silver Springs.
Her middle finger may have made an appearance.
“You’re back in town visiting family?” Ronna prompted further.
“My dad—Allan Spencer—got remarried yesterday.”
“That’s right, to Maggie Davis!”
The joy of small towns. At least she didn’t have to explain who everyone was.
Ronna squinted. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look nothing like your brother or father.”
“I know. I take after Mom’s Polynesian side. Kyle’s all Dad’s Irish coloring. He burns as soon as the sun thinks about rising. People used to look at him and Dad, and ask who the mother was!”
“I’m glad your dad and Maggie tied the knot. I know her more than I know him, but he really makes her happy. Not enough of that in this world.” Her gaze wandered out the window, and she sighed. “It’s a damned shame. And then all of this.”
“Yeah. They got rained out of the park and had to move to the hotel. It’s crazy this has happened.”
“Flood aside, were you staying in town long?”
“No. Just for the wedding and a few days after.” Leila felt Ryan’s stare as if it were a heat lamp shining at her face as she answered Ronna’s question. “I was house sitting while they’re on their honeymoon.” Her breath left her. The house. She hadn’t even thought about its condition. A strange humming sound filled her head.
It wasn’t that she’d spent a lot of years in that house, but the memories had been good ones. Her parents had been together in that house. She’d spent her most formative teenage years there. While she’d left the town and never looked back, the thought of her old house not being there, not being okay, left her reeling.
“Leila? What is it?” Ryan moved to the chair next to her and leaned close.
“The house. It hadn’t occurred to me that it might not be okay in this.” She gestured at the water. Everyone’s gazes followed her hand, and their expressions showed Leila that the thought of their houses being anything other than dry and safe hadn’t occurred to them either.
Ronna shook her head. “My house has never flooded. The thought never entered my mind that it might have been effected. But maybe it has. There’s a river here where the road was. How far does it go? How many houses are flooded that have never flooded before?”
They all stared out the window, contemplating the river that may or may not be sending water into their homes as they sat and did nothing.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ryan didn’t have a lot to lose at home. Mel had taken everything of value, and the rest he’d thrown out, unable to look at any of it without filling with anger and resentment. His house was spartan, and anything left with any sentimental value, he stored in the attic in a small blue plastic tub. It would be safe even if he flooded. But the realization that his house could flood and it wouldn’t be a big loss was unsettling.
He had nothing that he was really worried about, other than his friends—the guys—at the station. He cared about the town as well, but that was in a different way. When had he disengaged so much that his existence was so shallow it could be wiped out and he’d be okay? This was his life? Floating along with no real roots?
Needing some space from the group, he went to the men’s room. Midstream, Wallace walked in and took up the other urinal. Ryan finished and moved to wash his hands. Wallace joined Ryan at the sink and met his gaze in the mirror. “You all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good. You know the lights are going to go out, right?”
Ryan nodded and kept his voice quiet to match Wallace’s. The door was closed, but Ryan didn’t trust Faux-Hawk not to be skulking outside, eavesdropping. “Yeah. I’m surprised the power’s still on to be honest.”
“It won’t be for long. They’ll go out, and we’ll be in the dark. People will get cold. Hungry.”
“It’s easier to be an asshole on an empty stomach.”
Wallace’s lips quirked. “Easier to panic too.”
“You want to talk to Ronna about the situation? On the down low of course.”
“See about getting some grub while we’re still able to cook it.”
“Yes.”
“I could do that.” He bounced on his heels and headed out the door. Ryan lingered and splashed some cold water on his face. His eyes burned, his skin felt too tight, and he could barely think. I wish I’d gotten more sleep last night. The reason for his lack of sleep paraded through his mind; he remembered the sounds Leila made when he was inside her, as vividly as if they were in bed. That had been an amazing time. I wish we were there, seeing how loud I could make her moan, instead of stuck here.
He checked his phone again and fought the urge to smash it when there were still no messages. He wasn’t used to sitting around waiting for help to come to him. Waiting to be rescued felt foreign and wrong and chafed at him like a sandpaper massage. Ryan was the one people relied on when they were in trouble. His friends, his coworkers were out there putting themselves in danger to fix the situation while he sat around doing nothing. He wanted to get the hell out there and help, but there were five lives in his hands, not including his own. He couldn’t abandon them no matter how awful it felt to be waiting around, even if help was on its way.
So he pushed out of the men’s room
and made damn sure to wear a neutral expression.
Ronna shot Wallace a look before smiling at Ryan. “You much for cooking?”
“I make a kickass bachelor burger. Beyond that, I’m pretty useless. Why?”
“Figured we might as well cook something, feed everyone. It is after lunch. I’m not much of a cook, but I think we’d all be fine with burgers?” She looked at the rest of the group who nodded enthusiastically.
So now, instead of being out there with the rest of the station, he’d be sitting around making burgers. At least they’d all be fed. He smiled. “Guess the role of chef will be played by me today.”
Ronna clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. It’s not a big fancy commercial kitchen, so you should be able to work some magic. The fries are on a timer, so you’ll be good on the deep fryer too. Leila will show you the way.”
Leila’s head snapped up. “Why me?”
“You know where it is.”
“I wasn’t snooping around when we looked for the bags, you know.”
“And I’ve been on my feet since four this morning.” Ronna rubbed her lower back. “I’m no spring chicken.”
“Please. You could run circles around me. You just want to flirt with your new boyfriend.” Leila winked at Wallace, who, for once, had nothing to say. “Fine, I’ll go.” She stood and looked at Ryan. “Follow me.”
He tried not to look at her ass on the way. Tried and failed.
The kitchen really wasn’t anything fancy. Except for the deep fryer and commercial flat top, it looked pretty much like any other kitchen. Glitters wasn’t a restaurant/bar, but they did have some pub food to soak up the beer in their patrons’ bellies.
Leila opened the freezer. “So you’re cool with doing burgers? There are some frozen patties here. We can jazz them up a bit with some herbs or greens.” She pulled a bag of something leafy and green out of the fridge. “Arugula.”
“Is that good?”
“Yeah, better than lettuce. It’s sort of peppery.”
He turned on the flat top. It was just button operated—even easier than his barbeque at home. “I’m more of a meat and potatoes guy. Not so hip on the fancy greens.”
She smiled. “I only know about it because I watch a lot of cooking shows. Not that I cook—” she held her hands up. “But I can’t leave you here all on your own to cook for everyone.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you came.”
He realized the double meaning of his words when she blushed and faced the fridge again, not looking at him while she talked. “What’s your favorite cut of steak?”
He washed his hands. “Rib eye.”
“Mine too. Did you know it’s because of cooking shows that it’s gotten so expensive? People were all about the tenderloin, and rib eye used to be super cheap. Then cooking shows ran around praising its deliciousness, people got curious and started snapping it up.”
“Ah, and so they started charging more for the previously humble rib eye.”
“Yup.” She pulled some cheese out of the fridge and set it on the counter. “There’s stuff in there that I’m sure we could make an amazing aioli out of.”
Ryan was impressed. “What’s an aioli?”
“I don’t know, but I hear about them a lot, and sure wish I knew how to make one.” Her grin made him want to back her against the counter and taste her lips.
Instead, he walked to the freezer and pulled the patties out while she washed and dried her hands. “Sounds a bit too cultured for Silver Springs anyway.”
“That’s for sure.” Her voice held a tone that hadn’t been there before.
“You really hate it here?” He kept his voice mild.
She pulled a knife from a magnet holder on the wall and grabbed cheese from the counter. “I don’t hate it. I used to, I guess.”
“You haven’t been here for a while. Things change.”
“Small towns never change. A hundred years from now there will still be all the same things that drove me nuts about it.” She sliced pieces of cheese from the marbled wedge. “Everyone knowing everything about you before it happens.”
“Community.”
“Serious lack of amenities.”
“Less traffic.”
She turned to him. “Look, I know you may love it here, but it’s just not my thing. It’s good for retirees and that’s about it.”
“If you just look for the bad, that’s all you’ll find. But who am I to argue with the lady with the knife?”
***
Leila looked down. She wasn’t exactly brandishing the knife at him, but in another situation it would have been a little threatening. She turned back to the cheese, wishing it was something that could be chopped angrily, rather than sliced carefully. As far as venting frustrations with a knife went, cheddar was sub optimal.
“I’m just saying small towns aren’t for everyone. I’m better suited for … ” Well, Leila wasn’t crazy about the frantic pace of the city. No, Leilani wasn’t crazy about it. Who knew how Leila would feel about it? Things had changed this weekend.
“Better suited for?” Ryan prompted, laying out hamburger patties on the flat top with a sizzle.
She dug around in the fridge and found a jar of dill pickles. “Something bigger. Something more. Do you know what it was like growing up in a town when I was the ‘one of these things is not like the others’ kid?” She began slicing the pickles.
“Your brother—”
“Looks white. I’m not saying it was awful, or I was picked on.”
“Except that time Julia Fairfield called you a chink, and you kicked her in the stomach.”
Leila set the knife down. “You remember that?”
“It was awesome. We may not be the cultural elite, but most of us aren’t redneck assholes. You beat a lot of people to the punch by putting her in her place.”
“I shouldn’t have hit her though. I’m not a violent person.”
He grabbed a spatula and leaned against the counter, watching her. “No, but you were standing up for yourself. You also gave a little speech about ethnic backgrounds and cultural heritage while she was on the ground crying, if I remember correctly.”
“I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I noticed you. You stood out.”
“That’s just it.” She started arranging the pickles on a plate. “I stood out when I should have just been another girl. I was never able to be lost in the crowd.”
“Is that really what you wanted?”
“Sometimes. Yes.”
His eyes raked from her feet to her eyes. “That’s what you still want?”
She fought the urge to cross her arms and hide, then found she wanted him to look. “Things change.” And no one was more surprised than she was.
They finished cooking and preparing the meal in silence, and carried it out to the others in a couple trips. While they were cooking, the rest of the group had pushed two tables together so everyone could eat together. Leila noticed they’d positioned the table so no one faced the windows. Despite feeling like she should avoid him, Leila found herself taking the chair next to Ryan. Thanks, libido. But it wasn’t just her libido. She worried less about the flood when Ryan was near. He was a fabulous distraction. His body radiated warmth, and her skin tingled, waiting for a touch that wouldn’t come.
At least the burgers were delicious and the fries crispy. Sitting with the rest of the group, eating their food in silence felt so mundane, so normal, that giggles rose in Leila, and try as she might to suppress them, they escaped. We’re having burgers and fries while we’re surrounded by water four feet deep! It was so stereotypically American. She stared at her plate and laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. They must think I’ve lost my fragile little mind.
From the corner of her eye, she caught Ryan shaking. He was laughing too! They all were, she realized, as she looked around the table. Ronna snorted, and Wallace laughed so hard no sound came out. Red laughed, but looked shocked to be laug
hing, which made Leila laugh harder. Faux-Hawk laughed like he didn’t get the joke. Leila didn’t get it either, but damn it felt good to laugh.
“What a crazy fucking day.” Leila wiped her eyes on a napkin. “Whatever the hell that was.”
Ryan sipped his coke. “Felt great to laugh though.”
“That it did,” Wallace agreed. “Great burgers.” He nodded at Leila and Ryan.
“Yes, thanks for making them, you guys.” Red popped a slice of pickle onto her burger before taking another bite.
“The burgers are great and all,” Faux-Hawk said, “but we really should look at getting out of here.”
Leila took another bite, despite her stomach tensing up. The discussion hadn’t gone well so far, and it was bound to be worse as time went on. Might as well get some calories while she had the appetite.
“We already discussed this,” Ryan’s voice was flat. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Says you.”
“Have you looked outside?” Ryan pointed to the window. “Where would you go?”
“I have a plan.”
“Sure you do. Everyone’s got a plan, but they usually end up in more people getting hurt. We’re safe where we are. Help is coming.”
Faux-Hawk crossed his arms. “Says you.”
“What are we, twelve?” Leila couldn’t help snapping at him. He was so abrasive, acting like there was something to prove when they were all in the same … boat. She grinned. What was wrong with her?
“Oh, you think this is funny? Being trapped in here like rats on a floating piece of wood?”
“That analogy sucks, first of all.” Leila wiped the smile from her face and focused on Faux-Hawk. “Secondly, help is coming! You need to chill.”
“Well, maybe you’re too relaxed, bitch!”
“Hey!” Ryan’s chair smacked against the floor as he stood to his full six-foot-three. “I’ve had just about enough of you and your mouth, buddy. You will speak to the ladies with respect, or you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
Taken by Storm Page 4
