He wished he hadn’t grabbed the Ring of Fire shirt. The Johnny Cash song played in his head as he forced his gaze away. She was . . . sexy—he stopped that train of thought before it built up any steam.
Livvy surveyed the room and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Just because I bought you a slice of pie doesn’t mean I was wanting . . . company.” He paced next to the bed. “You can have the bed. I’ll take the couch.”
“Please don’t make me sound like a ...” She clenched her jaw, and fire lit up her eyes. “Just don’t.”
“I’m sorry.” Rattled, he hadn’t meant to imply anything of the sort and felt like a heel once the words left his mouth. He pointed to the bed. “Help yourself.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want—”
“I’ll make it work.” Tanner poured out the rest of his beer, tossed the bottle in the trash, and yanked a blanket out of the closet.
On the couch, he crawled under the covers. He wasn’t exactly excited about sleeping on a sofa that was too short for him, but there was a reason he’d gone to the diner for pie every Friday night. Having her show up wasn’t completely unwelcome—surprising, but not unwelcome.
She climbed onto the bed. “I’m sorry for barging in. As soon as it lets up, I’ll go.” She’d dropped all mention of what she wanted to tell him.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to bring it up.
“Just stay until morning.” After turning off the television, he rolled onto his side, trying to find a comfortable spot.
The nightlight in the bathroom cast shadows on the walls, adding to the ominousness of the night.
The quiet must’ve bothered her because she didn’t let it stay that way. “I’m not jail bait, or anything. Having me here won’t get you into trouble.”
What was he supposed to say to that? “Okay.” He closed his eyes, concern mounting as branches slapped the cabin.
The storm was enough of a problem. He didn’t want to wonder what she wanted or why she was there, but he did.
“It’s after midnight. I’m twenty-one now.”
“Happy Birthday.”
“Yeah, happy birthday to me.” The loud crack of thunder ended her sentence, and mattress springs squeaked. It had startled her, too.
The rumble shook the house, and with the flash of lightning that followed, the cabin was plunged into darkness.
Tanner wasn’t sure the night could get any worse. He got up and fished the flashlight out of the top dresser drawer.
“What are you doing?” She asked, fear evident in her voice.
“Gotta put the food in the cooler. I buy ice when I come out here.” Holding the flashlight with one hand, he tossed the food in, then emptied the ice on top of it. He shined the light across the room.
She shielded her eyes. “What now?”
“Sorry. Just making sure the path was clear.” He slipped back under the covers.
Her voice wavered. “Thanks for letting me ride out the storm here. It sounds like a bad one.”
“It’ll blow over in a bit.” In the inky blackness, even he was a bit more nervous. What would be bothersome seemed much worse without light.
“I shouldn’t have come.” Her voice cracked.
“Showing up at a guy’s cabin at night isn’t safe. Some guys would’ve . . . well, they’d have done things. In the morning, I’m taking you home. Do your mother and father even know where you are?” What a stupid question. He’d asked an adult if her parents knew where she was.
All the fragileness left her voice. “I’m not going home, and my father is dead.”
Apparently, the night could get worse.
He scrubbed his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
The covers rustled as she moved around. “The day he died, when Mom told me, I jumped on my bike. All I wanted was to get away from everything. I pedaled along the side of the road and was nearly run over by a passing car once or twice. That gave me an idea.”
He strained to hear her as rain drops pummeled the roof.
“As I approached a busy intersection, I decided not to stop, just to keep going into cross traffic. I didn’t want to be alive if Dad wasn’t.”
He expected tears, but silence filled the room when she paused.
Her voice remained even. “But when I got to the intersection, I chickened out and yanked my handlebars to the right. My tire met the curb, and I flew head first into the grass.”
“That was you?” He pictured the face of the girl lying near the mangled bike and kicked himself for not seeing the resemblance. That was why the name had a ring of familiarity.
“This guy jumped out of his pickup and ran to help me. After he made sure I was okay, he tossed my bike in the back of his truck and drove me home. A week later, he brought my bike back all fixed up, painted a beautiful turquoise color. I’ve thought about him from time to time, about how kind he was to me that day.”
“Sorry I didn’t recognize you. Why didn’t you say anything?” He shook his head as hail rained down, trying to wish it away.
“I wasn’t sure how to say, ‘Thanks for rescuing me when I almost killed myself.’ I wasn’t sure how to make that not sound pathetic. Besides, I wasn’t sure you’d even remember.”
Glass shattered in the kitchen, a window falling victim to what had to be large hail.
“I remember.” Tanner hadn’t thought about the turquoise bike in a long time. “That’s why the name Livvy stuck out to me.”
The storm wasn’t calming down, and he was afraid it would get much worse before it got better.
“Because of what you did back then and the way you’ve been at the diner, I trusted you. That’s why I—” A rumble like a train engine drowned out her words.
Sometimes he hated being right. While there was never a good time for a tornado. Tonight was the worst possible time.
Tanner lunged toward the bed and reached for Livvy in the dark, pulling her up against him. Dragging the quilt behind him, he led her into the bathroom.
“Get in the tub.” He guided her to the edge.
She obeyed, but hooked her finger in his belt loop, pulling him in with her. “Not without you.”
He hovered on top of her, elbows braced against the cold porcelain, the quilt draped over them.
The cabin walls rattled, and glass exploded somewhere in the other room. She snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Positioning her hands so that they covered the back of his head, she pressed her face into the curve of his neck.
The aroma of coffee encircled him.
Reacting to her protective gesture, he laced his arms around her. Her body shivering under him, he pictured the kid in his truck years ago, bloodied and bruised, who refused to cry. “You okay, Livvy?”
She nodded into his shoulder and burrowed even closer. “I’ve only heard people talk about tornadoes. Never been in one.”
More glass shattered nearby, and debris pelted Tanner in the back. He prayed the walls and roof would hold and that the twister would move along sooner rather than later. The quilt couldn’t protect him from large debris.
Trees whined as the intense winds forced them to bend. The snap of one that lost its fight pierced the roar of the howling winds. The screech of metal being beaten into a new shape gave an indication of where the tree landed. He expected the morning light to reveal utter devastation—if they lived that long.
After a few minutes—minutes that crawled by, making them seem like hours—the winds died down. A gentle rain pattered on the roof, which thankfully was still in place, at least where they were.
“Let go of me a sec. I’m going to see how bad it is.”
“No. Just look from here. You can’t see anything right now, anyway. It’s not safe.” She released his neck but kept a hand on his arm. “Please.”
He peeked out from under the quilt. In the dark he couldn’t make out much. Rain sprayed in from where the small bathroom window used to be. With it obliterated, the floor would be lit
tered with shards. “You’re right. I guess we stay here until morning when we can see.”
“Thank you.”
“Let’s shake out the quilt. We were being hit with all kinds of things.”
Working together, they shook it out over the floor, guessing at what had landed on top of them by the sound it made hitting the linoleum.
After feeling around the bottom of the tub for anything dangerous that might’ve been missed, he laid down. “Not sure how we want to do this.”
“We can put our heads at opposite ends.”
He didn’t see how that would work all that well but didn’t stop her from trying. No matter how they ended up, it would be awkward. “I’m okay with whatever.”
They each stretched out and ended up with feet in their face.
“Umm, maybe this was a bad idea.” She shifted. “Ouch.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Hit my head on the faucet.”
“I really don’t mind if you lay next to me.”
“Okay.”
Both of them on their sides, they lay nose to nose, which wouldn’t be conducive to sleep at all.
“This won’t work.” He sat up.
As it ended up, the most comfortable sleeping arrangement was with her curled up, half on top of him, half nestled into his side.
“I’m sorry I came out here. After finding out what happened with Angela, I wanted to talk to you more and to—”
“How did you know her name was Angela? I never said that.” Tanner had been very careful about what information he’d given.
“She came into the diner a few hours before you did. With a guy named Daryl. She left your ring on the table when she left, but I don’t think she meant to. She told him marrying you was good for business.” Teardrops landed on his chest.
“It’s always about the business.” The gut-wrenching ache of betrayal didn’t come, instead relief at being alive and untangled washed over him. “Why are you crying? She was my fiancée.” He hoped his attempt at humor would stop her tears.
Livvy blinked, her eyelashes tickling his skin. “I felt so bad for you. I should have told you at the diner, but I was enjoying our conversation and the pie. I followed you out here to give you the ring back, but I made such a fool of myself. Then the storm got worse. I’m really not a stalker.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t think that.”
“The ring is in my purse. I’ll give it to you in the morning.”
“Good riddance to Angela.” Saying the words eased a tightness in his chest. He should never have proposed to a woman he didn’t love. “I’m glad you didn’t decide to leave and get caught in this out on that road somewhere.”
“Me too.” Livvy yawned. “As for your threat to take me home.”
“You’re an adult. I was out of line.”
“I can’t go home.” Pain or hurt mingled with her words.
He shifted and put his arm around her. “What’s going on?”
“I love my mom. You have to understand that, but she was never the adult in our house. Dad took care of us. When he died, that became my job. I’m not very good at it. But anyway, since his death, Mom has dated all these guys. Some were weirder than others.”
“If they did anything to you, you should—”
“None of them ever touched me. Long looks, a few comments, but the new guy scares me. He’s come into my room twice. Both times I was still awake, and he left in a hurry saying he wasn’t paying attention, ended up in the wrong room.”
“He was hoping to find you asleep.”
“I think so. That’s why after the second time, I packed a bag and left. I should’ve moved out when I turned eighteen. I just haven’t been able to afford it. I didn’t have anywhere to go.”
The fully packed duffle bag made more sense.
“Where have you been staying?”
“I’m getting sleepy.” She clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but he needed to know.
“Are you homeless?”
“Not really. Maybe. I’ve been sleeping in the library. There are a few of us. But please don’t say anything.”
“That’s not safe.”
“It’s a bit hard to sleep soundly, but I make sure not to go off by myself. Safety in numbers, you know.”
Tanner had a problem to figure out, and arguing with her wouldn’t solve it. “We should probably get some sleep.”
“Goodnight.”
“‘Night, Livvy.” To say he didn’t like the feel of her pressed up against him would be a lie. He was glad for the company, and she felt tailor-made for that spot.
But he hardly knew her.
He lay awake long after her breathing settled into a deep rhythm, trying to figure out where she could live. Maybe he could quietly rent her an apartment and hope that Grandfather didn’t find out. The idea of a relationship with a waitress would be considered scandalous, not that Tanner and Livvy were anywhere near a relationship.
No matter what, Tanner wasn’t sending her home, and he definitely didn’t want her sleeping in the library.
Chapter 4
Livvy blinked, the bright sun too much for the little sleep she’d had. Sprawled across Tanner, she felt around for the quilt. The chill of the morning air wafted through broken windows, leaving her cold. Tanner shifted and patted her, still snoring.
She pulled the quilt up and drifted back to sleep.
Sometime later, she opened her eyes. Awake enough to remember the damage, she glanced around at the walls and roof.
“It’s a mess.” Tanner brushed hairs out of her face. “I’m almost afraid to go into the other room.”
How long has he been awake?
Way too tempted to run her fingers through his beard, she pushed herself up to survey the floor. “There’s glass everywhere. You have a broom?”
“In the closet outside the bathroom.” He shifted to a sitting position and stretched. “You can lean on me while we figure out what to do.”
She hesitated only a second before relaxing against him as if being in his arms was an everyday occurrence. “What if we put the quilt on the floor?”
“That might protect our feet, so we can make it to the broom.”
It wouldn’t be long before, glass or not, getting out of the tub would no longer be optional, and she’d require a few private moments in the bathroom. “We have to do something.”
He slid the quilt off her. Flinging the end out, he landed it flat on the floor on the first try.
She swung her leg over the side of the tub. “You own a magic carpet? You seem pretty good at that.”
“Stay put. I’ll go. This would be a great time for a joke about a genie and rubbing a lamp, but I can’t think of anything funny.” He climbed out of the tub and gingerly stepped across the bathroom. When he got to the door, he glanced back over his shoulder. “Need a minute?”
“Yes, please.”
“Step lightly. I don’t want you getting cut or punctured.” He disappeared out the door and swung it closed.
She took advantage of the privacy, washed her hands, and tiptoed her way to the door. Pulling it open, she leaned out. “Your turn.”
He stood staring at the bed.
It took a full minute for Livvy to process the scene in front of her. Pieces of the ceiling fan lay scattered on the mattress. A large section of the roof and ceiling covered the bed and littered the floor. A tree branch, big enough to use for a tire swing, lay on the bed where she’d been before Tanner yanked her off.
“I’d have been killed. You saved my life.” The destruction made her want to crawl back in the tub.
“I’ll be just a sec.” He took his turn in the bathroom.
She pulled the broom out of the closet and swept a path to the kitchen. The roof had held in that area, so the few items of clothes she could find, were dry. She shoved the dry clothes in her bag but couldn’t find several items, like her bras.
The toilet flushed.
“I’m putting my clothe
s away. Be right back with the broom.” She crawled under the table to retrieve a pair of jeans, thankful that not everything had been sucked outside or blown away. She followed her path back to the bathroom.
Tanner met her in the doorway. “Livvy, once this is over, I think I might know a place you can stay.”
“You don’t have to worry about me or offer me your couch. I’ll figure it out.” She swept the floor outside the bathroom as a way to avoid his gaze. Accepting handouts made her very uncomfortable.
“I wasn’t going to offer you my couch. I will though, if it comes to that—but not my couch because I have three extra bedrooms—anyway, I might know a place where you’d feel more comfortable.”
“Thanks.” She nodded at the quilt. “Pick it up and shake it out so I can sweep.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He did as he’d been told.
As she stepped into the bathroom, he walked to the dresser and fished a shirt out of the drawer. She quietly leaned back and watched his toned back disappear behind the cotton. He’d been without a shirt all night, but with the benefit on the sun, she could actually see him. Looking wasn’t in poor taste, was it?
After getting to know him better, she liked him even more. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven.”
Six years wasn’t that big an age gap. She had a whole list of questions, but they could wait. “You were seventeen then, when I met you.”
“Almost. Is this like in truth or dare where we take turns?” He winked.
“No. We should stop talking and start cleaning.” She was afraid she would embarrass herself answering his questions.
“Okay. But I don’t think that’s fair.” He chuckled. “I’m going to take a peek outside.”
Livvy hurried up behind him. “I’m almost afraid to see what’s out there.”
“You and me both.” He pulled it open and closed it again right away. “It’s worse than I thought.”
Livvy hadn’t even caught a glimpse. She stepped around him and opened the door.
Both his truck and her car were mangled and bent. A large tree rested on top.
Next Door to the Billionaire (Bluebonnets & Billionaires, #1) Page 3
