Outside of our shelter, thunder rumbles so loud it nearly shakes the walls. I give him a wry glance. “I highly doubt I’ll get any sleep tonight.”
He smirks. “I can take your mind off it if you like, princess.” My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as I fumble for a response, but he only laughs and says, “I’m just messing with you.”
“Har, har,” I say weakly. “You’re hilarious.”
My foot brushes against the floor where it had been swinging over the edge of the couch and I yelp.
“Bump your foot?” he asks.
I nod, lifting it up to the edge of the couch.
“C’mere.” He shifts and gestures for me to put my feet in his lap. The temptation is too much to resist, so I swing around to lean against the side of the couch with my feet on his thighs. The throbbing dulls and I sink down in relief.
“Thanks, that’s so much better.”
“No problem.”
One of his hands rests lightly over my legs, the other thrown across the arm of the couch. My feet rest on his muscular thighs. Self-consciously, I wrap my blanket more securely around me.
“So why don’t you like storms?” he asks.
My words catch in my throat. “What makes you ask that?”
“Well, you said that you didn’t like storms. I’m here. You’re using my lap as a footrest and I have nothing else to do. So I wanna know. Why don’t you like storms?”
I close my eyes, throwing an arm over them as if I can block out the memories. “My dad was in an accident a couple of years ago. It was late and he was driving too fast, or driving drunk; we were never quite sure. Anyway, he either fell asleep or hydroplaned across the median and into on-coming traffic. He hit another car head on and they were both killed instantly.”
His hand tightens on my ankle, but he checks himself and instead strokes my leg to comfort me. “That must have been rough on your family.”
“It was, my brothers especially. It’s funny, I mean, I get upset about it, but both of my brothers took it so much harder than I did. They were all very close. I guess it’s a father-son thing. Anyway, the night he died, there was a horrible thunderstorm at my house. And that’s what I remember about that night. Waking up to a pitch-black room with the loudest thunder you can ever imagine and my cell phone going off in the darkness. And I remember thinking, you know, what did my family do now? Because they’re crazy, like I said, and I was used to receiving calls from one of them in the dead of night, so I almost didn’t answer the phone.” My voice cracks a little at the memory and I’m embarrassed to find that my face is a little hot.
His hand hasn’t stopped its slow journey up and down the length of my legs, but he takes a moment to press insistently to my ankle. “You don’t have to talk about this right now, if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay. Normally, I’m not such a cry baby about it.”
“Shh, don’t say that.”
I take a deep, bracing breath. “Anyway, they wind up calling me again when I ignore their calls and this time I’m awake enough to recognize my mom on the caller ID, so I answer. It gets a little fuzzy remembering this part. I guess I wasn’t fully awake, but I remember that she told me my dad had been in an accident and that he didn’t make it. Then this huge clap of thunder sounds and I dropped my phone, which fell on the floor by my feet. It was kind of like one of those dramatic movie scenes, but it was real life. I’m sure a psychologist would have a field day with me.”
“Hey,” he says. I don’t look up, afraid that the emotions the story evoked are still showing in my eyes. God forbid I start crying in front of this perfect stranger. “Hey,” he says again, putting his other hand under my chin, lifting my head up so he can see me. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of and I’m sorry you had to go through that. Losing someone is never easy.”
An urge to press my face more firmly into the rough skin of his palm filters through me. Instead, I curb that desire and nod in response.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll keep you safe from this storm.”
Gabriel
I don’t know what made me say it, but the minute the words are out of my mouth, I know that they are the truth. She looked so small and vulnerable as she related the story. Her hair has dried into a knotty mess and her face is completely bare of makeup. She’s unguarded and expressive. It’s as if I am getting to see a part of her that no one else gets to see.
Even though I’ve only known her for a few hours, I can tell she’s the type of person who puts on a hard exterior. Much like me, if I’m being honest. I’m surprised by my need to pull her into my arms and comfort her. It’s not like me to pursue damsels in distress, but with one story, she’s completely under my skin.
It’s the blush that’s doing me in. Her skin flushes in the most interesting places—the crests of her cheeks and the dip between her breasts. I want to trail my lips there and find out just how far down it goes.
I bite my lip to resist the urge to taste her and pull my hand back. She doesn’t need a repeat of my earlier asshole behavior. Especially not when she just opened up to me about something so painful.
She retreats, smiling shyly. “So that’s my sob story. And just for that, I get to know something about you.”
“My favorite color is blue,” I offer with a lift of my shoulders. The last thing I want to do is admit my problems, especially when it’s still a sore subject.
She pushes my leg with her uninjured foot. “Gabe!”
“Okay, something about me.”
“Yeah, you clammed up when I asked you about your family, so what’s the deal?”
“You go straight for the soft spot, don’t you?” I scrub a hand over my five o’clock shadow and sigh. “Not having family here isn’t exactly by choice.”
She waits for me to continue and when I don’t, she says, “Okay, what does that mean?”
“I was married.”
Her eyes widen. “So she didn’t want to come with you?”
“I wouldn’t have cared if she did. Things between us went bad when I was still in the Navy. Being gone so much put a big strain on our relationship, and the life just wasn’t for her. It can be hard on a spouse being alone so much. Raising a family alone.”
It takes a moment for the last sentence to sink in and she sucks in a deep breath. “A family?”
“Yeah. We have a little girl together. Her name is Emily. Her mom only lets her come visit during the summer and on vacations. She moved away when she remarried husband number two.”
“Oh, Gabe.” She presses a hand to my arm.
“She was supposed to come see me this week, but her mom decided to keep her for another two weeks. So that, combined with my kicking cigarettes, put me in one hell of a mood this afternoon.”
“I can imagine. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right. I get to keep her two weeks longer, so it’ll work out. It’s just hard not being able to see her whenever I want to.”
“I hate that for you. I bet she’s a great kid.”
“She’s the best.”
Chloe sits up. “Do you have any pictures of her?”
I tap her legs. “Lift up for a second.”
She swings her legs off my lap and I grab my wallet from my wet shorts. Hopefully, it didn’t get too soaked in the impromptu swim to safety. Emily’s photo is tucked behind the protective pocket. I pull it out and hand it to Chloe, smiling at the memory of my baby girl covered in cotton candy.
“Well, she’s gorgeous.”
“I know. I’m definitely going to have to stock up on those shotguns. She already has little five-year-olds on the alert. I can’t even imagine what she’ll be like when she hits her teens.”
Chloe smiles up at me. “Did you know your whole face lights up when you talk about her?”
“Shut up,” I say, tucking the photo safely back into my wallet.
“Well, it does. Hard to think that the same man who told me to take my train wreck somewh
ere else could be so sweet.”
“Emily has never stranded me in the middle of what sounds like a damn good imitation of a hurricane.”
Chloe nudges my stomach with her uninjured foot and I tickle it mercilessly until she shrieks in submission. “I give, I give,” she shouts.
We both settle down as the wind and rain batters the cabin around us. Small though it may be, our little place of solitude seems to be holding together well, despite the weather. I hope we just caught the tail end of it; otherwise, we’ll be in even worse shape.
I check my phone and say a silent thank you that my mother convinced me to get one of those cases that protects against being run over by trucks and stomped on by four-year-olds. I have just enough battery to confirm that we still have a while to go before we can head back and that it’s definitely nighttime, and then the phone dies. I curse and chuck it over to our pile of stuff.
As if to confirm my findings, Chloe yawns and I chuckle. Since darkness has fallen, the temperature has followed suit. Even without our wet clothes, the chill in the air has us both shivering.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it would probably be best if we shared the blanket for tonight.”
She gives me a confused look.
“It’s going to get cold,” I explain. “Look, I can see you shivering from here. I know you don’t know me, but this isn’t for any other reason than to keep us both warm.”
Chloe eyes me warily.
“C’mon, princess. Scoot over. I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Chapter Four
Chloe
If I could form thoughts, they would sound something like oh God, oh God, oh God, because the warmth of him behind me is almost as potent as an hour of deep-tissue massage. It has the same effect, truth be told, because I can feel my muscles softening as my entire body relaxes. My heart, however, thumps wildly. I can only hope that he can’t hear how fast it’s beating.
He takes care not to touch me, though, and I don’t know if I am relieved or disappointed. He was right about the cold because I’ve stopped shivering and the heat radiating from his body makes me remarkably drowsy. I regret the heavy drinking I’d done last night because coupled with today’s overexcitement, I find myself utterly exhausted, but unable to sleep at the same time.
“So what happened with your wife?” I figure if I’m going to be awake, I might as well have company.
“I thought you were going to sleep.” His voice is deliciously rough in my ear and I tremble, though this time it is not from the cold.
“I’m trying. It’ll probably help me if you keep talking, though.” In all honesty, I just don’t want this night to end no matter how tired I am.
He chuckles. “Are you saying I’m so boring that I’ll put you to sleep?”
“No. I just mean it’ll help me settle down.” I pause, feeling self-conscious. “It’s the thunder. It freaks me out.”
“Princess,” he murmurs and I feel him shift. For a moment, I think he’s going to wrap his arms around me. “Fine, right. What was the question?”
“Your wife. What happened?”
He sighs and his chest momentarily presses against my back. I can feel his breath fluttering by the sensitive skin of my ear and a sweet ache pulses between my legs. I still any movements so I don’t betray where my thoughts have wandered off.
Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to notice. “After I got out of the Navy, I knew I didn’t want to take another nine-to-five job. It just wasn’t for me. I wanted something that was flexible and relatively stress-free, that would made me feel like I was accomplishing something with my life. I didn’t want to sacrifice the time I could be spending with my family for work.” He shifts a little and the front of his thigh brushes the back of mine. I resist the urge to shiver in fear that he may feel it, too. “I decided to buy out my uncle’s boating business. He owned a fleet of them here in South Florida. To do charters, fishing expeditions, touring and all. Business started picking up. I was providing a great life for my family. Or at least, I thought I was. It turns out it wasn’t enough for my wife. She left me for another man and took Emily with her.”
I want to throw my arms around him. “Gabe, I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too.”
“So what happened with the other boats? Do you still have them?”
“I do. My cousin and I split them after my divorce. He took half with him to California for his father to charter out and I kept the rest here. I have a couple of guys who help and we do okay. Not as much work as I did before, but I’m happier now. I don’t feel like I constantly have to prove my worth to someone. Instead, I’m just living my life for me, giving my daughter all I can, and trying to be there for her when I can.”
“I’m sorry that you had to go through that. It must have been rough on Emily.”
He’s silent for a moment before he answers, “It was.”
We both get lost in our thoughts after that. It’s been a long time since I’ve connected with someone. Admittedly, he was a jerk at first, but once I got past his initial bark, his bite wasn’t so bad. When the storm hit, his first response had been to get me to safety, and I’m not afraid to admit that I find that gut-reaction extremely hot.
Maybe it’s because we are stranded in the middle of nowhere with nothing else to do, but talking with him is the calmest I’ve felt in a long time. After college, I spent years pinging around from corporate job to corporate job, trying to fit myself into whatever molds my parents, my friends, or my bosses thought I should be. Nothing ever felt right and it showed—both in my work and in my personal life.
Maybe Gabe had the right idea. Maybe it was more important to be happy with what I’m doing with my life rather than trying to please everyone else around me.
As I drift off to sleep surrounded by his scent it occurs to me that I hadn’t thought about the storm at all.
Gabriel
In the hazy light of morning, I wake to find myself wrapped around a beautiful woman, slightly confused as to how I got there. I have one arm cradled underneath her head and the other slung around her waist so that she’s pressed against me in all the right places. And I mean all the right places. Her breath fans across the sensitive skin along my neck. As I shift to put a little room between us, despite every instinct telling me not to, she makes a sound of protest and moves closer. She throws one of her thighs over my hip and—hand to God—I don’t intend to kiss her, but I do.
Her lips are unbelievably, exquisitely soft. A growl rumbles in my chest and her hand rises to press against it, hesitantly at first as she rouses. I watch as her eyes flutter open and catch mine. As they widen in surprise and then dilate with desire, my muscles steel with triumph. I use the arm around her waist to my advantage, leveraging her weight until she’s pressed as close to me as she can be. We both groan in unison at the sensitive contact, the simple touch igniting a fire that we didn’t know was building.
Her mouth opens to me and I cup her face with my hands, guiding her movements in tandem with mine. I touch, and taste, and go a little crazy with her kiss. Her fingers clutch at my shoulders as she does everything that she can to practically bind herself to me.
Desire flares white-hot between us and just when I’m about to flip her to her back and show her just how much I need her, she devastates me by breaking the kiss and sliding her lips along my jaw to my ear. She exhales an unsteady breath and nibbles at the sensitive skin there. My mind completely blanks and narrows to that simple, but effective point of contact.
How or why doesn’t matter. What matters is the breathless way she whispers my name when I knot her hair in my hand to plunder her mouth. What matters is the way her heart stutters in her chest when I trail my lips on a path down her neck to the pink-splotched skin revealed by the blanket.
I bring my lips back to her ear as my hand ghosts along her neckline. “Do you want me to stop, princess?” The question burns me when I ask; the last thing I want to do is stop.
&nb
sp; She answers by plunging her hands into my hair and pulling my mouth back to hers. I respond in turn by covering her body with my own. I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I’m moving too fast, doing too much, but she simply cradles me between her thighs, pulling me closer to her warmth.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman—probably too long if I’m being honest. After my horrific divorce, relationships weren’t high on my list of priorities. Maybe I was waiting for someone like Chloe. Someone soft and a little sweet, too idealistic for this shitty world, but at the same time, determined and strong in her own right. Someone who would put up with my crazy mood swings and stubborness.
Her hands trail along my chest, and no fucking joke, my breath catches in my throat at the hesitant touch of her fingers against my skin. I feel like a goddamned teenager necking in the living room and realize I must immediately shift the balance of power before I completely lose control.
Chapter Five
Chloe
The rain has started up again, though not as violently as the night before. The gentle drum of it on the rooftop cocoons us inside our little slice of paradise. I awaken to the warm, comforting feeling of being surrounded by a pair of strong arms. The scent he wears—whatever it is—is like an aphrodisiac. I can’t get close enough. Then his lips are on mine and I forget everything but how it feels to fall.
The world around us fades like a watercolor. The only sensations I’m aware of are the press of his lips against mine, the stubble on his jaw as it scrapes a line down my throat and the sound of the growl in his chest as our bodies press together.
I have to taste more of him. I break the kiss to nibble my way up to his ear and his body vibrates against me. I press my lips to the curve of his neck and inhale deeply. I’m certain then, just as sure as I am of my own name, that I will never forget his scent. I’ll be rolling down an aisle at the grocery store and catch the slightest whiff of his cologne and be immediately transported back to this moment.
