by Anne Conley
The next afternoon, Rafe came back to the house, after his daily wanderings around the island to see Nicole and Bree glued to the weather channel on TV.
"Hey guys, what's going on?"
Nicole looked up at him. "Hurricane Ethel is heading for us, and it looks like it's being upgraded to a Category Four."
"I thought it was heading towards Brownsboro?"
Bree shook her head. "It made a dipsy-doodle, so it's coming here. My parents are freaking out, and now I have to go home." She sighed in exasperation and rose to go to her room.
Nicole nodded in agreement. "Mine are probably going to shit bricks too. They were completely pissed that I stayed during the last one. And it was just a Category Two." She chewed on a piece of her hair. "Are your parents like that?"
"Naw, my dad's pretty cool. He has sort of a hands-off approach." Rafe was nonchalant. He didn't really know what to say about his Father, if they asked. "Is Grace staying?"
Nicole snorted. "Of course. She never leaves, and her mom doesn't really care, if she even knows there's a storm headed this way. She's got her nose stuck so far up her boyfriend's ass that she barely even acknowledges Grace." She stood to walk to her room. "And Grace loves to sit on the stands during the storms." Stopping at her door, she turned to Rafe. "You're staying, right? You'll make sure she's not by herself out there?"
Rafe nodded, suddenly unable to speak. After Nicole had gone into her room, leaving Rafe alone, he raised his eyes heavenward and silently mouthed, "Really?" Heaving a sigh, he walked toward his room. As always, he sent out a feeler toward Grace's room as he passed her door. Usually, his probes were fruitless, as she was usually at work this time of day, but this time, he stopped short.
The pain inside her head was overwhelming, and he was powerless to resist temptation as he silently crept into her room.
He may have been silent, but the crack of light that escaped into the pitch-black room when he opened the door made Grace stir.
"Go away, please." Her groan was pitiful and tugged at Rafe's gut.
He continued tiptoeing towards her bed. He noticed the hospital bowl next to her on the bed and the wet washcloth over her eyes.
"Migraine?" He asked her softly.
He was answered with a whimper. As gently as he could, he sat on the bed next to her and laid one hand on her head and one on her shoulder. Feeling the power build inside himself, he silently released it into Grace's body. A slight green glow emanated from his finger tips, as the healing energy poured from them into Grace. Her fitfulness stopped, and he felt her relax under his touch. Unable to stop himself, he bent over her and kissed her forehead, lingering to smell the sunshine and sea that radiated off her.
"Rest," he said softly against her hair, as she expelled a long sigh of contentment.
Still silent, he rose and left her room.
The next morning, Rafe watched two of his new roommates pack up to leave and spend time with their parents. Grace had stated calmly that she wasn't going anywhere, as long as the evacuation wasn't mandatory. Rafe would follow her wherever she went, even though he hadn't yet told her as much. He watched her put on a sweat suit, and raised his eyebrows at her.
"You on duty today?"
She turned to him, evidently not realizing he'd been sitting on the futon.
"No. The lifeguard stands are closed with the beaches. But storms are when the surfers and the fishermen come out. It's the only time Galveston waves get any fun." She rolled her eyes.
"Are you scared about staying by yourself?"
She looked at him, eyes squinted with determination, which he admired. "Not really."
Rafe leaned back on the futon, trying not to sound too eager. "I will stay here. I really don't have anyplace else to go." He turned his head to look at her, attempting nonchalance. "We could have our own hurricane party."
She stiffened next to him. "Yeah. Well…" He sensed her hesitancy, but he couldn't grasp what her hesitation with him was.
"I'll cook us up some finger foods to eat in the dark. We can play games. It'll be fun." He smiled at her, “Besides, Nicole told me to keep an eye on you.” Throwing his hands up at the look she flashed him, he continued, “Not that you need looking after, I’m sure.” He could see her relax as she snorted softly, which made him relax.
Standing, she pulled her hood over her head. She walked towards the door, saying, "I'm going to run down to the beach real quick, just to check it out. I'll be back in an hour to help the girls finish packing their car."
"Be careful, Grace." He felt a little silly saying that. After all, he'd only been living here a week, but he'd known her so much longer. And he cared for her. She gave him a funny look, and he regretted saying anything, wondering if she could read his thoughts.
"That's why I'm walking. The traffic's too bad to drive right now. I'll be safe."
After she left, Rafe stood from the futon and walked to Nicole's bedroom door, knocking softly. "Nicole?"
She opened the door to him, and raised an eyebrow.
"Um. I'm going to the store for stuff for the storm. Do you guys need anything?"
"Don't think so. But don't forget stringed tape for the windows. We have some plywood under the house from the last one, but you guys need to tape the inside of the windows. Insurance doesn't cover them, and the landlord will make us buy them, if they break."
"I can do that. No problem."
"Thanks, Rafe. You take care of Grace, okay? Don't let her spend the hurricane on the lifeguard stand."
"Deal."
When Grace returned from the beach, more than three hours later, she was surprised to find boards already on the windows, and Rafe pacing on the porch.
"What's wrong?"
He stopped his pacing when he saw her. His eyes had a hard look around them, and Grace was struck by how old they seemed. His hair blew wildly around his face and tension radiated from his body. She could see it in his stance, as if he were ready to vault over the porch railing and take off running. His posture softened when he saw her though, and he exhaled a long sigh.
"I was worried about you. You said you'd be an hour. When I came home from the store and you weren't home, I didn't know if I should go look for you or not." He raked his fingers through his long hair, which wasn't held back in a ponytail today. It flowed just past his shoulders in unruly tangled waves.
"Well, I'm fine. I just got caught up in watching the water." She walked up the steps as she talked. "It really is spectacular when we have a storm come in." Grace looked up at the sky, noting the cloud cover. "It'll start tonight and get bad in the morning. Tomorrow's going to be rough."
"I think we'll be ready for it." He opened the door for her, and Grace clapped her hands with delight when she saw what Rafe had bought.
Candles littered every conceivable surface, along with four flashlights, a couple of camping lanterns, and a battery operated stereo. She saw a huge first aid kit on the kitchen table, as well as at least fifteen gallons of water. When she opened the cabinets, she saw they were completely stocked with enough food to last the four of them for months. There were board games stacked on the coffee table, as well as cards and dominos. On the floor was nylon rope and a tool kit. She also saw a game of Twister, which raised an eyebrow at the possibilities.
"Where did you find all this stuff? I thought the stores were running low…" Her voice was an awed whisper. She honestly couldn't imagine how he'd managed to fight lines and bring home everything in a three hours.
"I have my ways." He was being mysterious, and she had to admit to herself, the mischievous glint in his eyes was sexy.
Grace sniffed appreciatively. "What do I smell?"
Rafe grinned. "Nachos for tonight, muffins for tomorrow, as well as a pie, in case you have a sweet tooth. I also have cold cuts and bread for sandwiches." He rushed into the kitchen, like a little kid at Christmas time. "I also got a couple of these." Showing her a single-burner cook stove and some sterno cans. "So I can cook for you tomorrow,
if you want, too."
Grace laughed. "Okay, I think we're set. Good job. I had no idea a guy could be so thorough with his shopping." She patted his shoulder affectionately, stopping to feel the hard bunch of muscles under his tee shirt.
Rafe's breath hissed in at her touch, and she looked up at him to see his eyes boring into her. She removed her hand. "Um…sorry." She turned away, suddenly feeling awkward.
Rafe started whistling to himself, while he straightened his purchases.
"I'm going to go shower. The wind blew sand all in my hair." She said in an effort to change the atmosphere from the awkward sexual tension that she had just created. She realized that pointing out she was going to be naked under hot running water was probably inviting more sexual tension, but chose to ignore it, playing dumb, as she walked to the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, when she emerged from the bathroom, Rafe looked up from the futon with a hopeful grin on his face. "Do you want to watch some videos before the power goes out? I got a romance, a comedy, a suspense, and a horror. I wasn't sure which you would like."
Grace was taken aback by the gesture. "Oh. Um…the comedy." It really was thoughtful. This way, they wouldn't be sitting here staring at each other more than necessary, her thoughts leaning towards the erotic, his thoughts leaning…where were his thoughts? Surely not where hers had been during her entire shower.
Grace sat next to him on the futon, trying not to touch him. As soon as she got settled, Rafe hopped to his feet.
"I can make some popcorn, if you want?"
She giggled into the back of her hand. He was acting so nervous. "Sure, Rafe. Popcorn would be nice."
Grace admired his backside surreptitiously as he sauntered into the kitchen. She heard him banging around on the stove for a little bit, before a strange noise came from the kitchen. She stood and followed him in.
"What are you doing?" She asked. He was vigorously shaking a pot on the stove, holding the lid on tight.
He looked at her, surprised. "Popping pop corn."
She leaned against the wall across from him. "We have microwave popcorn." At his deflated look, she went on, "But if you want to make it that way, that's fine too. It's just that I've never had popcorn made like that before."
He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You've never…then you've never had real popcorn. Go back in there and prepare yourself for a culinary masterpiece." He shook the pot with a flourish before shooing her out of the kitchen. Ten minutes later, he came out with a dish towel over his shoulder, a giant bowl of popcorn in his arms, and a sexy dimpled smirk on his face. Grace willed the rising blush to go away.
"Feast on this." He sat down next to her and draped the towel over her lap before setting the bowl between them.
Grace had a hard time smothering her grin as she grabbed a giant handful of the fluffy kernels and popped them into her mouth. She groaned in ecstasy and Rafe's eyes widened.
"Okay. This is so much better than microwave popcorn." She munched on another handful.
"And healthier, too. Start the movie up." He grabbed a handful, and striking his trademark pose of nonchalance, leaned back, hitching his ankle over his knee and tossed the popcorn into his mouth.
They watched movies the rest of the evening, thoroughly enjoying each other's company. Grace was pleased with the movies he'd picked, as she hadn't seen any of them. He laughed in all the appropriate places and even chuckled a couple of times during the scary movie, especially when Grace started scrunching up and hiding her eyes.
More than a few times, their hands met in the popcorn bowl. After the first time or two, Grace was used to the tiny spark of electricity that flowed up to her elbow and was able to breathe regularly after touching his hand. The ever-present heat in her belly caused by his nearness never went away, and she couldn't get used to it. It made her heart pound, and a couple of times, she'd looked down and had seen her tee shirt rising and falling with her heartbeat, confident that Rafe could see it too.
When the movies were over, Grace rose from the futon as Rafe turned everything off. She walked to her bedroom door and turned to speak to him, but he was at her heels. When she turned, she was looking at his tanned neck and his Adam's apple, taunting her.
"Grace." His voice was soft and caused her hair to flutter at his breath. She looked up into his eyes, as he backed up a step. "I'm having a good time, here with you."
"Me too, Rafe." She smiled at him weakly. "Goodnight." She let herself into her room and sighed loudly. She wasn't going to survive the next couple of days with this man in her house.
Chapter Ten
Rafe was in the bathroom brushing his teeth the next morning, reflecting on his corporeal body.
Teeth brushing. That wasn't a normal thing for him. Neither was showering. Or shaving.
Usually, his work was done on a different realm. He traveled in the cosmic soup, visiting people in their dreams, subconsciously, or their conscious minds. He became a temporary part of their psyche. He dropped in on surgeons during surgery, to help guide shaky, sleep-deprived hands. Rafe had passed out ideas to the stumped healers, in a sudden flash of brilliance. He visited dreams. He was responsible for many 'Eureka!' moments.
Rarely, had he come to earth in a human body. He'd been visiting Grace during saves for the past three years in her mind, allowing her to do her job the way she had been trained to do, only providing moral support. He hadn't had to step in with her, yet.
Head-hopping was one of his many talents. He had the ability to jump inside of another person's head and sense what they were thinking. He didn't get clear visions, only vague perceptions. As tempting as it was to be inside her mind all the time, he hadn't done it to Grace.
Much.
He enjoyed having a body. It felt good. He stood in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped around his waist, sensing his body. He could feel the muscles in his arm and shoulder flex as he brushed, enjoyed the feel of the bristles against his teeth and tongue. He flexed his toes against the bathmat, scrunching them into the thick pile, feeling his calves bunch. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, delighted at the various ways that the human body secreted by-products. Marvelous.
The delight in feeling himself was interrupted by Grace opening the bathroom door, surprising him. He turned to her, and gaped undone by what he saw.
She was standing there, bleary-eyed, wearing nothing but a knit camisole and a pair of the tiniest bikini panties he'd ever seen on a woman in the flesh. He was frozen, eyes wide, toothbrush in his mouth, toothpaste foaming and dripping, looking like a rabid dog. He was aware of his groin muscles tightening, his testicles shrinking abruptly.
Grace was frozen too. He saw her jaw drop, framing her wide luscious mouth in a perfect O. Her blue eyes widened and an attractive blush crawled up her chest to her cheeks. Her wide eyes traveled from his face down his torso, to the towel wrapped around his waist before dropping to her feet, where they began the climb up her own body.
She snapped her mouth shut, and she began to sputter as realization dawned.
"I-I'm so sorry. I should have knocked." Her hands went to cover herself. "I'm not used to a man living here." Turning, she tossed over her shoulder as she darted out of the bathroom, "I'll just use the other one!"
Chuckling to himself, Rafe looked down, noticing his erection, making a tent out of his towel. The tightness in his groin should have been a give away, but he'd been so taken aback by her appearance in the doorway that he hadn't taken in the implications of his blood flow altering its course from his testicles to other places.
Spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing his mouth, Rafe whistled as he went into his room to dress for the day. It would be exciting, he was sure.
The wind tousled the braid in Grace's hair as she sat in the stand on the beach, watching the waves. Storms always brought out the surfers and the fishermen. Galveston was not known for its waves, unless there was a storm, and Grace couldn't remember a time when she hadn't had to help out somebody who got carried
away and stopped paying attention to the rip tides.
She wasn't officially on duty. The beaches were supposed to be shut down, and Mark had told her not to come out. He knew she felt duty-bound, for some reason. She knew that her presence gave a false sense of security to the people out there, but without her presence, they were in more danger. It was a Catch-22, and Grace would stay out here until the storm got worse. She always did.
The turbid waters displayed an intensity that was rare for Galveston. The wind whipped her jacket around her waist, and she could feel tiny water droplets in the air on her face. She could smell the ozone from the impending storm, and electricity in the air made the hair on her arms stand up. Grace knew that in a couple of hours, the tide would rise, making her job impossible, and she hoped that the people in the water would go home.
Shuddering on the stand brought her attention down, and she saw Rafe climbing the steps. His tall frame dwarfed the stand when he got to the top, and smiled down at her.
"Thought I might find you here."
She shrugged, ignoring the heat in her belly, and returned her gaze to the water, resuming her counting and scanning.
He sat on the bench next to her, and the chill in the air dissipated at his nearness.
"You're not officially on duty, are you? I thought the beaches were closed. This seems like a police matter," he said softly.
She shrugged. "They're busy with people evacuating, and looting. Nobody else will do this, so why not?"
"Because it's dangerous, that's why."
"It's dangerous for them, too." She blew her whistle at a surfer who had gone too close to the jetty, and motioned for him to move over. He complied.
