Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Gage took a moment to wipe the sweat off his face with a shrug of his shoulder and paused to watch as his brothers, their wives or significant others and the community as a whole, pitched in to prepare. Sloane included.
She drew his gaze as she always did, and he found himself staring, watching, as she used a handheld screw gun to finish attaching the plywood sheet Brooks and Cole held in place.
They’d spent the last several hours tackling their rental homes one by one, boarding up windows and making sure renters took care of outside items so they wouldn’t be flying through the air as projectiles.
While the others did that, Gage filled sandbags, placing them and ensuring every location had enough.
On the way to one of the newer rental homes they’d purchased at the end of last year, he’d spotted Hudson working alongside other fire department trainees to board up an elderly man’s home. No doubt the entire department was on call and would work nonstop until things played out however they would.
Gage respected Hudson’s decision to go his own path, but he couldn’t say he understood it. And right now, he wished they had Hudson’s strong back and extra set of hands, given the amount of work left to do.
“That’s the last rental,” Alec said, his expression tight and lined with tension. “We’ll start on the gas station and rentals building next. Get them secure while loading up the last of the golf carts. We can grab sandwiches and drinks there and keep going.”
Gage nodded. “Sounds good.” He felt his brother’s eyes on him and realized he’d been caught staring at Sloane.
“You sure you’re going to be okay riding this out with your houseguest?”
“I’m not kicking her out with a hurricane barreling toward us, if that’s what you mean.”
Alec’s forehead wrinkled. “Cole said he put you on the spot. Didn’t leave you much choice about taking her in.”
Laughter rumbled from his chest. “That’s the understatement of the year. But it’s fine. Sloane’s proven herself and then some. She’s already worked through half the mess downstairs to cover her rent. It’s all good.”
“I don’t suppose I need to tell you to keep things professional?”
Gage looked at Alec in surprise. “Are you giving me a big-brother speech?”
“I’m saying if she’s running from something, she’s vulnerable. You shouldn’t take advantage.”
Take advantage. Those two words stood out from Alec’s statement, and Gage’s mind tumbled down the path of freckled skin, wild hair and pouty lips. He cleared his throat and grabbed the shovel, shoving it off the tailgate and back into the bed. “I can keep my hands to myself.”
Alec released a low huff. “I might believe that if you hadn’t spent the morning staring at her like a lovesick teenager.”
“I said I could keep my hands to myself,” he muttered. “I didn’t say I was blind.”
They worked late into the night before breaking to get a few hours’ sleep to begin again the following morning. By midafternoon, the sky had darkened, the news had filled with repeated warnings, and the air held the odd quiet of the calm before the storm while the winds began to pick up.
They’d transported the golf carts and scooters to storage units, and a friend of Alec’s allowed them to store the limo and black town car in a warehouse for safekeeping.
They’d completed all the work to secure locations on the island and moved off island to finish the rest. They boarded and sandbagged Elias’s gym and smoothie shop, Cole and Ana’s home, and then headed to the Blackwell Farm.
Things moved at a brisk pace, but they still didn’t finish in time. The winds continued to increase speed and before they could finish, the outer bands arrived while working to secure the animals.
Finn ordered Alec, Brooks, Dawson, Elias and Gage back to the island before the bridge closed. Cole promised to stay and help Finn finish, and since they’d already boarded Cole and Ana’s home, they reluctantly left, managing to get across the bridge just as the barricades went up behind them.
Thankfully, they were going the opposite way of most everyone else, though quite a few of those who’d crossed the bridge to evacuate obviously changed their minds when they saw the bumper-to-bumper traffic and made U-turns.
The brothers headed home, and Gage glanced at Sloane where she sat beside him. She stared out the window at the boarded-up businesses and lines at gas stations and the grocery store and took a shuddering breath.
He willed the car in front of him to move faster. “It’s coming in as a Cat 1. That’s good. The winds and tides are favorable. We’ve just got to hunker down and ride it out.”
“How many of these have you been through?”
“I’ve lived here all my life so…more than a few. The locals say it’s how you earn your Salt Life sticker. You can put one on your car after this and actually deserve it.”
A laugh bubbled out of Sloane’s chest, and he smiled at the sound.
“Well, at least I’ll have earned the decal like a local then.”
“Now you’re getting it,” he said.
It took three times as long to get home as it normally did. Wind gusts rocked the truck with every blast, and Sloane became quieter and white-knuckled the door and console.
When they arrived, Gage noticed his neighbor still hadn’t stored their outdoor furniture. Even a wet cushion flying through the air could carry a punch, much less the chairs or decorative items. “Go inside. I’m going to go tie those down.”
Sloane looked toward the patio and got out of the truck when he did. But instead of going inside, she followed him through the whipping wind and stinging rain across the lawn. “I said go inside!”
“I’ll help! It’ll be faster!”
Since he’d waste time arguing, he decided to keep going.
Sloane gathered up the cushions and wrapped them with the bungee cords Gage brought from the truck, tying them to one of the pilings while he tied the chairs together and attached them to another.
It would have been better to have stored them inside the closed garage, but it was too late now.
“You’re done! Get inside,” he ordered again.
The wind blasted them, and Sloane struggled to stay upright as she grabbed hold of a piling to keep her balance. The rain soaked them to the skin, and Sloane sent him a frown, but seeing he was almost finished with his task, she nodded.
She headed off toward home, and Gage went back to securing the last of the chairs. He’d just latched the bungee cord when he heard Sloane scream.
Heart pounding, he raced to where she’d fallen, knocked down by a broken tree branch halfway between the two properties.
He ran as fast as he could, the wind slowing him as it pushed against him in the opposite direction. Sloane worked to get the limb off her and scramble out from beneath, but the wind held it tangled around her legs and lower body.
Given the thick heat of the day, they’d both worn shorts and tees to work in, and he saw the blood on her thighs and arm where the branch had struck her. He helped untangle her, heart beating hard in his chest as he took in her pained and terrified expression.
Once she was loose, he helped her stand and swung her up in his arms, shielding her as much as he could from anything that would hurt her. Sloane’s arms were curled tight around his neck, her breath hot against his skin as the icy rain pelted them like wind-driven glass shards.
Somehow they managed to get the number punched into the keypad, and the door unlocked. He carried her up the stairs and hated himself for locking the door to his private space because it slowed him down now when she needed medical aid.
Finally inside, he settled her on one of the stools at the kitchen counter and took a step back to assess her.
He tangled his fingers into the curly hair that had slipped from the tie and gently pushed it off her face, taking in the tiny cut on her lower lip as though she’d bitten it when she’d fallen to the ground.
Or one of the limbs had smacked her in the face.
He gently ran his thumb over the cut, wiping away the rain and blood.
“It’s fine,” she whispered, looking more than a little glassy-eyed and dazed. “I’m okay.”
“You should have gone inside when I told you.”
“You’d still be out there if I had. I helped.”
A low sound rumbled out of him, and she drew back.
Or at least she tried to. He stepped forward and maintained his hold on her, though he made sure to keep his touch gentle as he cradled her jaw and lightly stroked a thumb beneath the cut.
“Yes, you helped. And now you’re hurt, so you’re going to let me help you. Don’t move. You hear me?”
He watched as her lips quirked up.
“What’ll you do if I don’t listen?”
He leaned in. “But you will,” he said, gaze shifting low as he watched his thumb stroke over her jaw. “Won’t you?”
The man needed a warning label, Sloane thought as Gage drew away and straightened to his full height. She inhaled an unsteady breath and watched as he headed out of the room.
She shoved her sodden hair back and shivered in the AC-cooled room, body aching now that the adrenaline was starting to fade.
She’d been so focused on getting to the door of Gage’s home and out of the rain that she’d been completely blindsided by the limb that had taken her to the ground. She’d landed hard, and in addition to the bloody scrapes and bits of rock and sand, her bones throbbed from the jolting impact.
She also became more and more aware of the approaching hurricane as the wind buffeted the house with blasts that vibrated the structure like an earthquake. Yeah, storms were not her favorite. Especially not when her mother had been killed in one.
By a fallen tree, no less.
The fact that she’d been hit by a falling limb? Was there some kind of lesson to be learned here? Life repeating itself?