Chapter 14 Emma
Emma
With my heart tap-dancing in my throat, I was playing tug-of-war with the wind to close the front door when Caleb stepped up behind me, so close that our bodies brushed together as his hands joined mine, taking over.
When the door shut, I hit the bolt, then pressed my forehead to the wood while sucking in air.
Caleb.
Here.
At the jobsite on a Sunday in the early evening. I could feel the heat and easy strength of him, and I closed my eyes as shame and panic bubbled in my throat. I’d had a campsite this week, but the storm warnings of impending mass destruction had sent me scrambling.
I’d planned to go to the library to stay dry and warm, but it wasn’t open on a Sunday.
Suzie had gone to the ER in the middle of the night, but it had turned out to be false labor.
I couldn’t bother her, so here I was, along with the one person I needed to avoid like the plague before I was stupid enough to fall for him.
Caleb’s hands slid from the doorframe to my arms, his touch sending a jolt of unexpected heat through places that I didn’t know needed heating as he turned me to face him.
He looked like he’d been swimming in the lake fully clothed, water dripping from his hair and soaking his sweatshirt.
His hood was still up, casting his face in shadow, but I could see the tight lines of his mouth, grim and set like a trap.
“You’re a surprise,” he said, his voice rough with something I couldn’t name.
“So are you,” I said, staring at him. There was something different about him today, but I couldn’t place it.
“Anything I should know about?” he asked.
Absolutely not. My childhood fear of high winds had resurrected itself today, but that was my own problem. “Nope.”
He started to say something else but then stopped, head tilted. “What’s that?”
Gee, only the roaring wind that was going to give me a heart attack. “The storm amplifying.”
“No, I hear a truck. Out back, I think.” He moved through the living room to the sliding glass door, then stepped out onto the back patio, favoring his leg more than usual today.
By the time I’d crossed the large room, he’d jogged down the steps and into the crazy deluge, glaring at the rear end of a truck speeding away along the river.
That he’d heard that over everything else was a miracle. “One of yours?” I asked.
Shaking his head, Caleb pulled us both back inside and hit a number on his phone.
“Anyone on the Henderson job at the moment, besides me?” he barked.
“You’re sure.” He paused to listen. “There was a truck out back, but it sped away after the driver saw me… Yeah,” he said, eyes on mine. “I will.” He slid his phone away.
“What’s going on?”
He shook his head. “Don’t know. No one’s scheduled to be here.
I didn’t get the license plate or see the driver.
” His voice sounded different than usual.
Quieter, low and husky, as if everything was too loud for him.
“Whatever you need to do here can wait until after the storm,” he said.
“Go home before the roads get worse. Come on, I’ll follow you to make sure you get there safe and sound. ”
“No need,” I said quickly.
Too quickly because he caught my arm before I got past him and stared down at me, eyes tight but worried. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Other than this crazy-ass storm, what could be wrong?”
“That’s what I’m asking.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m not a fan of high winds, is all.”
His expression softened, and he opened his mouth, but lightning flashed, illuminating us like Christmas trees. Thunder boomed right on its heels, rattling the windows and my wits enough that my feet shifted closer to Caleb without permission from my brain.
“Yeah, that was a close one.” He reached for my hand. “We need to go before we can’t. I’ll drive you.”
God save me from overly protective, obstinate men. “I’ll be fine—”
The lights flickered and went out.
“Shit,” Caleb said.
Around us, the manor shook. There was still daylight, but not much, and my beleaguered heart threatened to pound its way out of my chest as dark memories of the fire surfaced without warning.
There’d been dry lightning that night, too, and sixty-plus-mile-an-hour winds.
Power lines had come down onto a field drier than my dating life.
And just like that—poof—my entire apartment building had gone up in flames.
It was amazing how fast your world could burn when it was made of straw. Ten minutes. That’s how long it had taken to turn my life into ash.
Sometimes I still smelled smoke in my hair.
Shivering at the memories, I sucked in some air as the sky rumbled like a distant drumbeat, an ominous growl. “It’s right over us,” I whispered. “And—”
A bright flash of lightning lit us up for a single second before a clap of thunder shook the house to its foundation, followed by a loud, earthshaking thud that I couldn’t place while I whimpered and covered my ears.
I heard a rough oath, and then a warm arm slid around my waist and pulled me close. His other hand slid to the base of my neck. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“What was that?”
“I’m guessing a tree.”
My breath came in panicky little huffs. “I’m not a fan of wind. Or big storms.”
“I’m getting that.”
I let out an embarrassing little mewl and pressed my face into his chest. “I’m fine,” I whispered.
“Think of something else. One of your favorite things.”
“Food,” I said, then felt the puff of his short laugh against my temple.
“When we get out of here, I’ll buy you whatever you want,” he promised.
“Burger. Fries. Chocolate shake.”
“Done.”
He had his moments.
His warm hand at the nape of my neck was shockingly effective at calming me down, but I forced myself to step away from him. “Okay, let’s go.”
We turned to the front door. Caleb pulled it open and let out a low whistle. “Too late.”
There had been a massive coastal oak on either side of the driveway at the bottom, where the asphalt met the street. One had come down, blocking the way out.
“I could off-road us around that,” Caleb said, “but even on a normal rainy day, the roads out here wash out regularly. And this…” He gestured to the downpour. “This is no regular heavy rain day. I wouldn’t risk it in my truck, much less let you risk it in your car.”
“Excuse me,” I said. “Let me?”
He ran a hand down his weary face. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”
“I don’t need you to. I don’t need anyone to.”
“No shit.” He pushed back his hood and unzipped the jacket, before tossing the wet garment aside, leaving him in jeans and a Henley, which he shoved up to his elbows.
There really was something different about him today. I hadn’t been able to figure it out before, but his eyes seemed shadowed, his brow furrowed as he rubbed his thumb and index finger over his forehead. “Hey,” I said. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
I raised a brow at his clipped tone, giving him a come on, out with it gesture.
He rubbed his temples. “I’m getting a stupid migraine.
” As the rain and wind continued to batter the manor, he dropped to sit on a stack of drywall, head bowed, shoulders slumped, hands still at his temples, eyes closed.
When he turned a little green and swallowed hard, I climbed onto the drywall next to him and reached for his hand, pulling it into my lap to pinch the meaty flesh between the base of his thumb and index finger.
Pain. That expression in his eyes was pain, and a great deal of it.
“What are you doing?” His voice was a barely audible growl now.
“It’s a trigger point. I’ve never had a migraine, but my mom used to get them before she passed.” I’d always taken care of her, so I knew exactly how bad it could get.
I felt the fingers of his other hand gently squeeze my arm. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” I squeezed hard and held until my fingers started to cramp before slowly letting off.
He blinked his eyes open.
“Did it help?” I asked.
He let out a long breath, then looked at me. “The urge to puke faded a bit, so yeah, thanks.”
“It won’t last. Do you have meds?”
“Fuck.” He turned back to the door. “I’ve got an emergency stash in the glove box. I meant to grab a pill before getting out.”
I held out my hand. “Keys,” I said when he just stared at me, wriggling my fingers.
He pulled them from his pocket with one hand, the other holding his head. “I’ll get them—”
I snatched the keys from his palm. Maybe I hadn’t been a Division One athlete, but I could really move when I needed to. “Need anything else?”
“A new head. But you’re not going out there. No fucking way.”
“Oh, but you can?” I opened the door and stepped out into hell, quickly shutting the door behind me.
Wind tugged my hood back and whipped at my face as I ran down the steps and…
sank into several inches of water already pooled on the bottom step.
But if I stopped, the panic would get me, so I kept going, sloshing through the water to Caleb’s truck, toes squishing in my beat-up sneakers.
Adrenaline surged as I beeped the passenger door open and scrambled inside like the devil himself was on my heels. Slamming the door shut, I leaned back against the seat, the storm now muted somewhat.
As I reached for the glove box, a six-foot-two hooded shadow appeared in the driver’s side window, muscular arms crossed over a broad chest. And his face. Oh boy, his face. He radiated bad temper. Or maybe that was his headache. I hit the fob and unlocked the door for him.
He slid into the seat and slowly turned his head to me.
“Problem?” I asked with faux calm.
“You didn’t listen.” A lock of wet hair fell into his eyes, and a stupid side of me soaked up the sight of him.
“I always listen,” I said. “I just didn’t happen to agree.” I tossed him the bottle of migraine meds. “I believe the words you’re looking for are thank you.”
He popped a pill without water, which said a lot about how much pain he was in. He hadn’t put his jacket back on, and that shirt clung to his torso in ways that should be illegal. “And here I thought I was the most stubborn person on the planet,” I said dryly.
He shook his head. “I’d like to try to get us out of here, but…”
We both peered through the windshield. The fallen tree lay across the driveway like a monstrous, furry beast. Its root ball, the size of the truck, was a formidable obstacle on one side, while the branch end of the tree was spread wide like a leafy octopus, blocking the other.
To top it all off, both ends butted up against the edge of the hill the manor had been built on.
“Shit.” Caleb pulled out his phone. “Calling Ryder to see if anyone can help me move the tree.”
Move the tree? It was enormous. Lying on its side, it had a circumference far taller than I was. No way could one person, or even two, move this tree. They were going to need an entire crew and equipment.
Ryder’s voice came through Caleb’s phone, tinny and distant, saying the roads were flooded between here and the highway, that there were dozens of trees down, many across roads.
Same for electrical lines, some of which were sparking and dangerous.
Complicating everything, the entire county was without power.
“I’ll bring a crew with a reach lift the second we can get through,” Ryder promised. “Don’t worry about Hank or the boys, one of us will keep them.”
The boys undoubtedly being Calvin and Klein. Caleb disconnected and turned to me, regret on his face.
And how screwed up was it that I had zero regret? We were stuck here, and regardless of the storm or what Caleb thought, I knew that for tonight at least, I would be sheltered.