5. Kate
“There’s your evacuation order,” Aiden growls without even glancing at his phone.
I yank mine out of my jacket pocket. He’s wrong. I scan the bulletin and click on the radar image. The Tropical Storm Warning remains in effect, but a Storm Surge Warning has been added. And the projected landfall has been adjusted northward. It looks like Love Beach will be on the southern side of the eyewall and won’t bear the brunt of the impact after all.
“It’s only a shelter in place.” I flash the screen at him. “I’ve got two more transducers to secure, so if you’ll excuse me.”
I brush past Aiden; the rain seeping through my waterproof gear as I fight the wind to head out farther on the pier. Warnings are always issued in advance of the real threat, and the data this equipment will gather will still be valuable, no matter that Love Beach might not face a direct hit.
The information can help triangulate the storm’s behavior and will inform future prediction models. My job here isn’t done, not by a long shot. No matter that someone seems intent on preventing me from the work he encouraged me to pursue in the first place.
“Kate,” Aiden exclaims, his tone well past exasperated as he falls in step beside me. “All emergency response is going to cease.”
“Who are you to care about my safety?” I fire back. “You had your chance, and you told me to go. And clearly have no regrets.”
I don’t have to glance over to know he’s seething. Or, as Aunt Donna would say, fit to spit nails.
Good.
He stammers for a minute, as if trying to sort out his thoughts until finally, “If something happens to you, no one is coming to help.”
“Fine,” I snap, charging headlong into the wind, “I’m used to taking care of myself, anyway.”
His steps falter, and I outpace him for a few lengths until he grabs my arm and we face off again, toe to toe. “If this is about what happened when you left—”
“When you told me to go, you mean? Well, it isn’t. Believe it or not, not everything is about what happened back then, and we’ve both moved on in case you didn’t notice.”
Even as I spit out the words, I know they aren’t true, at least not for me, but I’m on a roll now and ready to unleash eight years of frustration on the guy who broke my heart and never once bothered to reach out and ask how I was doing.
“And,” I add, fighting the suction of my rain boots so I can continue on my way, “You lost your chance to have a say in my safety eight summers ago, so if you don’t mind, I have work to do and you have headquarters to report to.”
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“Suit yourself.”
Raking a hand through his drenched hair, he clenches his teeth and grabs the duffel bag from my shoulder, hoisting it onto his own.
I bite back a retort that I can carry it on my own. The thing weighs a ton, what with all the instruments and sensors, but he slings it on as if it’s as light as a feather. The move reminds me of those biceps on display last night when he wore a T-shirt at The Cove. Sexy as hell muscles now hiding under his bright red, official Love Beach lifeguard raincoat.
I bite my lip as we plow through the wind, the waves crashing underneath us, shaking the pier, and I wonder about his life since I left. Wonder how things might have been different if he hadn’t broken my heart in two.
But I dismiss the curiosity before it consumes me. Despite the way his powerful arms wrapped around me like a whirlpool a few minutes ago, the way they held on tight as if he never wanted to let go, Aiden seems hellbent on proving he has no regrets.
So, for my own self-protection, I need to pretend I don’t have regrets, either. And as soon as this hurricane blows through, I can hit the road again. Alone. Just like I did all those years ago.
“What is that anyway?” Aiden calls over the gusting wind, barely audible despite his face being only inches from mine.
I should be grateful he insisted on helping me because he’s positioned his broad frame to shield me from the brunt of the storm’s force. And I need the cocoon of relative calm he provides as my wet fingers struggle to secure the last pressure transducer on the old wood.
“It’s a bottom-mounted pressure transducer. It will monitor storm surge duration, intervals, arrival, retreat, and maximum depths,” I explain, pointing out the various components. “We’ll be able to get crucial data that will be useful in understanding and predicting storm intensity and behavior. And hopefully, help save lives.”
“You always loved this kind of brainy science stuff. And helping people.”
The observation, in his low tone, cuts through the whistling roar and sends a shiver down my spine. It’s an olive branch, a peace offering, and a reminder. Aiden always saw me for me. He always noticed the little things that others never detected. Way back when we were teenagers and I fell in love with him, he was thoughtful in a way other guys weren’t. And, it seems he’s still that way now.
“After I get this secured, I’ll seek shelter.” At least, for a few hours and only until the outer bands hit. But he doesn’t need to know that.
“At Donna’s? Her place is reinforced.”
Not that I’d admit it, but the fact Aiden’s dead set on ensuring my safety is…well, let’s just say it’s been a long time since it seemed anyone cared this much. Eight years, at least. Although, I’m unsure how to take it now. He made me feel safe from the day we met, but he also severed that tie like a guillotine when he told me to go.
“Yes,” I assure him. I could head to my motel room, but the place, one that would honor the government rate, is farther inland. Plus, I want to see Aunt Donna and make up for lost time.
“Good. If you need anything, or if she does, anything at all, call my cell. She has the number.”