21. Lila #2
“Their loss is your gain,” I shrug, then wince as my shoulder reminds me it’s still very much injured. “Though I’m surprised your university sprung for something this nice.”
“Well, it turns out luck was in our favor. The campus police K-9 unit just got a new SUV. They hadn’t sold off the old one yet so my department commandeered.
They were able to get it down here quickly, but we had some outside help, too.
Lucas’s news station might have thrown in some additional funds to properly equip it. ”
“Weather Boy?” I raise an eyebrow.
Before Jonah can answer, movement near the SUV catches my attention. That’s when I spot him, holding his phone up in front of the vehicle.
“Is he..?”
“Taking a selfie,” Jonah confirms with a sigh. “He’s been documenting everything since he arrived.”
I watch as Lucas repositions himself, clearly hunting for the right angle, the news van parked far enough back to catch our new ride in the background.
“Please tell me Weather Boy riding with us is not a part of the deal, because there are a lot of things I am willing to do for you, Jonah, but being stuck with him for days on end is where I draw the line.”
“He’s not that bad,” Jonah retorts. “He has his…” His sentence dies the second he notices Lucas posing with our SUV. “On second thought, you might be right about that.”
“Keep that sentence in your vocabulary. You’ll be needing that for future arguments.”
“He does grow on you,” Jonah admits, watching Lucas now recording a video introduction with the SUV. “Eventually. Like a fungus.”
I snort at that, which makes my shoulder throb. “How long is he staying?”
“Just today. He wants to film some background footage for a segment on storm chasing technology.” Jonah’s hand finds the small of my back, a steadying presence I’m growing increasingly dependent on. “I promised him an interview in exchange for the extra funding.”
“So we’re basically giving Weather Boy his fifteen minutes of fame,” I say, watching Lucas gesture dramatically toward the SUV while talking to his phone. “As long as he doesn’t get in our way when we’re chasing.”
“That was my one condition,” Jonah assures me. “He stays back when we’re in position. No exceptions.”
“Good. Because I’m not responsible for what happens if he starts asking annoying questions, and we might be standing next to cliff, or a hole, even a well.”
Max nudges my leg with his nose, apparently tired of being ignored.
The truth is, seeing Lucas with his camera makes me think of Dad’s equipment—all the custom gear that was lost in the tornado.
The specialized cameras, the anemometers he’d modified himself, the hand-built weather stations. All gone.
Jonah notices my shift in mood immediately. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie, then correct myself when he gives me that look. “I was just thinking about Dad’s equipment.”
“Let me show you something,” Jonah says, something in his tone I can’t quite place. “Follow me.”
I glance at him, curious, but go along as he heads toward the SUV. Lucas trails behind us.
“And here we have the legendary Delilah Brooks, one of the most fearless storm chasers in the Midwest, recently injured in the line of duty,” Lucas narrates, his broadcaster energy carrying across the parking lot.
“Despite her injuries, she’s ready to get back on the road with Professor Reed and their cutting-edge research equipment. ”
I roll my eyes at Jonah, who gives me an apologetic look. “Lucas, can you give us a minute?” he asks.
“Of course, of course,” Lucas replies, though he keeps his camera pointed our way. “I’ll just get some B-roll of the vehicle.”
Jonah guides me to the back of the SUV and pauses, his hand on the latch. There’s something in his expression—nervousness, maybe, or anticipation—that makes my heart beat a little faster.
“I have a surprise for you,” he tells me, something quiet and uncertain in the way he does.
My breath catches. “You what?”
He opens the back of the SUV, and I freeze, my good hand flying to my mouth.
There, laid out on blankets, is my father’s equipment. Not all of it—but enough to make my throat tighten.
“How—” The word breaks apart. I reach out with trembling fingers, afraid to touch anything in case it vanishes.
“I went to the tow yard where they took your truck,” Jonah explains, gentle in a way that makes my chest ache. “The manager let me go through what was left. I brought back everything I could that wasn’t completely destroyed.”
Jonah reaches inside and pulls out my lucky flannel shirt. The one that was my dad’s. The one I thought was gone forever.
“It was wedged under the passenger seat,” he says, holding it out to me. “It needs washing, but it’s intact.” I pull it against my chest, relief flooding through me.
I want to respond, but words fail me completely. Instead, I bury my face in the flannel, breathing in what’s left of my father, trying desperately not to break down in the middle of a motel parking lot with Lucas’s camera pointed in our direction.
“The main console is damaged,” he continues, giving me time to compose myself, “but I think it can be repaired. And some of the sensors are semi-functional. The data storage unit was built like a black box. Your dad knew what he was doing.”
“Did you find Stormy Daniels?”
“I didn’t, but a search and rescue worker did in a pile of rubble a mile away. He saw your name on it and came to the hospital with her remains.”
“She always did have a flair for dramatic endings,” I mutter. “Guess she finally committed to one.”
Jonah shifts, giving me a second before he speaks again. “I know she was your favorite. But, I didn’t want you stuck without a wingman.”
I crack one eye open. “Jonah, if you tell me you bought a replacement while I was unconscious?—”
“I might have taken the liberty,” he says, lifting a noticeably bulkier drone into view. “Top-tier model. Reinforced frame, shock-resistant, heavy-duty rotors—this thing isn’t just fast, it’s built like a tank. You could throw it at a tornado, and it’d probably ask for another round.”
I push myself up a little, eyeing it as it powers on with a deeper, steadier hum. It rises into the air without any flashy tricks. Just a solid, unshakable hover like it has nothing to prove.
I tilt my head. “Wow. That is aggressively sturdy.”
Jonah nods. “Considering how everything has been going lately, I erred on the side of caution and went bigger.
The drone adjusts in place, rock-solid, like the air itself would have to file a complaint to move it.
“It just needs a name.”
A grin creeps across my face. “Oh, I have one in mind, and it keeps with the naming tradition.”
Jonah groans. “I was afraid of that.”
I gesture toward the drone. “Look at it. Thick frame, not subtle in the slightest…” I pause, enjoying this. “…yeah. That’s Girthmaster.”
Jonah blinks. “I’m sorry—what?”
“You heard me.”
“Is that even a real person?”
“It is, but I don’t suggest googling him. It might break you,” I say, nodding toward the hovering machine. “If anyone can survive a couple rounds with a tornado…” I smirk. “…it’s Girthmaster.”
Jonah tries not to laugh. Fails. “I hate how much sense that makes.”
“Exactly. Stormy chased the storm. Girthmaster’s going to outlast it.” The drone hums low and steady, like it agrees with me.
I glance over at Jonah, a small smile settling in. “I can’t believe you did this all for me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asks simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
I have to look away. There’s something about the casualness of it—like driving to a salvage yard to dig through the mangled remains of a truck was just something you do. I’ve spent years making sure nobody had to do anything for me. And here he is, making it look easy.
“But when?” I ask, trying to piece together the timeline. “You were at the hospital with me.”
“I went while you were sleeping,” he admits. “Emily let me borrow her car.”
Before I can second-guess myself, I reach for Jonah with my good arm, pulling him closer. My lips find his in a kiss that says everything I can’t put into words. When I pull back, he looks caught off guard.
“Thank you,” I murmur against his lips. “For giving me back a piece of him.”
“I couldn’t leave it there,” he replies quietly. “I know what it means to you.”
“I don’t know how to repay you for this.” A hint of mischief tugs at my mouth as a thought crosses my mind. “Though I promise you, the second this sling comes off, I’ll show you exactly how grateful I am. And it’ll involve a lot more than just a kiss, Professor.”
His cheeks flush immediately, that adorable pink spreading across his face and down his neck.
“I—that’s not why I—” he stammers.
“I know,” I cut him off, pressing another quick kiss to his lips. “That’s what makes better.”
A low whistle cuts through the air behind us. “Well, well, well! Looks like my theory was right all along!” Lucas calls out. “The professor is officially smitten! I told you so, Jonah!”
I pull away from Jonah, but keep my hand firmly on his arm. The flush on his cheeks deepens to crimson as we both turn toward Lucas.
“Shut up, Lucas,” Jonah and I say in unison, which only makes Weather Boy grin wider.
“The couple that tells me to shut up together, stays together,” Lucas quips, still filming. “This is gold for my segment. ‘Storm Chasers Find Love in the Eye of the Hurricane.’ Or tornado, whatever.”
“There’s no eye in a tornado,” Jonah mutters, his professor instincts clearly unable to let scientific inaccuracy slide.
I roll my eyes. “If you don’t turn that camera off right now, Weather Boy, I’m going to show your viewers exactly how I secured my reputation as ‘legendary.’” I make air quotes with my good hand. “Hint, it involves shoving cameras where the sun doesn’t shine.”
Lucas laughs but finally lowers his phone. “Fine, fine. But seriously, I called this from day one.”
“Lucas…drop it,” Jonah growls at him.
I’m not prepared for what Jonah’s voice does to me.
Low. Quiet. Final. The kind of tone that doesn’t ask.
Something shifts low in my stomach and stays there, warm and insistent.
Emily had made me sit through an entire romance audiobook on a long drive through Nebraska, and I’d spent most of it rolling my eyes at the male lead’s signature growl.
Ridiculous, I’d said. Performative. I take it back.
I take all of it back. I am so Team Growl.
Emily once made me listen to one of her romance audiobooks, where the main guy kept growling through half the story. It sounded ridiculous at the time. Not anymore. I am absolutely Team Growl.
“Do that again,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Jonah blinks, brow pulling together. “Do what again?”
“That thing you did. When you told Lucas to drop it.” I step closer, lowering my tone so Weather Boy can’t hear.
He looks honestly confused. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You got all…” I wave a hand, searching for the word. “Commanding.”
Color rises in his cheeks again, though it feels different this time. “I was just trying to get him to stop bothering you.”
“Well, it worked. And it was really hot.” I lean in, my good hand sliding up his arm. “I’d like to hear more of that. Preferably, when we don’t have an audience.”
Understanding flickers across his face, followed quickly by that irresistible mix of embarrassment and interest I’m starting to recognize. “I didn’t realize…”
“That’s because you’re completely unaware of your own appeal, Professor.” I give his arm a light squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep pointing it out for you.”
Lucas starts to cut in again, but Jonah shoots him a look sharp enough to stop him cold—and wow, that does things to me.
“The storm system’s a few hours out, and I’m exhausted.” My shoulder throbs in agreement, though that’s not exactly what’s making my pulse jump. “I think I should lie down for a bit. Jonah, can you help me inside?”
Lucas frowns. “But I was hoping to get some footage of you two setting up?—”
“Lucas,” I cut in, flashing my sweetest smile, “would you mind taking Max for a walk? He’s been cooped up and could use it.” I glance at the golden retriever. “Right, buddy?”
Max’s tail starts wagging immediately, and Lucas reluctantly takes the leash I offer.
Jonah looks between us, confused. “I thought we were going to review the radar data before?—”
“Just go with it,” I murmur, leaning in so only he can hear. I give him a pointed look, hoping he picks up what I’m not saying out loud.
It takes a second, but then it clicks. His posture shifts, realization settling in.
“Right,” he adds, clearing his throat. “Rest. Very important.”
Lucas glances between us, realization spreading across his face like a sunrise. “Oh, I see how it is.” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that makes me want to smack him. “You’re saddling me with the dog while you two…”
“Lucas,” Jonah growls again.
“Yeah, we’re going to go. We’ll be back soon.”
I’m practically dragging Jonah inside, my good hand locked around his wrist as I pull him through the motel lobby. My shoulder throbs with each quick step, but I couldn’t care less right now. The elevator seems miles away, and I jab the button with more force than necessary.
“Lila, slow down. Your shoulder?—”
“Is fine,” I cut him off, watching the numbers above the elevator with impatience. When the doors finally slide open, I tug him inside and press our floor number, then immediately turn to face him.
“That growly voice thing?” I say, backing him against the elevator wall. “We’re going to explore that more thoroughly.”
“Here? In the elevator?”
I laugh, pressing closer. “I’m injured, not an exhibitionist. But the second we get to our room...”
The elevator dings, and I reluctantly step back, leading him down the hallway with determined strides. My heartbeat hammers in my ears as I fumble with the key card, cursing my injured arm that makes everything take twice as long.
“Let me,” Jonah says, taking the card from my fingers. His hands are steady as he unlocks the door, but I can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the slight tremor in his movements.
The door swings open, and I waste no time pulling him inside. As soon as it clicks shut behind us, I pounce.