Chapter 2
2
B est cup of espresso I’ve ever had! And bonus, they stock their pastry case with cider donuts from Apple Hill Farm! ~ Never2MuchCoffee
C al temporarily lost sense of his surroundings when the lights blinked out. Ridley tugged against his leash and whined, so Cal wound the strap around his wrist one more time for good measure. He hugged him against his leg, giving the dog’s side a reassuring pat.
“That’s just perfect , ” said Ginger, somewhere near him. She’d moved, and now her voice was muffled.
“With the wind blowing like this, it was bound to happen. Do you have a flashlight?”
She fumbled with something before the beam from her phone flashed across his face. He blinked, temporarily blinded .
“Sorry,” she said. “Now what am I going to do? I haven’t even cleaned up yet.”
The outline of her body slowly came into focus against the thin rays of light showing through the closed blinds. If it weren’t for the power outage, now might be the perfect time to take their customer-slash-coffee-shop-owner relationship to the next level. He’d been dying to find a crack in her no-nonsense armor. Maybe ask her to lunch. They could grab something from one of the food trucks parked near the outdoor mall. They could sit on one of the benches alongside the street or by the fountain and finally get past the small talk. And this time, he wouldn’t bring one of his fosters. Ginger might even flash that megawatt smile at him for real, instead of her all-business version. Actually, either one jumpstarted his pulse rate…
“Cal.”
After all, how often was he alone with Ginger? Never.
“ Cal ?” She pointed the flashlight beam at him again, this time on purpose.
He startled. “Yes?”
“If you want to go, I understand,” she said. “I’ll let you out and lock the door behind you.”
“I can stay. Ridley’s already settling down.” He tried blinking away the spots swimming before his eyes, but no luck.
“I should probably report the outage first, right?” she said, looking around the dark café.
“That’s a good idea. Then turn off anything that was on. The power surge might hurt your equipment when everything comes to life all at once. ”
“Good thinking,” she said. She headed toward the counter. “ Oh! ”
Ridley yipped. Metal legs screeched on the ceramic tile floor as Ginger bumped into a table and ricocheted off of a free-standing display shelf. Several things landed with soft thuds onto the floor. Catching herself against the counter, she pointed her flashlight to the floor where bags of coffee littered the area around her feet.
“Are you all right?” It wasn’t so dark that he couldn’t see the annoyed look Ginger threw Ridley’s way. “He’s scared or he wouldn’t be sticking so close.”
“I’m fine,” she said curtly before taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I just hate storms.”
He picked up the coffee bags and arranged them on the shelf while Ginger called the power company. Beside him, Ridley panted. Cal put a hand on his head, then pulled the dog against his side again. The front doors rattled with a gust of wind, and even with them closed, the scent of wet earth drifted into the shop. More rain was on the way. As much as he wanted to stay and help, Ridley’s nervousness might be too big a distraction. Now behind the counter, Ginger answered questions from an automated phone system, then hung up again.
"How about I follow you around with your phone as you shut off everything.”
In the dim light, she nodded. Her jaw was firmly set. Now he regretted not leaving when she’d come outside before the wind picked up.
They walked behind the counter, unplugging the machines, then headed through the kitchen and into the back office. He angled the phone at each of the outlets and light switches as they spotted them.
Outside, something crashed on the sidewalk. A thud against the building reverberated through the floor. The tornado siren blared to life against the backdrop of pounding rain and wind. Ginger looked toward the ceiling.
“I sure hope my windows are closed upstairs,” she muttered.
“We’re in a tornado warning. A little rain inside your apartment might be the least of your worries.”
Ridley let out a long, mournful yowl. The look on Ginger’s face told him the situation was getting worse by the minute.
“We should stay back here in the office. It’s the safest place without windows,” he offered.
She nodded glumly.
Their phones simultaneously beeped a weather warning, and Ridley’s howls kicked up a few decibels. Ginger leaned against one wall and slowly slid down to a sitting position, looking defeated.
“You should probably get down here, too. In case the building collapses,” she said dryly.
She kicked her legs out and crossed her ankles. When he didn’t move, she patted the floor next to her. Ridley took that as a sign of encouragement and tried to park his hind end on Ginger’s lap. Cal quickly pulled the dog to the other side of him. He joined Ginger on the floor.
If she doesn’t hate me by the time this is over, there’s hope for us .
“Is he always this skittish?” Ginger asked .
He put a hand on Ridley’s neck. The dog shook with fear. “He’s actually pretty chill. Great Danes can be big loafers.”
“I guess I can’t blame him. This is some storm.”
Her features softened as she looked at them. She didn’t seem as uncomfortable in such close quarters as he expected. Maybe there was hope for them.
“These rescue dogs are a mystery sometimes. Their history, what they’ve been through, isn’t always known when they come in to the shelter.”
She clucked her tongue. “He’s lucky to have you.”
Cal bit the insides of his cheeks, a habit he had when he felt self-conscious. Ginger didn’t hand out compliments often. When she did, they carried a lot of weight. His insides turned to gelatin on those occasions.
Even cocooned in the dark office, the sound of trees thrashing and rain beating against the windows competed with the siren. And underneath it all, a low, ominous hum came to life.
“Do you hear that?” she asked. “It feels like everything is vibrating. Like a train rumbling by.”
Cal did hear it, and while he had his suspicions, he wasn’t about to tell her a tornado might be bearing down on them. His throat constricted as he gripped Ridley’s leash tighter. He’d experienced one once before, growing up in rural northern Iowa. Not directly, but he’d seen the funnel from a distance when the finger dipped into the farm fields, the dust cloud it kicked up, and the aftermath when it hit one of the tiny nearby towns. It was something he hoped never to experience again .
“Not sure how much good it will do, but you might want to duck under your desk,” he said.
Ginger turned toward him. “What are you saying?”
“I think that’s the sound of a tornado. It may be just the funnel cloud passing overhead. Or?”
Ginger popped up and made a futile attempt to yank all six-foot-two inches of him off his feet, too.
“I have a better idea,” she said, tugging his hand again. “There’s a shower in the back corner. It’s safer.”
He pulled Ridley through the narrow space of the office, following Ginger’s faint form ahead of them. There was a tumble of boxes, a louder crash, and Ginger crying out for the havoc she wreaked in the dark room. Again, her phone light blinked on, lighting the path for him. She ducked into the standing shower, squeezing into one corner when he and Ridley joined her. Hunkering down to the floor, they listened in silence to the roar growing louder by the second.
“If I live through this, there’s going to be one heck of a mess to clean up,” she said.
“If I live through this, I’ll help.” And ask you out to dinner, too.
Something crashed into the lobby with the sound of splintering glass.
Ginger groaned. “I’m going to take you up on that.”