Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
Bailey kept her head bent low, her forehead pressed right between Reeves’s shoulder blades. He didn’t drive terribly fast, but with the cats on her lap, and a dog in front of him, and the rain pelting the whole earth and everything on it, she felt very unstable and out of control.
Reeves’s hard muscle beneath her fingers, where she’d curled them around his bicep, grounded her and infused some hope into her that he could handle this situation.
They seemed to drive along the highway for a long time before he eventually slowed and then took the left turn into his driveway at a crawl.
He accelerated a tiny bit, but Bailey still didn’t lift her head.
“I’ll get the garage,” he yelled above the sound of the rain hitting the cement, his roof, and everything else on his farm.
She sat up then to allow him space to get off. Pansy went with him, and Bailey sat perfectly still while he punched in the code to lift the garage door. Balancing the cats in her arms, she tried to comfort Rabbit by saying, “You’re all right, buddy. We’re here, and I’ll get you dry.”
As she swung her leg over the seat of the ATV, Reeves appeared and took Rabbit and Milky Way so she could finish getting off the four-wheeler.
They exchanged the bin again, and Bailey darted into his garage and out of the elements.
Reeves already had two vehicles parked in the garage—a big truck that could pull trailers, and a mid-sized SUV the deep color of midnight—but his garage was oversized, and he had room to pull the ATV in behind the SUV.
Bailey had moved all the way out of the way by then and hovered near the hood of his truck as he killed the engine and came to join her.
“I never want to do that again,” he said, lifting his cowboy hat and running his free hand through his wet hair.
Somehow, he gave her a smile, and Bailey shivered, because wearing wet clothes wasn’t pleasant on a warm summer day, let alone a chilly spring one.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s see if Sir made it back. ”
Bailey hadn’t even realized that his boxer wasn’t with them, and her heartbeat picked up speed. “Do you think he made it?”
Reeves went up the steps, where Pansy once again hovered until he opened the door. She darted inside, and Reeves followed, then turned back to hold the door open and reach for the bin Bailey carried. “I hope so,” he said.
Bailey went up the few steps to the cement pad, and then into his house. She’d been here before, but hadn’t gotten a grand tour or anything like that. The sound of the rain muted to almost nothing as Reeves did have a second story where Bailey did not.
His kitchen boasted lights and darks, with a deep, rich brown hardwood on the floor, near-white countertops and backsplash, and solid wood cabinets with black handles.
It seemed like a lot of different colors and textures, and yet somehow went perfectly together.
No matter what, it screamed money, and Bailey wondered if he had oil on his land.
“Sir made it,” he said, and he practically threw her bin of cats onto the kitchen counter before jogging over to the sliding glass door beyond his dining room table.
“There’s a towel on a shelf right there.
Will you toss it to me?” His voice carried over the security system that announced the back door was open.
Bailey turned and found a couple of neatly folded towels on an open shelf in his upper cabinetry.
She picked up the top one and somehow managed to slide it across the dining room table to him.
She turned back to get the second towel and her cats, and she moved them to the dining room table, which wasn’t as high as the countertop.
Rabbit continued to yowl, incredibly upset about the happenings of the last fifteen minutes.
“I know, buddy,” Bailey said, and she wrapped the feline in a towel and lifted him out of the bin.
The fluffy, comfy blankets had gotten soaked during the mad dash here, and with Rabbit wrapped in the towel and cradled in her arms, she lifted the cloth away from Milky Way, then decided against taking it dripping across Reeves’s floor.
The two of them were already doing a fine job of that.
She looked to him for help, but he had crouched down and was using his towel to rub dry both of his dogs, murmuring to them about how good they were, and how he’d get them fed up nice.
Bailey took Rabbit over to his couch and settled her into the corner of it, then returned for Milky Way. He didn’t have another towel on the shelf, so she grabbed a kitchen towel and stroked the gray tabby with that before placing her with Rabbit on the couch.
“We can get all this in the dryer,” Reeves said. “We should take advantage of the electricity while we have it.”
Surprise bolted through Bailey. “Do you think we’ll lose power?”
“Yes,” he said, and he spoke in such a sure way that Bailey didn’t doubt him. “Though I have generators. But we’ll want those for other things.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, then took a big breath.
“I’ll get some lunch started and make some coffee, and we can pack a cooler with a few things and take everything upstairs to the second level.
” He glanced into the living room, where Rabbit still yowled, though at about half the volume as before.
He met her eye again, then reached for the bin.
“I’ll put this stuff in the laundry, and we can find some more towels and blankets for them. ”
“I didn’t bring a litter box,” Bailey said, her heart dropping to the soles of her feet.
Reeves grinned. “Can you imagine carting that on the back of the ATV?”
Bailey managed to return the smile, and she shrugged out of her heavy backpack, where she’d thrown her laptop, the few files she wanted to go over, a couple of days’ worth of clothes, pajamas, and toiletries.
She pulled back one of his dining room chairs and set her bag there before following him down the hall to the laundry room.
It boasted high-end, energy-efficient appliances and the scent of fresh rainfall dryer sheets.
“If you open that cabinet right there on your right, you’ll find some towels and blankets.” He nodded to it and lifted the lid on the washing machine.
She did, and he added, “I’m going to strip down and put my clothes in the washing machine too.” He cut a glance over to her but didn’t truly meet her eyes. “You’ll want to get out of your wet clothes as soon as possible.”
She looked down at herself, realizing that the pale pink T-shirt she wore clung to every curve she possessed, and she could see the pale blue bra she wore beneath it. Reflexively, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him, her eyes wide.
“I’m dripping everywhere too,” she said.
“That too,” Reeves said, and he undid the button of his jeans right in front of her.
With her heartbeat booming in her chest, Bailey backtracked to the kitchen and grabbed her backpack. The sound of Reeves’ low chuckle in her ears was more unsettling than anything that had happened that day.
“There’s a bathroom across the hall,” he called, and Bailey ducked into that to make herself decent.
Forty-five minutes later, she carried the now clean and dry bin with Milky Way and Rabbit in it, nestled in a fresh set of blankets.
Reeves had rustled through his garage, muttering about having kitty litter for oil changes, and he’d managed to find some.
She’d already brought that upstairs, along with her backpack, as Reeves said she could stay in a guest room up there for tonight.
It came fully furnished with a king-size bed in a sleigh frame and a desk where she could work.
She took the cats into the bedroom while Reeves set up their food in the second-floor living area.
It was almost a loft, but not quite, as it wasn’t open to the lower level but had a gaping entrance before a short wall created a hall down to her appointed bedroom.
He had a TV and two comfy couches, and he’d brought up a cooler where he’d tossed string cheese, yogurt, deli meat, a couple of condiments, a loaf of bread, some red grapes, and anything else he thought they might want if they lost power.
He had soda in his fridge, and he’d put in the Dr Pepper and bottled water as well.
He’d whipped up spaghetti Alfredo and steaks for their early dinner, and the water hadn’t crept up to his deck quite yet, but they’d both stood on the edge of it, the rain falling a few feet in front of their eyes, and watched as it breached his barn and the shed in his backyard.
She’d used the sandbags in his garage to build a barrier along the edge of the deck, but he told her not to venture back out into the rain, that it wasn’t worth it, and she’d obeyed.
She heard him sigh as she headed back down the hall toward him, and she found him with both hands raking through his hair, his eyes closed as he leaned back on the couch.
He was beautiful in that moment, and Bailey found she wanted to know everything about him—where up north he’d come from, and why he’d had this place for a couple of years before he’d lived in it full-time.
For now, they still had power, and he’d plugged in his laptop and she had hers, so maybe when things went dark, they could still watch movies until their devices died.
She’d also plugged in her phone and had just entered the living area when Reeves opened his eyes.
He startled, as if he’d forgotten she was there, and she quickly hooked her thumb over her shoulder.
“I left my phone in the bedroom, and I need to text everyone.”
“Sure,” he said.
Bailey returned to get her charger and phone and brought it out to the living room.
She found a plug near the end of the second couch, and she set up camp there.
He’d made several trips upstairs already, and he’d brought up his coffee maker and a whole coffee station, as well as TV trays, which he now set out on the ottoman in front of him.
Bailey worked on texting those concerned about her status and whereabouts. Both her momma and daddy had called, but Bailey didn’t have it in her to return the calls to speak with them.
I made it next door to Reeves’s place, she texted. He has a second story, and the water hasn’t even reached his house yet. We have tons of food and water, and he even had kitty litter for my cats. I’m fine for right now, and though we’re expecting to lose power, I think we’ll be okay.
She copied the words before she sent them, so she could also give the update to Bryce, Otis, OJ, and her staff. With a start, she realized that her clinic was still open, and as soon as she sent the text, she hurried to call her administrative assistant.
“There you are,” Marina said. “I wanted to call you, but I wasn’t sure what was going on. I just got your text.”
“Yeah.” Bailey sighed. One glance over to Reeves showed her that he had his footrest up. She immediately reached her hand over the side of the couch to find the button that would lift her feet up, too. “You guys should close, and everybody should go home.”
“It’s barely raining here,” Marina said. “For how dark the sky is, I’m really surprised.”
“It seems to be further north,” Bailey said. “But I want everyone to go home anyway.” She had a couple of people who worked in Dog Valley. “It’s a small town in Wyoming,” Bailey said firmly. “Everyone understands how to deal with the weather.”
“You’re right,” Marina said. “We just have daycare animals and appointments, and it’s going to take a little bit for us to close.”
“Send me the information of who I need to call,” Bailey said. “And get Angie and Trevor out of there, so that they can get home.”
More voices came through the line, but Bailey couldn’t understand them.
“Yes,” she said. “She wants you and Angie to go now. I’ll handle canceling everything.”
“I want everyone out of there in an hour,” Bailey said. “I can pull up the schedule and see who’s in daycare and start making calls.” She’d need her computer for that, and Bailey honestly wasn’t sure if she could make it down the hall to get it. “I just have to get my computer.”
“I’ll turn things green when I’ve done them,” Marina said.
“I’ll do the same.” Bailey tracked Reeves as he lowered his footrest and got to his feet. He left the room, and after a few more instructions, Bailey ended the call with her administrative assistant at her vet clinic.
Reeves returned a moment later with her computer and its charger, and pure relief and peace filled her.
“Thank you,” she said, hearing the note of gratitude mingled with surprise in her own voice.
“And I want you to eat,” he said. “So maybe you can make a call, and then have a bite, and then do another call.” He handed her the computer and plugged it in before he turned to the ottoman and picked up a TV tray.
“Steak isn’t that great cold.” He extended the tray toward her, and Bailey reached for it.
He’d sliced her steak and fanned it alongside a healthy pile of spaghetti Alfredo, the scent of garlic and Parmesan meeting her nose and making her stomach growl. A little pile of broccoli came with it, and he’d laid out a napkin, fork, and knife, and given her the bottle of steak sauce.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up at him and watching as he moved back to his spot on the second couch and picked up his TV tray. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
He started to lift his footrest and settle back into his seat the way he wanted. “Oh, I’ve been living on my own for about twenty years,” he said. “You learn a few things about how to keep yourself alive.” He smiled at her, but Bailey tilted her head.
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-six,” he said.
Her eyebrows went up. “And you’ve been living on your own for twenty years?”
His gaze sharpened, and his dark eyes seemed to shoot midnight flames at her. “Probably about twenty-five, actually.” With that, he focused on his food, picked up his fork, and swiped a bite of steak through some A1 sauce before he put it in his mouth.
Bailey’s curiosity pricked at her, but she told herself she didn’t have to know everything about this man in the next twenty minutes. After all, it sure seemed like they would be rained in here together for the next several hours, and she could space her questions out appropriately.