“Why not? It’s your job.”
“It scared her.”
Antwan was walking down the line of boxes, reading the contents’ lists. “That makes sense. It’s dangerous work. Why wouldn’t she be scared?”
“Stop it. You know as well as I do that she would never be happy with me. And I’d be so worried about her, I’d probably end up getting myself killed. It was easy with Faith. She didn’t make a big deal out of the storm chasing.”
Antwan smiled, and if it wasn’t the most condescending smile in the world, it was close. “Faith didn’t love you.”
“Neither does Jenna.”
“Oh?”
“Come on, Antwan. Don’t. I like her too much to play games now. She’s never been shy about what she’s looking for in a husband, and I don’t cut it.”
“A husband? That’s very optimistic.”
“Does optimistic mean something else in Jamaica? I just said, I’m not—”
“I heard what you said. Now hear me. I saw exactly what Jenna wants every time she looked at you. She thought she wanted that other man. The one who kissed Faith. But that didn’t turn out the way she planned. So maybe what she thinks she wants isn’t what she needs.”
“What the hell are you talking about? She told me she wants someone who loves her. Who couldn’t stop thinking about her. Who wouldn’t shut up about her.”
“Is that all?”
“No. She wants someone steady. Someone she can always count on. Who knows to run from the storms, not toward them.”
Antwan nodded. “Right. Look, I don’t know. I’m not married. I’m not good at my own relationships, but bredda, I can see with both eyes. Faith was a nice girl, but not for you. Jenna. She’s for you, Rick.”
“Yeah, well, she might be, but we’ll never know. She’s on a date right now with her perfect man.”
Antwan laughed. “The stories you tell yourself are gold, my friend. Nothing to do with reality, but that’s never stopped you.”
“If you’re going to help me unpack, great. If not? Go home.”
Antwan put his half-finished beer on the counter, smiled and left.
Rick got back to work. He was glad that self-righteous dick he worked with had gone. Thought again about how he was doing the right thing by letting Jenna go. About ten minutes to midnight, it occurred to him that she’d be spitting mad at him for making decisions for her.
About ten minutes after midnight, he made one decision for himself. But it was one hell of a decision.
* * *
FOR THE FIRST time since she’d started teaching, Jenna was counting down the days for school to end. It was the end of April. Another three weeks to go before she could store her briefcase for a couple of months. And while it was still too soon to plant, she could start preparing for the garden.
She slid open the glass door and stepped out onto her balcony. Of course it immediately reminded her of Rick’s town house and his little backyard, and that she hadn’t heard from him in two days. Not even a text. She’d almost had to sit on her hands not to send one herself.
Staring down at the raised box, she realized she’d come out without her work gloves. She stooped down, anyway, and shoved her fingers through the soil. The dirt was cold and so was she. This wouldn’t be the soothing experience she’d been hoping for.
Truth was, she was exhausted from her tangled thoughts. Every time she knew without a doubt she needed to break things off with Rick, she immediately knew without a doubt that she loved him and was willing to do whatever it took to make it work with him.
Back inside, she thought about cleaning out the fridge, but that wouldn’t help get her mind off Rick.
Although, the pros were definitely ahead of the cons, and maybe if she wrote them down, it would help her see—
Her doorbell rang. Couldn’t be Ally. She looked through the peephole. Blinked. Then looked through it again. With a pulse of about three thousand beats per second, she opened the door. The door in Boston, where she lived, far, far away from Norman, Oklahoma.
“Hey,” Rick said.
He was in jeans and a T-shirt, wearing the leather jacket she liked so much, and of course, his Nikes. A carry-on bag was next to him.
“What are you doing here? Is Boston going to have a tornado?”
He grinned. Shook his head. “No, Boston’s safe. I hope I’m not intruding, showing up like this. I would have called, but I was afraid I’d chicken out.”
“Well, then, you’d better come in.”
He picked up his case and walked inside, doing a full sweep of her tiny, boxlike apartment.
“Do you want something to eat? Or drink?”
“Not yet, but thanks.”
“Want to sit down?” she asked, and she could hear the tremor in her voice. This could be monumentally bad. Or something else, but she’d better be prepared for monumentally bad.
“Sorry I didn’t bring chocolates. I should have. Knowing how much you like them.”
Jenna blinked again. Wondered if she should sit. Probably. Because she could barely breathe.
“First of all,” he said, looking more uncomfortable than she’d ever seen him, “I wanted you to know that I finished unpacking. Every last box.”
“Congratulations,” she said, starting to think this might be a dream. A weird one at that.
“But I also want to tell you that I remember a lot of things you said. Like how you wanted someone who loved you. Who couldn’t shut up about you. Who, damn it, what was the third—”
“Who couldn’t stop thinking about me.”
He grinned. “Yeah, that’s the one. But you also want someone who’s steady. Who you can count on.”
“Rick, are you—”
“Please, wait. I need to get this out before... Anyway. You also wanted to have the upper hand. And you do. You really do. Because I love you so much. It’s actually kind of scary. You remember when you asked how was I going to top being swept away by a tornado? The answer is you, Jenna.”
“What?”
He took her hand and walked her over to her couch, where they both sat down. “I’ve been looking in the rearview mirror for twenty years. Watching that old tornado. I don’t want to anymore. Not when I can look ahead and see a future with you.”
“But—”
“Nope, not done yet. That picture of me running from that EF 5? I don’t keep it there because I’m proud of it. It embarrasses me that I was so stupid, but I keep it there as a reminder that I was really lucky. By all rights, I should have been killed by that monster. And I’m finally listening to my own advice.
“I can’t promise I’ll never go out chasing again, but the reason would have to be damn good. I’ve trained too many people to think I’m the only one who can storm-chase right. And I can’t promise I won’t get home late during the season, but I’ll try not to. Because, damn it, Jenna. I love you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t shut up about you.”
Bewildered by his confession, and shaking from head to toe, she said, “My turn?”
He nodded, looking so scared that she had to let him know the truth right off. “I love you, too. And the man I fell in love with is a storm chaser, among other things. I can’t ask you to give that up for me. I don’t want you to resent me or anything. I’ll bear it. I’ll be scared to death, but you can’t help who you love, and for me, that’s you.”
“Thank God,” he said. “Not the part about me chasing storms. I want you much more than that. I— Shit. I mean, wait.”
He hurried over to his carry-on and opened it up. He took two wrapped boxes from on top of his clothes and gave them to her.
Jenna unwrapped the first one. Guerlain body milk. The second one was the Hermès. “The smart apartment.”
He nodded. “I changed my mind about Ladyhawke. It was totally a romance. Even with the magic at the end. We had ours in the beginning, that’s all.”
She pretty much climbed into his lap, she wanted to kiss him so much. He kissed her back, held her so tight, she’d never fall. He was almost right. Their magic wasn’t just in the beginning.
*