Storm Watch(32)

A very slight smile tweaked the corner of his wide, firm mouth. “You shouldn’t ask a question that you don’t want the answer to.”

“Oh, God.” She closed her eyes and bit back the need to lose it. “I don’t want you to deliver this baby.”

“Baby, that makes two of us.”

“You know what?” She shook her head. “I’m just not going to do this. I’m not going to be in labor. Mind over matter, and all that crap. Okay?”

“Works for me.”

“It’s nothing personal. I just don’t want another man near my parts, not ever again—”

He laughed, then sucked it up when she glared at him. “I’m not kidding,” she warned him. If she’d had the strength, she’d have grabbed him by the shirt again and snarled right up into his face. “You’re not going anywhere near my—”

“Agreed,” he said quickly. “Do you want to call your sister, tell her I’ve got you and that we’re coming?”

“Yes. My cell phone died, and she’s probably worried—” She took the cell phone he offered, but she couldn’t get service. Then another contraction hit and hit hard, making her drop the phone. “Oh, God, oh, God…”

Hunter squeezed her hands and stayed with her, right with her, looking completely unnerved but not leaving her.

Something tugged inside her at that and it wasn’t the baby. “You don’t have to do this,” she whispered miserably. “I’d probably be running hard and fast if I were you.”

“No, you wouldn’t. And I won’t, either. And that—” he offered her a very small, very short smile, but it was a real one “—wasn’t an empty platitude.”

She had no idea why she suddenly felt like crying, but she blinked it back. “Cece.”

“What?”

“My name is Cece.”

He smiled, and it was a stunner. “Well, then, Cece. Let’s get you the hell out of here.”



THE NEXT SEVERAL HOURS nearly killed Lizzy. They were stopped by a police unit in a boat and had to talk their way past the enforced evacuation. Then they helped a family of four get across Third. And another after that.

When they finally made it to Cece’s condo, it was nearly dark. It’d taken all damn day to get there, and the place was empty. Lizzy knew this because she ran through the rooms until Jason caught her hand. Solemn and exhausted, he pulled her to him. “She’s not here, Lizzy.”

Right. Which meant that Cece had gotten out, and was somewhere safe. Which also meant that she had proof that Cece no longer needed her anymore, and Lizzy could finally have her own life, guilt-free.

Except…except maybe she’d really been free all this time and simply using Cece as an excuse, when it hadn’t been Cece holding her back at all.

But her own fear.

Tugging free of Jason, she took the stairs to the second level and looked in Cece’s bedroom for the third time. The bed was unmade, her cell phone plugged in to a charger on the nightstand, not charging because there was no electricity.

Jason came into the room behind her, quiet, a solid, comforting presence. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that maybe she’s at the hospital, or my place.”

Jason pulled out his cell phone. “Shit.”

“Wet?”

“Wet and fried.”

She whipped out hers. Wet, too, but somehow miraculously, still working. Of course she hadn’t gone for a full-body dunk like Jason had. She called her house, but the landlines were still down. She called the hospital but the lines were busy. She tried Mike’s cell, but her neighbor didn’t pick up. Then she got Cristina, and found out that the E.R. was still turning people away. She tried the San Luis Obispo hospital next, but Cece wasn’t listed as being there, so she shut the phone and shivered.

Jason’s hands settled on her arms. “This isn’t over. You just need some sleep—”

“Where is she?”

“Evacuated, at a shelter, is my guess,” he said.

“Yeah. Which means she’s alone and afraid. Cold and wet—” She broke off because her voice cracked, horrifying her.

“Ah, baby.” He turned her to face him and stroked a hand over her hair. “You’re so tired.”

She was. So damn tired. And cold. She set her head down on his shoulder, just for a minute, because surely nothing really bad could happen while she was resting against his broad shoulder.

“You need out of your clothes,” he said, running his hands up and down her spine.

She knew this. She was a nurse. She knew they both needed to be dry, needed, also, fuel for their bodies, and rest, if only for a few minutes.