Daeg moved confidently around her cabin, his body taking up large amounts of space. He prowled like
a big cat confined in a small cage. He’d prefer to be outside, doing.
“You’d scar them for life,” she quipped.
“They’d love it,” he countered. “Especially if we had granddaughters.” He shot her a wicked grin. “All
that romance. Marooned in the storm.”
He fluttered his eyelashes dramatically at her. So he wasn’t serious about the dating remark. Part of her was relieved.
Unfortunately, part of her was also disappointed. Her libido reigned.
With his hair wet and his T-shirt plastered to his chest and every inch of his broad shoulders, he looked so hot. Being this close to him, there was no missing the muscled definition in his chest and forearms.
Getting her hands on him seemed like a really good idea. She dropped her gaze to his powerful thighs—
with that six-inch gash staring accusingly at her. Here she was ogling the man and he was injured.
“Your leg—” She stopped and gestured at his wound. She wasn’t a nurse and although she was
concerned, she had no idea what to offer. A bandage and some antibiotic ointment didn’t seem like enough.
Not knowing what to say to him—especially since he’d been injured helping her—was cringe-worthy.
“Will be fine.” He dismissed her worry. “I’ve had worse.”
“Shouldn’t you get off your feet, at least?” After all, he hadn’t been able to drive the Jeep.
“I don’t want it to stiffen up. Walking a little is good.”
“But no driving.”
“No,” he agreed curtly. “No driving.”
That was a clear no-trespassing sign. Discussing the leg was off-limits.
He stopped by the front windows covered with aluminum hurricane panels. “You’ve got storm
shutters.”
“My grandparents had them installed fifteen years ago. They lost every window in the place and Sweet
Moon was closed for weeks because of the water damage inside the cabins.”
He nodded. “Smart move on their part. I remember that storm. She was a doozy.”
“School was closed for a week.”
He’d been a few years ahead of her, which, when you were a teen, was pretty huge. He and his friends
had seemed almost godlike. The crush she’d had on him then made her smile now. She used to think Daeg
was cute, but that was nothing compared to what she thought of him today. The notion of spending just one night with him—even if it was because they were trapped by the storm—had heat curling through her body.
She needed to think about what was happening, not about Daeg, so she said the first thing that popped into her head.
“Good thing I’m ready.”
READY FOR WHAT?
Damned if he couldn’t stop staring at her mouth—or keep from indexing all the sensual implications of
her statement. Daeg had never cared much for reason. No, he acted on instincts honed by years of grueling work and preparation. Dani, however, clearly liked to think things through a lot. While he could see teasing the seam of her lips with his tongue until she was good and ready, she headed straight to the closet and brought out an enormous box labeled Storm Supplies on all four sides. She maneuvered the box into the
center of the room, and he couldn’t help noticing her firm ass.
“I need to make a list,” she grumbled, and he shook his head.
“You have lists for everything.” He’d seen her office and he was still scared.
“I’m organized.”
“Obsessive.”
“I have everything on the FEMA hurricane checklist,” she pointed out, opening the box of supplies.
“Six gallons of water, three days’ worth of canned food, four flashlights, eight extra batteries.”
He let her talk on and on while he considered their options. She definitely had two of everything they’d ever possibly need. That was all good, but that one box held more than enough canned goods to survive a full-blown apocalypse for a week. The talking-things-through thing clearly worked for her, because she
was smiling and seemed relieved when she finally finished and sank back on her haunches. She stared up at him and something deep inside him came alive. She was messy and rumpled, and the portion of her hair
that wasn’t flat was standing on end. She was also soaking wet and, despite the summertime temps, he
didn’t like the blue tinge to her lips. He needed to get her warmed up and out of those clothes.
And just like that, his body did some warming up of its own at the thought of Dani naked. While he
tried to banish a nice little erotic fantasy from his head—of him slowly peeling her clothes off and
massaging and rubbing her all over—she returned to her inventory.
“See?” she told him proudly. “Everything and then some. Don’t tell me that being prepared isn’t a good
thing.”
A particularly loud crack sounded outside and had her jumping. He was willing to bet that the big oak
by Sweet Moon’s front entrance had just come down. As long as the branches missed her cabin and the
Jeep, he wasn’t worried. Not yet.
“You make a quality argument.” Squatting down beside her, he started to go through the supplies. The
stuff was a smart move on her part and they’d be grateful for it if the storm lasted too long. The box was neatly labeled and had its list of inventory taped to the lid. Definitely Dani’s handiwork, although it had him wondering what else she labeled. Everything, he concluded. She was one organized woman.
“You like being prepared.”
“Yes, of course.” She looked at him as if he’d asked her if she liked breathing. “It’s an occupational
hazard.”
“Right. Actuary.”
“When you spend all day figuring out the chances of bad stuff happening, being prepared seems like a
no-brainer.” She shook her head, smiling ruefully. “It’s hard to turn off the numbers at the end of the day.”
“So you count everything.” He moved in closer to study her. It was actually difficult to imagine her
stuck in an office, crunching numbers all day long. Numbers were boring and lifeless. Dani was...not.
When she leaned forward to arrange the stuff in the box, her shoulder brushed his.
He pointed toward the door just as it danced in its frame from a particularly loud gust of rain. “Then
you must have a good idea of how this is going to end. You’ve got this storm mapped out from start to
finish.”
She ran her fingers along the edges of the box, and then skimmed lightly over the supplies. He’d bet she was itching to order them alphabetically. “I predict outcomes.”
“So no play-by-play?”
“No.” She smiled. “Just aftermaths.”
“Give me an example.”
“Well...” she said, pursing her lips. Dani had some of the most kissable lips he’d ever seen. Nibbling at them suddenly seemed like a very good idea. “This is a Category Three storm, right? It’s been running up the California coast for two days now. There’s a sixty percent chance it merges with an incoming weather system from the Pacific and grows stronger, not weaker. The weather forecasts I heard this morning predict the eye is going to pass about five miles northwest of us, so Discovery Island won’t take a direct hit.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“Very,” she agreed. “But the storm’s still moving near us. We’re going to be on the outer edge of that
eye and that means winds of 110 to 120 miles per hour. Seven to eight inches of rain are predicted for the island, but the storm tide and surge should do the most damage. We’re looking at water ten to twelve feet farther inland than normal.”
Dani’s storm was all numbers. Her numbers weren’t wrong, but that wasn’t how he looked at a storm.
For him, the wind and the waves were obstacles to be overcome because the only thing that mattered to him was finishing the job. Whoever was stranded in the water—and there was always someone—that person
made it. That was his motto and he lived by it.
Until Lars. He held on to that thought for a moment, because apparently he really was a glutton for
punishment. Maybe there had been a way to make one more pass. Maybe they could have both gone up in
the basket, if he’d dragged his sorry butt to one side and had sat up. There were plenty of possibilities, now that he could think clearly.
Her hand touched his arm, bringing him back to the present. “Earth to Daeg.”
“I’m here.”
“You’re lost in thought,” she challenged.
That was true, but he didn’t want to talk about it. The psychologist he’d seen had done plenty of talking.
Problem was, talking didn’t always fix things like this. Lars was gone and no amount of words would bring him back.
“All right, so that’s the storm. Then what?”
“Then we have aftermath. How far the storm surge reached, what kind of damage all that wind and rain
did. People lose a roof, end up with boats in their front yards or the beach relocates inside what was their living room. The property damage can be significant.” She frowned earnestly, clearly working the numbers in her head. The little S-shaped crinkle between her eyebrows made him want to lean in and kiss her.