not only was the building whole, but the security lights were on. I breathed a sigh of relief and hopped out of the truck cab.
“Where are you going?” Will demanded, glaring at the building as if he expected an army of armed possums to burst out at any moment.
“I’m going to check the locks. You want to come with me?”
“No,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Just make it quick.”
As I approached the windows, I could see my workstation inside the food counter area, intact and ready for my return. I jiggled all of the door handles to make sure the Quonset hut was secure and I glanced back at Will. Poor Will, who resented a building so much that he hated to get within ten feet of it.
But at the moment, I was too exhausted to explore his myriad issues. I just wanted to find some flat surface somewhere and fall asleep. I slumped back toward the truck, where Will was waiting. I climbed in easily enough, but for some reason, the act of stretching my seat belt across my torso and clicking the metal tab into the buckle was beyond my gross motor skills.
Will gave a frustrated huff and slid across the bench seat, gently taking the seat belt tab from me with one hand and clutching my fingers with the other. He glanced up at my face, tsk ing under his breath as he checked the cut on my head again. The metal tab slipped out of his hand as he brushed my hair out of my eyes. All I could do was stare up at his mouth, those soft, pursed lips that he’d pressed against my hair when I was cowering in a dark storm shelter.
And suddenly, those lips were moving closer, pressing against mine and shocking my breath from my body in a muffled “oomph.” My hands flailed out, clutching at his jacket. I pulled him with me as I fell back against the truck door. He grunted as he lost his balance, climbing to his knees on the seat and wrapping my leg around his hip. His tongue slipped into my mouth and I threaded my fingers through his hair.
His hands were everywhere, bending my legs to cradle his hips, cupping my butt to hold me close as he rocked those hips into mine. I didn’t wear a bra to bed, so when Will reached under the thin, damp cotton of my shirt, his cool hands cupped tingling bare flesh. Will was definitely a guy who knew his way around tingling bare flesh.
My breathing became frantic as we struggled out of our damp jackets. Before I could even think about what a bad, irresponsible, stupid idea having post-tornado sex in a truck could be, my hands reached for Will’s belt buckle and tugged. He grinned at me, balancing on his knees to help me manage it. He cupped my face in his hands, accidentally brushing my injured temple with his fingers. I winced, hissing in pain.
The noise seemed to startle Will, making him draw away from me, back across to his side of the truck. He looked so silly, his expression dazed and his pants half-zipped, but I couldn’t find it in me to laugh. He took a deep, steadying breath, hitching up his jeans and starting the truck. “Let’s get home and get you to bed.”
I was afraid to ask him what he meant by that. Had the Red Cross set up some sort of shelter nearby? Maybe he would take me to one of those no-tell motels that secured every other corner in town. I just needed a minute to collect my thoughts, then I would ask him, I told myself. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass window and closed my eyes. Just a minute to think, that was all I needed.
8
In Which I Indulge in Cupcake Therapy
Sunlight, burning red through my eyelids.
I blinked, rolling to my side on the thick, comfy mattress. It was weird that I seemed to be catching a sunbeam right to the face. Usually the trailer didn’t get much early-morning sun.
Wait, the trailer had blown over the night before. And my mattress was nowhere near this comfy. So where the hell was I?
I bolted up in bed, wincing at the sudden strain on my sore back muscles. Huddling in a fetal position in an enclosed space is
“Where are you going?” Will demanded, glaring at the building as if he expected an army of armed possums to burst out at any moment.
“I’m going to check the locks. You want to come with me?”
“No,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Just make it quick.”
As I approached the windows, I could see my workstation inside the food counter area, intact and ready for my return. I jiggled all of the door handles to make sure the Quonset hut was secure and I glanced back at Will. Poor Will, who resented a building so much that he hated to get within ten feet of it.
But at the moment, I was too exhausted to explore his myriad issues. I just wanted to find some flat surface somewhere and fall asleep. I slumped back toward the truck, where Will was waiting. I climbed in easily enough, but for some reason, the act of stretching my seat belt across my torso and clicking the metal tab into the buckle was beyond my gross motor skills.
Will gave a frustrated huff and slid across the bench seat, gently taking the seat belt tab from me with one hand and clutching my fingers with the other. He glanced up at my face, tsk ing under his breath as he checked the cut on my head again. The metal tab slipped out of his hand as he brushed my hair out of my eyes. All I could do was stare up at his mouth, those soft, pursed lips that he’d pressed against my hair when I was cowering in a dark storm shelter.
And suddenly, those lips were moving closer, pressing against mine and shocking my breath from my body in a muffled “oomph.” My hands flailed out, clutching at his jacket. I pulled him with me as I fell back against the truck door. He grunted as he lost his balance, climbing to his knees on the seat and wrapping my leg around his hip. His tongue slipped into my mouth and I threaded my fingers through his hair.
His hands were everywhere, bending my legs to cradle his hips, cupping my butt to hold me close as he rocked those hips into mine. I didn’t wear a bra to bed, so when Will reached under the thin, damp cotton of my shirt, his cool hands cupped tingling bare flesh. Will was definitely a guy who knew his way around tingling bare flesh.
My breathing became frantic as we struggled out of our damp jackets. Before I could even think about what a bad, irresponsible, stupid idea having post-tornado sex in a truck could be, my hands reached for Will’s belt buckle and tugged. He grinned at me, balancing on his knees to help me manage it. He cupped my face in his hands, accidentally brushing my injured temple with his fingers. I winced, hissing in pain.
The noise seemed to startle Will, making him draw away from me, back across to his side of the truck. He looked so silly, his expression dazed and his pants half-zipped, but I couldn’t find it in me to laugh. He took a deep, steadying breath, hitching up his jeans and starting the truck. “Let’s get home and get you to bed.”
I was afraid to ask him what he meant by that. Had the Red Cross set up some sort of shelter nearby? Maybe he would take me to one of those no-tell motels that secured every other corner in town. I just needed a minute to collect my thoughts, then I would ask him, I told myself. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass window and closed my eyes. Just a minute to think, that was all I needed.
8
In Which I Indulge in Cupcake Therapy
Sunlight, burning red through my eyelids.
I blinked, rolling to my side on the thick, comfy mattress. It was weird that I seemed to be catching a sunbeam right to the face. Usually the trailer didn’t get much early-morning sun.
Wait, the trailer had blown over the night before. And my mattress was nowhere near this comfy. So where the hell was I?
I bolted up in bed, wincing at the sudden strain on my sore back muscles. Huddling in a fetal position in an enclosed space is
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