Runaway Heart (A Game of Hearts #2) by Candace Knoebel, Sonya Loveday Page A
Authors: Candace Knoebel, Sonya Loveday
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a second and grab the first-aid kit. You okay waiting here?”
“Okay?” I snorted. “I’m a man, love.”
She rolled her eyes, tossing a whatever over her shoulder as she disappeared, leaving me in the dark with visions of sugarplum kisses and nice, perky breasts dancing in my head.
“IT SOUNDED LIKE AN EXPLOSION went off when the window let go. I thought you were dead.” Hannah dabbed something that burned like acid when it touched my skin.
The only good outcome from what happened was Hannah snapping out of her fear and squashing it to help me.
“I’m glad I’m not,” I said through a wince. “Dead, that is,” I added with an attempted chuckle.
She rolled her eyes at me and gathered up the first-aid kit. “Me too. Otherwise, I’d have to ride out the rest of this storm on my own and I don’t think I’d make it.”
“Have ye ever been through a storm like this before?”
“No, and I never want to again,” she said, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.
The wind hadn’t let up, not entirely, making me wonder how long we’d remain huddled in the confines of the hallway. How long did a hurricane take to blow itself out?
“Well, lucky for ye, ye have excellent company.” I puffed my chest out, wiggling my eyebrows.
She got to her feet, first-aid kit clutched in her hands. “Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head. I’m gonna put this back.”
“Oh, it went to my head. Several times, love,” I mumbled under my breath.
Our bags, while wet, had been zipped closed so no glass made it inside of them. While Hannah was in the bathroom, I pushed them against the wall on the other side of the hallway in case we, for whatever reason, needed to leave it. The last thing we needed was to trip over them.
Maggie and Phillip would have a huge mess to come home to.
The worst part was the shrill whistle blowing past the gaps of the bedroom door. Sounded like a woman being bloody murdered, it did. Wracking my brain, I tried to think about how I could fix it.
“Ed?” Hannah called from the bathroom.
I poked my head inside as she pointed to a linen closet.
“Look what I found.” She pointed to an abundance of towels along with stacks of blankets and sheets.
An idea clicked into place.
“Do ye know anything about hurricanes?” I asked Hannah, trying to recall what little I knew. There was something about an eye. However, not having to deal with such storms back home, it wasn’t forthcoming in my memories.
“A little. Why?” she answered, pulling a comforter and sheets out of the linen closet.
I took the sheets she handed me. “Remind me again, there’s an eye to the storm, right?”
“Yeah, it supposedly gets really calm and then all hell breaks loose again,” she replied with a worried look on her face.
“Nothing we can do about that but get through it, yeah? But I think I know how we can make that bloody noise go away.” I tipped my head in the direction of the aggravating sound.
WHEN THE WINDS DIED DOWN, we grabbed all the towels, and whatever else we could get our hands on, and opened the door to Maggie and Phillip’s room. There wasn’t any helping the damage that already happened inside, but Hannah did rescue Maggie’s overturned jewelry box and a handful of pictures.
The door was an absolute bitch to close with all the towels and washcloths in place, but we managed.
Once we had that taken care of, Hannah spread out a clean comforter on the mattress in the hallway, sprawling on top of it with a groan. “Come to Rum Cay, Hannah. It’ll be fun, Hannah,” she mumbled. “I never want to see this island ever again,” she said, propping herself up to look at me with those incredible blue eyes.
“Up until today, it’s been good.” I tried to put a positive spin on it for her.
Her impossibly thick lashes fluttered. “Yeah, I know. Don’t listen to me, I’m just tired.” She sighed, burying her face in the crook of her elbow.
I knew how she felt.
“Okay?” I snorted. “I’m a man, love.”
She rolled her eyes, tossing a whatever over her shoulder as she disappeared, leaving me in the dark with visions of sugarplum kisses and nice, perky breasts dancing in my head.
“IT SOUNDED LIKE AN EXPLOSION went off when the window let go. I thought you were dead.” Hannah dabbed something that burned like acid when it touched my skin.
The only good outcome from what happened was Hannah snapping out of her fear and squashing it to help me.
“I’m glad I’m not,” I said through a wince. “Dead, that is,” I added with an attempted chuckle.
She rolled her eyes at me and gathered up the first-aid kit. “Me too. Otherwise, I’d have to ride out the rest of this storm on my own and I don’t think I’d make it.”
“Have ye ever been through a storm like this before?”
“No, and I never want to again,” she said, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.
The wind hadn’t let up, not entirely, making me wonder how long we’d remain huddled in the confines of the hallway. How long did a hurricane take to blow itself out?
“Well, lucky for ye, ye have excellent company.” I puffed my chest out, wiggling my eyebrows.
She got to her feet, first-aid kit clutched in her hands. “Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head. I’m gonna put this back.”
“Oh, it went to my head. Several times, love,” I mumbled under my breath.
Our bags, while wet, had been zipped closed so no glass made it inside of them. While Hannah was in the bathroom, I pushed them against the wall on the other side of the hallway in case we, for whatever reason, needed to leave it. The last thing we needed was to trip over them.
Maggie and Phillip would have a huge mess to come home to.
The worst part was the shrill whistle blowing past the gaps of the bedroom door. Sounded like a woman being bloody murdered, it did. Wracking my brain, I tried to think about how I could fix it.
“Ed?” Hannah called from the bathroom.
I poked my head inside as she pointed to a linen closet.
“Look what I found.” She pointed to an abundance of towels along with stacks of blankets and sheets.
An idea clicked into place.
“Do ye know anything about hurricanes?” I asked Hannah, trying to recall what little I knew. There was something about an eye. However, not having to deal with such storms back home, it wasn’t forthcoming in my memories.
“A little. Why?” she answered, pulling a comforter and sheets out of the linen closet.
I took the sheets she handed me. “Remind me again, there’s an eye to the storm, right?”
“Yeah, it supposedly gets really calm and then all hell breaks loose again,” she replied with a worried look on her face.
“Nothing we can do about that but get through it, yeah? But I think I know how we can make that bloody noise go away.” I tipped my head in the direction of the aggravating sound.
WHEN THE WINDS DIED DOWN, we grabbed all the towels, and whatever else we could get our hands on, and opened the door to Maggie and Phillip’s room. There wasn’t any helping the damage that already happened inside, but Hannah did rescue Maggie’s overturned jewelry box and a handful of pictures.
The door was an absolute bitch to close with all the towels and washcloths in place, but we managed.
Once we had that taken care of, Hannah spread out a clean comforter on the mattress in the hallway, sprawling on top of it with a groan. “Come to Rum Cay, Hannah. It’ll be fun, Hannah,” she mumbled. “I never want to see this island ever again,” she said, propping herself up to look at me with those incredible blue eyes.
“Up until today, it’s been good.” I tried to put a positive spin on it for her.
Her impossibly thick lashes fluttered. “Yeah, I know. Don’t listen to me, I’m just tired.” She sighed, burying her face in the crook of her elbow.
I knew how she felt.
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