Where There's a Will (Whiskey River Book 1) by Katherine Garbera, Eve Gaddy Page A

She’d never told him, though.
    Addison was very much all business . . . except that one time at the office Christmas party. Under the mistletoe.
    She turned around and looked at him. “This one’s different. I can feel it.”
    “So, what, you want to go hide in the closet?” He said it flippantly because he could think of few things more tempting than being alone in a small, enclosed space with Addison Wells.
    “You bet I do. The minute I hear the sirens I’m there. Turn on the TV and see what the local channels say.”
    Ryder shook his head but did as she asked. She came to stand beside him and look at the TV on the opposite wall.
    “It looks nasty,” he said, watching the greens, yellows, oranges and reds of the map. Such pretty colors for such potentially destructive phenomena.
    “They’ve upgraded to a warning. One was sighted near Kerr,” she said, her voice betraying her anxiety.
    “Kerr isn’t even in the same county as we are. Gillespie is under a watch, not a warning,” he said, speaking of the county where Whiskey River was located. Not yet, anyway.
    “Kerr is the next county over! Look at the storm cells. They’re headed right for us.”
    Even as he opened his mouth to say something soothing, the weather station upgraded Gillespie County to a tornado warning as well.
    “I told you so,” Addison said grimly. “What’s the matter with you? You know how dangerous tornadoes are.”
    “Calm down, Addison.” He knew as soon as he said it that he’d made a mistake. Her eyes, a deep, jade green like he’d rarely seen, flashed fire. For a moment he thought she was going to slug him.
    Instead she whirled and started toward the door. Ryder stood up and managed to grab her arm before she could reach it. “I simply meant we could go sit in the closet. There’s no need to panic.”
    He winced, wondering what made him say exactly the wrong thing. Again.
    “I am not panicked,” she said through clenched teeth, pulling her arm loose. “Are you coming?”
    Her tone implied she’d just as soon he didn’t. He ignored that. “Right behind you.”
    There was a small closet under the stairs that he and his partners had designated the official tornado shelter. It had been used before, though not often. Ryder had never had to retreat there. They kept it stocked with a radio, extra batteries, water, a few non-perishable foods, a battery-operated electric lantern, and blankets. They even kept a twin mattress inside, in case the tornado came really close. Of course, when the closet wasn’t being used as a shelter, it doubled as a storeroom. Which meant he was going to have to drag boxes out before it would be functional.
    Addison yanked open the door. “Damn it! What’s the matter with you people? It’s supposed to be a storm shelter, not a junk room. I can’t wedge my shoe in there.”
    She had a point, even though that was an exaggeration. “Move out of the way, and I’ll clear it.”
    Ignoring him, she bent down and dragged out the first box she saw. Ryder groaned inwardly, thinking totally inappropriate thoughts.
    He managed to elbow her aside and remove the bulkiest items. Besides boxes, there was an assortment of other items. Including a bike, of all things. Before long they had it cleaned out enough to be able to use it.
    “After you,” he said, motioning her inside. Ducking his head, he followed her in.
    The closet light was still on and he checked his cell phone, noting that it still had bars. Addison rustled around, arranging the lantern, a flashlight, and the battery operated radio, which she tuned to local weather.
    “Cozy, isn’t it?” Too cozy. How was he supposed to keep his hands to himself in a situation like this?
    Addison said nothing, removing her shoes and sitting cross-legged on the mattress, arranging her dress to cover her legs. Oh, man, why did she have to look so pretty today? Her long dark hair was down around her shoulders instead of pulled back or piled on top of her