Storm Front (Reunited Hearts) (8 page)

BOOK: Storm Front (Reunited Hearts)
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To
change the subject, she asked, “Do you keep up with anyone else from
Whitesville?”

He
gave a half-shrug. “Not much. You heard what happened to Daniel Lawson?”

“Yeah.
That horrible accident. Is he…is he all right?”

“I
don’t know. He’s basically a hermit now. He lives on that island off the North
Carolina coast that’s been in his family for ages. He never leaves.”

“Damn.
That’s awful.”

Daniel
had been a classmate of Michael’s. They’d been on the basketball team together.
Allison had never been close to him, but she still hated the thought of his
being damaged so terribly in a boating accident.

By
comparison, having great sex with Michael and then not knowing what to do
afterwards wasn’t really such a serious a problem to have.

*
* *

Michael wondered why Allison
didn’t push the issue.

Curiosity
had always been at the heart of the girl he remembered. He knew she wasn’t
satisfied with his evasive answers about Gina, but she hadn’t kept prying or
trying to get the real story out of him.

Something
about her restraint triggered his interest. He wanted to know why she didn’t
care enough to pursue her questioning.

After
last night, Michael felt closer to her. He was sure she did too. He wanted her
even more now than he had yesterday. She sat across the kitchen table from
him—frowning and composed, with tousled hair and clean face, wearing jeans and
a simple, fitted t-shirt. Nothing about her was provocative or overtly sexy.

But
his attention lingered on flush of her cheek, the curve of her hips, the
gracefulness of her hands. And the look in her eye—somehow both knowing and
deliciously untouched.

Allison
was a mystery to him. Foreign and familiar at the same time. He wasn’t about to
tell her the truth about Gina, but he wasn’t ready to be rid of her yet, as
he’d half expected to be after satisfying his physical desire last night.

He
smiled at her, using the seductive expression and tone of voice that had never
failed him in the past. “If the roads are flooded out, we might be trapped here
another day.”

Allison
looked eminently unimpressed. “Do you ever think of anything but sex?”

He
blinked in surprise at her blunt question but recovered quickly. “Of course, but
we might not have anything else to do. I believe in turning circumstances
around to their best advantage.”

“To
your
advantage, you mean.”

“You
think I’m the only one who would enjoy another round of sex?” His voice was
slightly husky as he remembered the intense pleasure of sinking inside Allison’s
body.

Her
cheeks reddened in a delectable way, but she replied gamely, “Let’s see if
we’re able to get out of here. Then we can discuss who will enjoy what and for
how long.”

*
* *

A half-hour later, they
got into Allison’s SUV and headed down the road in the direction they’d both
been originally driving. It didn’t take long for them to discover that the
bridge was still washed out.

So
Allison turned the car around, and they made their way back down the road,
intending to backtrack until they were able to hook up with the interstate.

They’d
gone about twenty miles—running into no obstacles more problematic than a couple
of fallen trees that were easily skirted or pushed out of the way—when the road
crested over a small hill. When they reached the top, they saw that the road at
the bottom was completely.

Allison
groaned and eased the SUV to a halt.

“That
doesn’t look promising,” Michael said. He’d been checking Allison’s mobile
phone to see if he could get any reception, but now he put it down.

“I
know you’re not supposed to drive through standing water,” Allison said, edging
closer to the flooded section of the road. “But do you think it’s worth a try?
Maybe it’s just this one section.”

Michael
thought for a moment. Then shook his head. “I don’t think we should risk it. The
water looks really deep. We don’t want to damage your car, for one thing. It’s
our only way out of here. And this whole area is marsh. It’s probably like this
for the next thirty miles.”

“Yeah.
I guess you’re right. Shit.”

“If
you don’t mind, maybe we can stop by my car so I can at least get my
belongings, assuming they’re still there.”

“Sure.
Why not?” She sounded disappointed, but not completely disheartened as she did
a five-point turn and started driving back the way they’d come.

The
region was fairly familiar to Michael, since he’d grown up in the area, but
with the high water, wind-blown trees, and absence of the normal pick-up trucks
and locals, the whole area looked like a strange, alien land.

Michael’s
damaged SUV was still crashed into trees on the side of the road where they’d
left it. It was clearly undrivable, so he just grabbed his briefcase and
overnight bag, both of just where he’d left them behind the front seat.

He
checked his own mobile, but it didn’t get any reception either. Signal was
spotty around here normally, and with the storm damage it was hopeless.

They’d
started driving back toward the house when Allison hit the brakes, slowing down
abruptly. Michael immediately saw the reason.

A
soaked, bedraggled dog—some sort of a lab mix—was limping down the side of the
road.

“Poor
bastard,” he said, feeling a brief tug of sympathy that wasn’t entirely
characteristic for him. “Looks like he’s had a rough time.”

Allison
didn’t answer with words. She just put the SUV into park.

Realizing
what she was about to do, he began, “Allison, don’t—there’s nothing we can—”

His
words were useless. She was already out of the car.

Michael
had no choice but to get out too. There was no telling whether or not the dog
was friendly, and he couldn’t let her go chasing it around the countryside on
her own.

“Are
you all right, fella?” Allison called out, in a coaxing voice. “Come here and
let me check you out. We’ll see if you’re hurt.”

“Allison,
we can barely take care of ourselves in this situation. You really think we
need to try to cope with a stray?”

“It
might not be a stray.”

“It
doesn’t have a collar or tags.” The dog’s brownish fur was wet and muddy, and
it looked far too skinny to have been well cared for before the storm. Michael
didn’t think it was a family dog who had been tragically stranded by an
evacuating family. It was probably just a stray who’d slunk its way through the
wind and rain.

“Well,
I’m not going to leave it on the side of the road. The poor thing looks like
it’s about to drop.”

This
Michael couldn’t argue with. The dog appeared to be on its last legs. He just
shook his head as Allison called the animal over.

After
a minute, her coaxing and extended hand appeared to reassure the nervous dog.
It limped over, sniffing at her palm hopefully.

“I
don’t have any food,” Allison said, stroking the wet head. “But I’ll find you
something at the house. Poor little guy.”

Michael
was relieved to see that the dog appeared to be friendly. At least it wasn’t
openly hostile.

Allison
tried to urge the dog to jump into the back of her SUV, but the animal was
apparently too scared. It flattened itself on the road, looking in excited
bewilderment between her and the open door.

“Michael?”
Allison asked, turning pleading eyes toward him.

He’d
been watching the procedures in cool silence, but now he rolled his eyes. He’d
been afraid it would come to this. “You can’t be serious.”

“He
needs help getting in.” She gave him a beseeching smile that would have been
very effective had her eyes not glowed with ironic humor. “And you’re so much
stronger than I am.”

Michael
bent over and heaved the dog up, scowling as he felt mud and moisture seep onto
his clothes as a result. “I hope you appreciate this,” he muttered.

The
dog apparently thought he was addressing him. He lifted his pitiful head and
gave Michael a few sloppy kisses on the chin.

Allison
didn’t quite manage to stifle her chortle of amusement. “Look how grateful he
is.”

Michael’s
scowl deepened as he set the dog down in the backseat. “I’ll have you know, I’m
not at all impressed by canine ingrates.”

The
reward for his cool arrogance was Allison’s rippling laughter and a spray of
mud on his already dirty clothes as the dog shook himself off with exuberance.

They
took the dog back to the house, where Allison found him some semi-stale
crackers and canned meat product to eat. Then she decided he needed a bath.

By
that point, Michael didn’t even bother to object. Allison was too stubborn to
listen to his reasoned comments, and he couldn’t think of any good reason not
to bathe the dog anyway. It stunk, so a bath could only help.

Although
he made it clear that this was Allison’s idea so she was going to have to do
all the work, Michael joined the procedure in the bathroom as she lathered up
the dog with shampoo. He aimed the handheld showerhead on the sudsy animal as Allison
tried to rinse off the soap.

It
was a messy process, made more complicated by the fact that the dog struggled
against the attempts to clean it off. More than once, it tried to climb out of
the tub, and soon both Michael and Allison were as wet as the dog.

In
another context, Michael might have been annoyed by being wrangled into bathing
a stubborn animal. Allison couldn’t stop laughing, however, and it didn’t take
long before Michael saw the humor himself. He didn’t laugh—that would have been
admitting defeat—but his voice was warmer than usual as he tried to give Allison
sage advice on how to proceed.

“If
you’re so smart,” she said, glaring up at him, “Why don’t you get down here and
try it?” At this point, she was practically hugging the soaked dog to hold him
in the tub.

“Don’t
forget, I would have been perfectly happy to leave the ingrate on the side of
the road.”

“I
haven’t forgotten,” she replied. “Heartless ass.”

Michael
chuckled, but he knelt down beside her and reached out to get a grip on the
dog. “Take the spray and see if you can get the rest of the soap off.”

The
dog must have realized that Michael’s solid grasp wasn’t as easy to squirm out
of as Allison’s. After a minute of struggle, it stood pathetically in place as Allison
rinsed it off. While she worked over it, the dog lifted its head and tried to
lick Michael’s face again.

“That
doesn’t work on me,” he said, thinking the dog really wasn’t that bad. It
seemed friendly and fairly intelligent—it just needed to be cared for better.
“You’re going to have to finish your bath.”

When
he realized that Allison was giving him a strange look, Michael decided having
conversations with dogs was better kept for private.

He
lifted the dog out of the tub when they were finally finished, and Allison used
three towels in her attempt to dry the ingrate off.

As
she laughed at the dog’s eagerness to be dried, Michael couldn’t help but think
about how different she was from Gina. At the moment, she was an absolute
mess—wet, bedraggled, and sprawled on the bathroom floor. But she could hardly
restrain her amusement and the delight she took in facing the challenge of the
dog's bath.

Allison
didn’t care about her image or about being treated a certain way, and she was
willing to work—put her whole effort into a task—when she believed it was
something worth doing.

He
remembered that from when he’d known her before. She’d worked so hard that
summer she’d been an office intern for his father—and not just because she
wanted a good recommendation at the end of the summer.

It
was just who she was.

For
some reason, that quality made more of an impact on him now. Maybe he’d been
surrounded by cynical, entitled people for too long, but Allison seemed
different—from everything he was used to.

When
she finally stood up, flushed and perspiring and gorgeous in her damp, clinging
clothes, she grinned at him. More sincere than any smile he’d seen from her in
the last two days.

Momentarily,
it took his breath away.

Rescuing
and bathing a stray dog would not have been the way he would have chosen to
spend the afternoon.

But
it wasn’t a bad day at all.

*
* *

Allison was pleased
with the condition of the dog. He was a nice fellow, and he’d obviously needed
rescuing.

Plus,
she wouldn’t have traded the sight of Michael kneeling next to the bathtub—wet
and hassled and trying not to laugh—for the world.

After
she’d cleaned up and dried off, she changed into flannel pajama pants and a
clean t-shirt. She was running out of clothes in her overnight bag. Since they
were stuck here again for the rest of the day, she decided she might as well be
comfortable.

BOOK: Storm Front (Reunited Hearts)
4.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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