Storm Watch

by Jill Shalvis

  “You were never rude.”

  “No? And apparently I didn’t hide it, either.” She put her hood back up, hiding. “Come on. Before it gets worse.”

  He was pretty sure she didn’t mean the storm. “It was a weird time,” he said.

  “Really, Jason? Were you socially awkward and gawky and geeky? Oh, wait, that was me. You were beautiful and perfect and popular.”

  “And you were smart, so damn smart. No, dammit, listen.” He took her shoulders so she’d look into his eyes. “You were different—”

  She snorted her opinion of that and pushed away his hands. “Different. You mean, I had a good personality.”

  “You did.” He laughed when she growled at him. “And I mean you were good different. Amazing different.”

  “Oh, come on. You only talked to me because I did your work for you.”

  “Do you have any idea how cool I thought that was, that you were willing to help me and not want anything from me at all? You didn’t care what anyone else thought. You didn’t add up your worth by who you were sleeping with—”

  “I didn’t sleep with anyone. Not in high school, which I suppose you also knew.”

  Not completely stupid, he kept his mouth shut.

  “Oh, my God. You said I kissed fine!”

  “Actually, I said you kissed like heaven.” He still remembered that day; the hot bleachers, the oak tree…the sun shining down on her hair, her eyes wide on his as he’d lowered his mouth to hers. He remembered thinking, Damn Paul was an idiot, don’t you be, don’t screw it up for her. And then their lips had touched and he’d been unable to think at all.

  After a glorious few tongue-tangling moments under that hot sun, she’d stepped back, licked her lips and politely thanked him.

  Then asked him to show her the rest.

  “What?” he’d asked stupidly.

  “The rest,” she’d repeated in a low whisper. “Show me the rest, more of…this.”

  More? When it’d already been so much deeper than anything he’d experienced? He wasn’t equipped for it, and for the first time in his life, he’d walked away from a girl. Just run off. So dumb, and so unintentionally cruel. He’d hated himself for not trying to explain it to her, for letting her think he didn’t want her. Later he’d tried, but she’d refused to talk about it, telling him that if he brought it up again, she’d kung fu him in the family jewels. He’d believed her. “I can’t tell you how many times I wished I hadn’t walked away that day—”

  “You didn’t walk, you ran. But I understood. You had girls vying to give you the best blow job, and there I was, Virgin Lizzy.”

  He choked out a laugh. “Vying to give me a blow job?”

  “Yeah, they used to brag about it in P.E. class.”

  “Lizzy, no one in high school ever gave me a blow job.”

  She just looked at him.

  “I never got past second base in high school. Well, one time I got my hands down Cindy Potter’s pants, but she wouldn’t put her hands down mine.”

  “Everyone said you were the best kisser in the entire senior class.”

  “I should have been, it’s all I ever got to do. Look,” he said, smile fading. “About that day—”

  “Seriously. What did I tell you about that? I am not going to discuss it. I’ll still kung fu your ass.”

  “About that day,” he said firmly, even while shifting clear just in case. “I could have had you, we both know that, but you were too good for me, and I knew that, too.”

  She looked at him for a long beat. “Do you really expect me to believe that a teenage guy turned down sex because I was too good for him?”

  As he had then, he felt raw and exposed in a way he rarely allowed himself. “I wanted you, Lizzy. I wanted you as badly as you wanted me. I was just afraid.”

  “Uh-huh. You were afraid of the mouse.”

  “You weren’t a mouse. I was afraid of what you made me feel, even back then.”

  She clearly didn’t believe him, and why should she? He looked out the windshield; the storm continued to batter the car with wind and rain and debris. Inside, he felt just as battered. He’d naively thought he’d sleep the day away, maybe see his brother, eat, watch a few games, anything except think about the pain beneath his breastbone, the one that had Matt’s name all over it. Anything except feel.

  Ironic, when all he’d done since Lizzy had shown up was feel. “Lizzy.”

  “Please drive.” She put on her seat belt, looking pointedly ahead.

  She wanted to ignore everything between them. Fine. Far be it for him to bash his head against the wall of her stubborn-ass determination and, telling himself that, he put the Jeep into gear.

  6

  LIZZY WAS GLAD for Jason’s silence. But a mile down the road, he slowed to nearly a stop. In front of them, a fire engine blocked the road.

  Lizzy knew most of the fire personnel in town from working at the hospital, and she was happy to see it was Sam and Eddie manning the roadblock. They stood in rain gear, looking as wet and miserable as she and Jason were.

  Sam and Eddie were from Firehouse Number 34, her favorite because the crew that worked it were like family to her. She attended a monthly card game there with Eddie, and often won. As for Sam, she’d actually gone out with him twice. He was cute, sexy and funny, but she’d learned that he made a far better friend than a potential lover, a decision that had turned out to be the right one since he’d recently hooked up once more with his high school sweetheart, Sara.

  The guys were both happy to see Jason, and the three of them spent a minute catching up. She heard the name Matt for the second time and wondered who that was.

  “Where are you trying to get to?” Sam finally asked Lizzy.

  “Third and Cove.”

  “Ah.” He shook his head. “You can’t get there from here. And, hey, you weren’t at the game the other night.”

  “I picked up an extra shift. And we have to get to Third.”

  Sam cut his gaze to Jason and shook his head. “Glad you’re back, man. Good to see you safe. But to stay that way, you have to stay off Third.”

  “It might be an emergency,” Lizzy said.

  “There’s twenty-four inches of water running through downtown,” Sam said. “We’ve got backup units coming from all over the state, but what we really need is for the storm to pass. I’m sorry, Lizzy, but Dustin would kill me if I let you risk your neck.”

  “Dustin isn’t here.”

  Hearing her desperation, he reached for her hand, eyes warm on hers. “What’s the matter? Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Cece’s renting one of the Third Avenue condos. I think she might still be there.”

  He hunkered over to get his face level to hers. “Are you sure? They were told to clear out.”

  “You know how stubborn she is, and she’s pregnant. Nine months’ pregnant.”

  Sam let out a low whistle through his teeth. “She’s not answering her cell?”

  “It’s off. I’m thinking she’s out of battery.”

  “Or she’s evacuated and out of range,” Eddie said. “The river’s taken over Third Avenue.”

  “I know, but I have to get in there to make sure.” She turned to Sam, the softer of the two. “Please.”

  He grimaced, torn. “Lizzy—”

  “Look, I’ll come right back out again, I promise. But if you don’t let me in, I’ll just go in on foot.”

  Not doubting her for a minute, Sam nodded reluctantly, but he held her gaze as he leaned in and pressed a warm, careless kiss on her lips. “You have my cell.”

  “Yes.”

  “Use it. If you find her or if you can’t—either way I want to hear from you. Ten-four?”

  “Ten-four.”

  They pulled away, Jason handling the road with much more confidence than she could have even faked. “You and Sam,” he said. “A thing?”

  She was surprised at the question, but she knew she’d given him the right to ask when s
he’d crawled into his lap and nearly eaten him up. “We went out twice.”

  “I got a fairly possessive, protective vibe back there from him.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  He laughed softly. “Lizzy, the last look he gave me said ‘I don’t care that you’re Dustin’s brother, if you hurt her, I’ll beat the shit out of you.’”

  She took in Jason’s broad-as-a-mountain shoulders, the sinewy arms that she’d seen without a shirt, the six-pack abs. Sam was built, too, but Jason had an edge that said he’d been to the bowels of hell and fought his way out and had no problem doing it again. “You’re not afraid of Sam.”

  “No. I like Sam. I’m just trying to figure out if you like Sam, too.”

  She’d had boyfriends. Lovers. Not all that many, and she’d never kept one for long because she’d always put Cece first, even when Cece hadn’t needed to be put there, and yeah, so maybe she’d used her as a guard against getting hurt, but whatever. She’d still been with enough men to at least know her own needs. And right now that need was to remain single. Besides, she refused to take a giant step backward just because the guy of her early fantasies was sitting next to her, looking at her, rendering her a teenager again with one slant of those slate eyes.

  He’d known about her crush.

  That was bad enough. She had no intention of telling him she’d apparently never stopped crushing on him. “Sam and I are just friends. And there’s no one else, either. I would never have kissed you the way I did if there was. I’m single if that’s what you’re asking, and I intend to stay that way.”

  He looked at her for a quick beat before turning back to the road. “Me, too. Look, to be honest, I’m damaged goods at best.” Once again, he glanced over at her. “Screwed up in the head,” he clarified. “It’s not exactly conducive to a relationship.”

  “Does that have anything to do with Matt?”

  “I guess it does.”

  “And he’s…”

  “Dead.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “And, Jesus, that never gets easier to say.”

  “A close friend?”

  “The closest.” His voice had lowered, and was laced with pain. “He died on a rescue mission in the Midwest floods six weeks ago.” He eyed the flooding all around them. “Try to appreciate the irony. I certainly am.”

  “Oh, Jase.” She understood the pain. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”

  “We were there pulling people out of a building that had collapsed. I was in the rescue boat and Matt was in the water, trying to reach the victims. There was a hillside, creating a sort of waterfall. We were working not to go over while trying to get everyone in the boat.” He was silent a minute. “Matt was shoving people up to me and I was lifting a badly injured kid when the boat got caught in the current and cap-sized. Matt was trapped beneath it, and drowned.”

  His voice broke a little on the word, and her heart broke for him. “Were you hurt?”

  “Cracked a rib, concussion.” He shrugged. It was nothing, the gesture said. Nothing compared to being dead.

  “Shit. Hang on.”

  She turned forward and saw the problem—two fallen power lines across the road, with the water rushing over and under them so that they writhed like snakes, and sparkled like fireworks.

  Lizzy braced herself as Jason hit the brakes, but he handled the Jeep like he’d been born to it, and the vehicle came to a controlled stop right in front of the downed lines.

  Staring through the howling winds and curtains of rain, he shook his head. “Not good.”

  “Should I call the PUD?”

  “Definitely.” He pulled out his cell and tossed it to her while he backed the Jeep up, away from the live wires. “I’m going to take a closer look.”

  Lizzy nodded as she called information, but when she could only get a recording at the Public Utilities Department, she hung up. The wind shook the Jeep, making it shudder. She looked out the windshield and literally saw nothing but gray as the air thickened with rain and God knows what else.

  She could see no landmarks.

  No Jason.

  She opened the door and, squinting against the spray of rain, yelled, “Jason!”

  Nothing.

  She pictured him trying to move the line and getting electrocuted, and was about to run out into the storm when suddenly through the thick air she saw his outline.

  Relieved, she pushed away from the Jeep, hands out until she slid her palms over his shoulders.

  He turned to face her, his hands immediately reaching for her. “What are you doing?”

  “Hoping you weren’t electrocuted.”

  “Come on, back in the Jeep.” Turning her away from him, he stayed steady and solid at her back as they staggered to the Jeep.

  Inside, he sagged back and wiped the rain from his face. “Hoping I wasn’t electrocuted,” he repeated. “Jesus, I know how not to get electrocuted.”

  “It’s so bad,” she murmured, staring out the window. “So very bad. The whole day…”

  “I don’t know.” He looked over at her, drenched to the skin, his lashes spiky black. “It’s had some good moments if you ask me.”

  Something within her turned over. Her heart, she realized, exposing its tender, vulnerable underbelly.

  “Tell me why you’re not a doctor,” he said quietly.

  “What does it matter?”

  “It matters to you, or it did. That was all you talked about, going to Los Angeles, being at UCLA, going through medical school so that you could be an E.R. doctor. Everyone knew how much it meant to you.”

  “It’s complicated. My parents died. Two weeks after graduation.”

  “My God.” He shoved his hair back from his face. “How did I not know that?” He just shook his head, clearly stunned. “You were so young.”

  “Older than you when you lost your dad.”

  “But I wasn’t alone. I had my mom and Dustin and Shelly. Who did you two have?”

  “No one, which is why I couldn’t just go to L.A.”

  “So you stayed and gave up your dreams.”

  No. She’d never given up the dream. But after six months, she’d known she wouldn’t be able to leave Santa Rey. Cece had been a lost, grief-stricken hell-on-wheels teenager. It’d taken a lot of attention and effort to keep her reined in, which meant she’d had little time for anything else.

  But it’d been worth it. Cece had grown up and taken responsibility for herself. She was doing great, too, with the sole exception of having gotten pregnant by a complete asshole loser. “I’m good with how it all turned out,” she told him quite honestly. She’d come to love her job, and would be sad to leave it. “And actually, I’m going in the fall. The hospital gave me a scholarship for medical school.”

  “I’m glad for that,” Jason said quietly.

  Yeah. Everyone was glad for that.

  Except, oddly enough, her. She kept telling herself it was because it hadn’t hit her yet, that’s all. She’d be over the moon once she got started.

  A heavy gust shook the Jeep. In front of them, the street was becoming lakefront property. She’d never seen anything like it, with the swirling sheets of rain, the shocking howl of the wind.

  Complete havoc.

  “So now I know how you got to be so tough,” he said, reaching over to lightly stroke a finger on her temple, pushing a wet strand of hair away. “So tough, and so unwilling to accept a hand. You lost your support system, and then had to become Cece’s. You’re used to counting only on yourself.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it really so awful to let someone help you?”

  “I’m letting you help,” she pointed out. “Even when I know that this is all a moot point, that Cece is fine.” She paused. “But I’m grateful.”

  “I don’t want you to be grateful.”

  “What do you want?”

  “So suspicious.” He ran his thumb along her jaw, played with her earlobe. “Maybe I just want a peek at your sweet and sunn
y disposition.”

  She had to laugh at that, even as parts of her tingled. She wasn’t sure what they were going to do with all this shimmering chemistry, but she had an idea, and it made her shiver. “Jason.”

  “Lizzy.” He leaned in, his mouth nearly connecting with hers, letting the anticipation build for a beat, until—

  Something smacked into the car hard enough to make her gasp and jump. It was a large branch, which rolled off the hood, landing in front of them. It caught on something in the water and snagged, blocking their way.

  Jason looked out and shook his head. “I’ll get it.”

  He’d just shut the door when his cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She’d forgotten she had it. She debated with herself for a minute, then flipped it open. “Jason’s phone.”

  There was a moment of silence, then a soft, unsure female laugh. “Well, hello, strange woman answering my brother’s phone.”

  Oh, boy. “Uh, hello. Hang on, I’ll get him—”

  “Oh, no, please don’t. I’d much rather talk to you because Jason won’t tell me a damn thing except that he’s alive. Is he okay? Is he really okay?”

  Lizzy took a peek at Jason as he came back into the Jeep. “He is.”

  “Is he exhausted?” his sister asked. “Pale? Are his eyes haunted like they get when he’s first on leave? Because he says he’s fine, but that’s all he ever says since Matt. So maybe you’ll tell me the truth. Is he still hurting?”

  At the love and worry in her voice, Lizzy softened immediately. “Maybe a little.”

  Jason slid her a look. “Who is it?”

  “Your sister.”

  “Don’t tell him I’m drilling you!” Jason’s sister whispered frantically. “He’ll take the phone and tell me he’s fine. That he’s not still blaming himself for Matt’s death.”

  Lizzy felt an overwhelming surge of emotion for his sister, and for Jason. It felt like protectiveness, empathy. Affection.

  And more, so much more. She felt the need to wrap herself around him and squeeze until he felt better, or until she felt better, whichever didn’t come first—