Hot in Here

by Lori Foster

  “I could just have you for breakfast,” he murmured.

  Oh, if only there were time. “I’m sure I’d love it,” Liv admitted, leaning into him and sighing. Sadness intruded, and she pointed out, “But we need to eat, and I still need to shower and put on my makeup before I face the public.”

  Saying, “You don’t need makeup,” Hamilton effectively swept away her melancholy.

  Liv rolled her eyes. “Don’t overdo it, okay? There are mirrors in the house, and I’ve already seen one.” She turned to kiss his chin.

  His hand moved down her back to her bottom. Fingers spread, breath warm in her ear, Ham said, “I think you’re beautiful.”

  The compliment, coupled with his touch, nearly took her knees out. “Well, thank you. But we still don’t have much time, and I’m still going to put on my makeup.”

  Giving her backside a pat, he said, “Tonight, then.”

  Yes, tonight. And then she’d ask him about his intentions, when his obligation to the military ended and when they could marry. But that could wait until they finished the burial arrangements.

  While Ham washed up at the sink, she said, “I want to swing by the school to pick up my car while we’re out.”

  “Sure.” He knelt down to pet Jack, who lifted his furry head with delight. “I was thinking—will Jack be okay here by himself while we’re gone? If that storm hits again, is he going to be scared?”

  “We’re in Ohio. It storms here all the time, remember? I just need to put him in the bathroom with a radio playing. It helps drown out the thunder and with no windows in there, he can’t see the lightning. He’ll probably sleep until we get home.”

  Ham continued to stroke the dog, who wallowed in the attention. “I had this awful image of him hiding under the bed, trembling in fear.” Ham shook his head. “Not a pretty picture.”

  He never failed to please her with his consideration. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  His gaze met hers, warm with insinuation. “As long as I’m yours, that’s all I care about.”

  The words were almost too wonderful to believe. “You’re mine all right,” she said with mock warning. “And I’m never letting you go, so don’t get any ideas.”

  He’d been teasing, but now he grew solemn, pushing back to his feet, standing close to her. “That’s something we need to talk about, isn’t it? The future, how we’re going to work this all out.”

  That sounded too serious by half. Liv bit her bottom lip, and nodded. “Yes.”

  He searched her face, glanced at his watch and scowled. “I suppose now isn’t the time.” He wrapped his hands around her upper arms, caressing. “How are you holding up? I know today isn’t going to be easy.”

  Liv touched his face. “Actually, I’m fine. Sad, of course. And a little hollow with the knowledge that I’ll never see Dad again, that opportunities are lost. But thanks to you, I have good memories now, too, memories that had been buried beneath resentment. That was wrong of me, but from what you told me, Dad didn’t have any grudges.”

  “No. Weston loved you a lot, he just wasn’t a very demonstrative man.”

  “Unlike you, Howler?”

  His crooked grin looked boyish and reeked of charm. “You’ve never called me that.”

  “But everyone else does.” She turned to seat herself at the table, and Hamilton did the same. “I listened last night, you know.”

  Swallowing a mouthful of pancakes, Hamilton cocked an eyebrow.

  “I kept thinking you’d…well, howl.”

  He almost choked on his food, then burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope. What else would Howler mean? Howling during sex. Howling out your pleasure. I naturally assumed it was something like that.”

  “Well, smart-ass, for your information, I never howl.”

  “Not during sex, anyway.” She carefully forked a bite of buttery pancake. “It’s more like a growl. Or a groan.”

  He fought a grin. “What I do is roar. And only when I’m really pissed. But guys being guys, and pilots being bigger jackasses than most, they took a perfectly acceptable roar and starting labeling it a howl.” He shrugged. “It stuck.”

  Liv let out an exasperated breath. “Well. I’m almost disappointed.” Her lips twitched. “After all, it’s something you and Jack could have had in common.”

  Displaying an enormous appetite, Hamilton shoveled down the last of his pancakes, then stood. “You wanna hear me howl, I can howl.” He pulled out her chair and lifted her to her feet. “Let’s shower together. If we hurry, we’ll have enough time before we have to leave. Plenty of time for—”

  “Howling?”

  He lifted her into his arms. “Exactly.”

  *

  IT TOOK HOURS BEFORE all the arrangements were complete. Watching Liv, how she dealt with it all while keeping her emotions in check, putting up a brave, proud front, made Hamilton want to burst with pride. He interjected where necessary, supplying information about the air force’s contribution to the service, and by the time they left the funeral home, they had everything in order.

  His arm around Liv’s shoulders, his thoughts focused on her and her turmoil, Ham walked her outside to the rental car. As predicted, the storm loomed overhead again. Low-hanging clouds, bloated with rain, scuttled across the sky. Hamilton and Liv got into the car just as the sky opened up and the storm attacked with a vengeance, this time supplying large hail and tree-bending winds. Against the roof of the car, the hail sounded like gun shot. Debris rolled over the ground and already the streets were awash with runoff.

  Wide-eyed, Liv snapped on her seat belt. “Talk about Mother Nature’s fury.”

  Ham stared out the windshield. He didn’t like the looks of this storm. Something about it, something beyond the obvious, put him on edge. Making up his mind, he said, “I’d wait for it to let up, but I hate the thought of Jack home alone.” He started the car and eased out of the lot into the street. “The sooner we get home, the better.”

  Watching the storm through the passenger-door window, she said, “I’m sure Jack will appreciate your concern.” Then she glanced at him and added, “Don’t forget, I want to get my car.”

  Incredulous, Ham tightened his hold on the wheel. “In this downpour?” He gave a grunt of disbelief. “No, I don’t think so, babe. Those hailstones are the size of marbles.”

  Slowly, her head turned toward him. “I’m not one of your men, Lieutenant Colonel. You don’t dictate to me.”

  Uh-oh. Maybe he’d worded that wrong. Ham worked his jaw and tried for an olive branch. “We can go back later and get it.”

  “It might rain all day, Hamilton, so don’t go caveman on me. I want to go now while we’re already out, and with the school day over, I don’t have to worry about running into anyone. Not that I don’t appreciate their concern, but… I’d rather not face a lot of sympathy and condolences right now.” Her hands laced together in her lap. “Not after just making the arrangements. I need some time.”

  “Liv…”

  “I’ve driven in rainstorms before, and I’ll drive in them again. Since I’m usually alone, I don’t have much choice.”

  She sounded entirely reasonable—but it grated on him that she’d ever been alone, without backup or support. He was with her now, and if he had his way, she would spend very little time alone in the future. “I’ll have Doc bring it over tonight.”

  “I don’t want to impose on her.”

  “She’s a friend. She won’t mind.”

  “I mind.” When Hamilton didn’t reply, she rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, rain hasn’t gotten the best of me yet. Besides, I think we’ve driven out of the worst of it.”

  Hamilton didn’t want to, but he had to agree. The sky had suddenly calmed, the rain fading to a mere drizzle.

  “All right. But my agreement is under duress.”

  Grinning, she quipped, “Duly noted.”

  Because it was on the way, they reach
ed the school in a matter of minutes. By the time Ham pulled into the mostly deserted school lot, the rain had completely stopped.

  “Look at that,” Liv said, pointing out the sight of the clear, sunlit skies moving in behind the storm. “You were worried about nothing.”

  Hamilton narrowed his eyes at the calm, greenish sky. He couldn’t recall ever seeing anything like it.

  Since Liv got out of the rental car, he did the same. She circled the hood to reach him and twined her arms around him in a bear hug.

  Pleased with her open show of affection, Ham returned her embrace. “I like this new side of you. Kissing me and hugging me. I can get used to it.”

  “You better.” She hugged him again before stepping away. “I intend to do it a lot over the next fifty years or so.”

  With that awesome promise, Hamilton forgot all about the oddly colored sky and walked with her to her car. “You know, this’ll sound corny, and don’t take it wrong, but I was hoping that sex would put us on better terms. I wanted to wait until you admitted that you cared about me. I figured sex would help seal the bond between us.” A bond she had denied until recently.

  Liv faced him with chagrin. “That’s why you held out so long? Why you wouldn’t sleep with me before? You needed me to commit verbally first?”

  He trailed his fingertips over her jaw and chin. “Hey, I’m only human.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re admitting it? And here I thought you considered yourself superhuman,” she teased.

  “Yeah, well, if I had realized that sex would have such a profound effect on you,” he said with a grin, “you can bet I would have gotten you naked years ago.”

  Feigning disdain, Liv lifted her chin. “I’ll have you know it wasn’t your skill in bed that did the trick.” She unlocked and opened her car door, then faced Ham.

  She was so damn cute, Ham thought. “It wasn’t, huh?”

  “No, it wasn’t.” She smiled up at him. “It was your promise to leave the military.”

  Those words struck Ham with the force of a missile blast. He went rigid. “I’m not leaving the air force, Liv. I’ve been clear on that.”

  The color leeched from her face. “But you told me—”

  He knew exactly what he’d told her, and apparently she hadn’t been listening. “I said I’d make you happy. And I will.” He caught her arms, feeling the tension vibrating from her. “With compromise.”

  An awful expression stole over her features—disappointment, betrayal, pain. In a barely audible rasp, she said, “I told you I couldn’t.”

  Damn it, he didn’t want to have this conversation in an elementary school parking lot. He didn’t want to have it at all. He’d thought, hoped, that they were already beyond it, well on their way to those fifty years she’d mentioned earlier. “We can make this work, Liv. Just hear me out.”

  She swung away, more wounded than she’d been over her father’s death. Her stance, her expression, her tone, all reeked of accusation. “You told me to trust you. You said you loved me.”

  Jaw tight, eyes burning, Ham leaned his face down to hers and forced out the words he’d thought would save him. “You told me the same.”

  Liv flinched away from him, not denying her love, but not reaffirming it, either. Without looking at him, she whispered, “I…I need to think about this.” She got into her car and started the ignition.

  Ham leaned on her door. Fury, hurt and something more, something almost desperate, churned inside him. “Don’t do this, Liv.” He’d given her so many chances, and he’d made so many plans….

  Big tears hung from her lashes. Her mouth moved, but nothing came out. Then compressing her lips, she closed her door, forcing Ham to step away.

  And she drove out of the lot.

  Without caring that he stood there, watching her go.

  Christ, it hurt. His heart felt trampled. His lungs burned as he sucked in needed oxygen, trying to fend off the awful pain.

  How could she claim to love him, and then not even hear him out? So many emotions conflicted inside him, leaving him lost, furious and desolate.

  Then he heard it.

  A low roar that gained in cadence by the second. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A gust of wind blasted across the lot, buffeting his back, almost knocking him off his feet.

  Ham jerked around, seeing that eerie green sky with new understanding. Tornado sirens began screeching throughout the small town of Denton. Off in the distance, roiling with fury, an enormous black cloud churned, spitting off spectacular shards of lightning, sucking at the ground. He stood transfixed as, a good distance from the school, the funnel scrambled from spot to spot, licking here and there with destructive negligence—hurtling toward the path Liv had taken.

  No. Disagreements and disappointments ceased to exist. He had to get to Liv, had to protect her. The rental car tore out of the parking lot while Ham frantically searched the wet road for the taillights of Liv’s car. As he drove into the path of the tornado, the roar grew, louder and louder. Fierce winds fought the vehicle. Debris lashed the windshield, diminishing visibility. Hamilton registered it all, but wasn’t swayed from his purpose.

  His heart beat in time to his panic, his hands locked on the steering wheel, his gaze unblinking.

  Finally, he spied Liv’s car, stopped in front of the two-lane bridge. The river surged out of its banks, rising high, grabbing trees and rocks with the same ferocity as the tornado did.

  His foot hard on the gas pedal, praying to reach her in time, Hamilton watched in horror as a gusting wind spun her car, throwing it hard against the guardrails. Metal ripped away, leaving a gaping hole on the side of the bridge. As if in slow motion, her car kept turning until finally, it dropped into the muddy, fast-churning water below.

  Ham hit the brakes, bringing his car to a jarring halt. Too far away.

  Too damn far away.

  He exploded from the vehicle in a dead run. Fear drummed in his ears, louder and more insistent than the destructive force of nature. Prayers tripped silently from his mouth, adrenaline pumped through his veins.

  With survival instincts honed by air-force training, he absorbed the destruction around him without letting it slow him down. Beyond the bridge, houses came apart, their roofs flying away, the walls pulling apart. Downed utility poles left live wires snapping and dancing.

  Even as Ham pushed forward against the powerful wind, a huge elm split in half and crashed into the water close to where Liv should be.

  He roared out his anger, refusing to believe she could be hurt. Something struck his face, knocking him back two steps, bringing him to his knees. He was back up in the same second, swiping away the warm trickle in his eyes, ignoring the sudden pain in his right arm and leg.

  Jolting to a halt on the entrance to the bridge, he saw Liv’s car stuck half in, half out of the fast-rising water, a few feet from the fallen tree.

  There was no hesitation.

  Gripping what remained of the guardrail, Ham bolted over the side, close to the shore, and landed hard in the slippery slope of muddy grass, sliding and stumbling to her car. He saw Liv’s face, pale with fear, in her driver’s door window.

  She screamed, but Ham couldn’t hear her words over the storm and sirens and his own clamoring terror.

  Slogging in a rush through the water, he reached her in seconds. She pulled frantically at the door handle, but the car had buckled with the impact, jamming it shut. The trickling into his eyes threatened to blind him, but he again swiped it away.

  Unwilling to wait seconds, much less any longer for rescue workers to reach her, Ham located a heavy rock. When Liv saw him lift it, she scampered back against the passenger’s side door.

  The window shattered into gravel-size pieces of glass. “Are you okay?” Ham yelled, and she nodded, crawling back toward him, her hands frantically brushing his face, her sobs loud and undisciplined, bordering on hysteria.

  “It’s okay,” he yelled. “I’ve got you.” And he hau
led her out and into his arms.

  For reasons Ham couldn’t understand, Liv fought him, cursing and crying.

  He tossed her over his shoulder, pinning her legs down with one arm, holding her backside still with the other. He plodded to the shore with difficulty, each step a strain as the air around them sucked and pushed and pulled.

  The deafening roar seemed all around them, and the rain struck with bruising force.

  Dropping with Liv in his arms, Ham covered her. He sunk his strong fingers deep into the soggy ground to anchor her. His lungs compressed, and he felt light-headed—but no way in hell would he ever let her go.

  At the worst of it, he feared they’d both be torn away and his mind rebelled at such an awful thought. His muscles cramped and trembled with his efforts. Raw determination gripped him. He prayed.

  And then the air calmed, the roar drifting away. Gasping for air, trying to protect her from harm with his body, Ham couldn’t manage to loosen his hold. If anything happened to her…

  “Shh.” Liv touched him, stroking his hair, his neck, with shaking fingers. “It’s over, Ham. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

  Despite her reassurances, he couldn’t unclench. Hell, he could barely draw air.

  “Ham, it’s okay. Let me see your head.”

  His head? Who gave a shit about his head? He found he couldn’t speak so he just pressed in closer to her.

  Her lips grazed his cheek. “Ham, please.” Tears sounded in her voice. “You need to go to the doctor. Your head is bleeding.”

  By small degrees, with mammoth effort, he regained control of his body. The loud rushing of water mixed with the sirens—but the awful, animal roar of the tornado was gone. Hamilton pulled his face from her neck.

  With his heart in his throat, he looked at her beautiful, bruised and dirty face. “You’re really okay?”

  Her lips were bluish with cold, trembling with an excess of emotion. She blinked hard, sobbed again, and said, “I love you so much.” And then, with a surge of anger, “How could you do that? How could you go over that bridge—”

  “You went over.”

  “And risk yourself and—”