Page 47 of Knotted Laces

“Thanks, Dan,”I say, and hang up.

Then groan and drop my phone on the counter.

“What is it?” Ats asks, the energy inside her coiled like a snake ready to strike. “Is he coming by?”

I rub at a throb in my temple. “No,” I say. “They’ll need bigger equipment than he can get his hands on right now, especially with the storm still hitting hard.” She makes a sound and I lift my head, meet her gaze. “There’s flooding all up and down the river. He did promise to come as soon as he’s able, but that might be a few—” I hesitate because she’s not going to like this.

Not going to like it at all.

“Hours?” she asks hopefully.

“Days,” I say quietly.

She’s still for a long moment then pushes up out of her chair, cursing softly.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “If I thought for a moment the bridge would go out, I would have gotten us the hell out of here yesterday.”

She plunks her hands on her hips and glances up at the ceiling, quiet for a long moment.

“Ats.”

She drops her head back down. “It’s not your fault.”

“I mean, I’m the one who went rogue and made you come out here.” I move close to her, rounding to her front and crouching slightly to meet her eyes. “I know you don’t want to be stuck here. I’m sorry, cupcake.”

Something flares in her stare and I hold my breath.

But she just sighs again. “Tell me you at least have good junk food.”

“You saw the contents of my kitchen,” I say gently, tilting my head toward the fridge, the cabinets. “What doyouthink?”

“I think…” An exhale, her nose wrinkling. “I think I’m going to have to go out into the rain and get my backup Car Snacks.”

“If I knewyou were holding out on your mom’s cinnamon rolls, I never would have braved the rain.”

My mouth twitches as I pull the plate out of the microwave, thankful that I spent a shit-ton of money last summer redoing the electrical to this property. I’d about pissed myself at the cost of burying the power lines and buying the generator, but considering I can still do things like use the microwave and notworry about the food spoiling, I know the work has already paid for itself.

Plus, it’s the first time I’ve seen a smile on Athena’s face since she woke me up this morning.

It certainly wasn’t there when she was annoyed about it taking forever to rouse me, definitely not when she showed me the bridge, nor when we brought her belongings inside, including those backup Car Snacks.

I put the plate down in front of her. “I’ll even offer you some coffee.” I pull out the Keurig from a high shelf, and the variety pack of pods. “Pick your poison,” I tease as I plug it in. I pull out a mug, take the pod she selects, and start brewing her some caffeine, hoping to keep that smile in place.

And considering the pleasure on her face as she downs my mom’s cinnamon roll, I think that’s in reach.

I sit down with my own plate and take advantage of studying her while she’s distracted.

Curls and cheekbones. Kissable lips and long, thick lashes.

Beautiful. Mysterious. Closed-off.

Except…she hasn’t been that, not since she’s been here.

Maybe not since that hug on my porch.

I’ve seen fury and sass. Strength and focus. And…vulnerability, a glimpse behind those icy shields.

“What?” she says, and I realize I’ve been staring again. Staring so long that I’ve been caught red-handed.

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