Page 15 of Wrong Number, Right Mountain Man
Perfect day? I like the sound of that.
"I can drive you home."
Unspoken tension fills the ride across town. Every time I shift gears, my hand brushes her knee. She doesn't move away. If anything, she seems to lean closer, her thigh pressing against mine.
"I can't believe this is happening," she whispers.
"What part?"
"All of it. Meeting you. Feeling like I've known you forever." She turns to look at me, and the heat in her gaze makes my hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Wanting to do very inappropriate things with a man I just met."
Blood rushes south. "Sunny."
"What? We're both adults." Her hand presses on my thigh, fingers splaying across denim. "And I've been wondering what your hands would feel like on me for weeks."
I nearly drive off the damn road. "Keep talking like that, and we won't make it to your apartment."
"Would that be so terrible?"
Before I can answer, we turn onto her street. Something's wrong immediately. There were too many people outside; emergency vehicles were blocking the entrance.
"What the hell?" Sunny sits up straight, her hand leaving my leg.
A woman with a cat carrier explains the water main break, flooding, how the west wing is underwater. Sunny's face goes white.
"West wing," she whispers. "That's me."
She pushes through the crowd toward the building. I follow, catching her arm when a firefighter stops her at the entrance.
"You can't go in, ma'am."
"But my apartment—"
"What unit?"
"3C, west side."
His expression says everything. "I'm sorry. That's ground zero for the damage. Water's been flowing for hours."
She sways, and I move behind her, my chest against her back, arms circling her waist to steady her. She melts into me despite everything falling apart.
"My car won't start," she says, voice hollow.
"I know." My lips brush her ear as I speak, and she shivers.
"My apartment is destroyed. Everything I own." Her voice cracks. "My business plans, my recipes... everything."
She turns in my arms, burying her face against my chest. I hold her while she cries, one hand stroking her hair, breathing in her scent even as my heart breaks for her.
When her breathing steadies, I make the only decision that makes sense.
"Come stay with me."
She pulls back, tears clinging to her lashes. "What?"
"My cabin. Stay with me."
"Beck, we barely know each other."
