Page 31 of Landon (In Safe Hands)
“Ahouse,” he murmurs, resting his chin on my head.
“Yourhouse collapsed? Oh, Landon, is it completely destroyed?”
“Notmy house. My neighbors. The tornado picked it up and slammed it into thekitchen.”
“Ohgod.” There’s an entire house on top of us? I suddenly feel claustrophobic.“Buried alive,” I mutter, and he pinches my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“No,it’s just the kitchen. Once it’s our turn, they’ll have no problem getting tous.”
“Iheard you mention a baby next door. Is it their house in the kitchen?”
“No,it belongs to the Simmons, an elderly couple across the street. I hope theyweren’t home.”
Mystomach cramps and he must feel me stiffen up. “What is it?”
“Mrs.Simmons, she knocked on the door right after you left. She wanted to borrowsome ice.” My eyes start to burn at the thought of her smiling face. “Said Mr.Simmons broke her ice maker and she needed her nightly cocktail.”
Hesighs. “Damn it.”
“Maybethey’re in their basement too,” I reply, wiping my eyes. I can’t seem to stopthe tears from coming. Who knows how many are dead? That sweet lady could belying in the rubble above our heads. The image of her broken body shatters meand a sob escapes.
“Iknow,” Landon croons, pulling me into his lap. Embarrassed, I bury my face inhis neck until I get a hold of myself. His warm hands run through my hair andstroke my back.
“Sorry,”I mutter. “I swear I never cry.”
“Sweetheart,some terrible shit has happened. Cry all you need to.”
Myheart swells. I feel way too much for this man. “Your house, Landon. I’m sosorry.”
“Theonly thing I can’t replace is safe in my arms.”
Ohgod. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t be friends with him. “I can’t keepworking for you when this is over.”
Heshifts so he can look me in the eye. “You pushing for a raise?” he asks with asmall grin.
“I-Ihave feelings for you. I tried to ignore them, but…I can’t. I’ll stay until youcan find someone to replace me.” I try to scoot off of his lap, but he pulls meback.
“Youaren’t going anywhere,” he growls. “Now or later.”
“Landon…”
“Hush,”he interrupts, cupping my face in his hands. “I feel the same way, Zoe. Youhaunt me. I can’t get you out of my head. From the second I wake, I lookforward to seeing you walk through my door. Hearing your latest insult.”
“Idon’t share, and you said yourself you don’t do relationships.”
Hischest rises and falls with a resigned sigh. “There’s a reason for that. I havea condition and most women find it too difficult to deal with. Too depressing.”
“Acondition? You’re sick?”
“Notexactly. It’s an inherited condition called Xeroderma Pigmentosum.” He chucklesat the confusion on my face, but I’m not laughing. What if he’s terminal? I’vecome to care so much for him so quickly.
“It’sa mouthful, I know. XP for short. My body lacks the enzyme that repairs DNAdamage caused by sun exposure. It means I burn almost instantly. I can’t be inthe sun, even for a minute or two without a major risk for skin cancer.”
“So,you always have to wear sunblock?” I ask. That’s not so bad.
“Sunblockisn’t enough. I can’t go outside in the daylight. Ever.”
“Youyelled at me for opening the drapes,” I murmur, thinking out loud.
