Page 37 of Into the Tempest

As if his mind had taken him to similar places, Tully tightened his arm around me and kissed the side of my head. “Get some sleep. We’re gonna need it.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

TULLY

Jeremiah wasin the shower early; it wasn’t even five. He’d slept fitfully at best, tossing and turning most of the night.

I know this because I did too.

I went downstairs, flipped the light switch and sighed when I saw the view to the ocean was gone, boarded up.

The reason for the lack of sleep...

Hazer was coming.

I filled the water tank on the coffee machine and turned it on and set about makin’ two coffees. And some eggs on toast. I knew there’d be little chance of Jeremiah eating today, so I had to put some food in his belly.

He came down the stairs just as I was plating it up. “Oh,” he said, looking at the spread on the table. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” I said, putting our plates down. “For my boyfriend, the man I love.”

He sputtered and blushed and sat down, speechless apparently.

“I told you I’ll tell you all the time,” I said, givin’ him one of those grins I knew he secretly loved. “Eat up. You’ve got a big day.”

“We all do,” he said quietly. “It’s not too late to leave, you know.”

I ignored that and squirted tomato sauce over my eggs.

The utter silence from across the table made me look up. Jeremiah was gawping at my plate. Horrified.

It made me laugh. “He who has not tried it shall not judge.”

“I’m trying very hard not to judge,” he said flatly. “Though I’m beginning to question your taste.”

“My taste also includes you.”

“That’s why I’m questioning it.”

I laughed. “If I made some fancy tomato relish and gave it a fancy name, you’d think I was posh.” I shovelled in a mouthful of eggs and sauce and bit into some toast for good measure, then spoke with my mouth half full. “But I ain’t fancy.”

He chuckled. “I can see that.”

We ate in silence for a bit, then I nodded to the boarded-up view. “I hate not being able to see outside.”

“Blue skies this morning until lunchtime,” he said. “Top of thirty-five degrees, humidity is currently a moderate sixty percent, but that will climb until breaking point around six o’clock tonight when the storm rolls in.”

I stared at him. “Are you a walking weather station?”

He gave a shrug as he sipped his coffee. “It’s what I do.”

I shovelled in the last of my eggs, stood up, and downed my coffee. I gave his shoulder a squeeze on my way to the sink with my plate. “I’m gonna have a quick shower; then I’ll drive you. We’ll take one car, and I’ll drop you off. I wanna get some cameras set up,” I explained. “Can I use your gear for that?”

He shot me a surprised look. “Yes, of course. I forgot about that. I’ve been so busy and distracted... I should have thought about that.”

I went over and kissed the top of his head. “You’ve been a tad busy, so it’s understandable. Now, eat up. I won’t be long.”

I took the stairs two at a time, had the quickest shower ever, and trotted back down. He’d cleared away the table, set the dishwasher going, but was staring blank faced at his laptop screen.

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