Page 57 of The Storm Boys Series Collection

“Where to?”

“The furthest end of the clearing.”

He snorted. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Yes.”

“I was just being helpful.”

“You’d be a whole lot more helpful if you stuck that in the ground—” I pointed to the far end of the field. “—over there.”

He walked off with a pout—which was just as cute as his smirk—and when he was out of earshot, I let out a sigh.

What had gotten into him?

He was full of innuendos and insinuations. He’d asked me if I’d slept in the same bed as a man before. He wanted me to take my shirt off. He wanted to rub sunscreen on my body...

Oh god. Was he actually flirting?

For real?

I watched him walking off to the far end of the field. His broad shoulders, his longish blondish-brown hair, his muscular legs.

No, he wasn’t my usual type.

But damn, he could be...

“Is this far enough?” he yelled.

He’d gone about 75% of the distance but it didn’t matter. I only needed a moment without him near me to try and clear my head. I gave him a thumbs-up and got busy setting up my laptop. The satellite radar was lagging, blinking in and out. “Dammit.”

“Oh, I can tell ya when it’ll hit and how big she’ll be,” Tully said, walking back. That annoying not-annoying annoying grin in place.

I squinted at him. “What?”

“The storm,” he said. Then he pointed skyward, over the line of trees in the direction we’d come. “Don’t need no radar for that. Can’t you feel the drop in pressure?”

I took stock of myself. “I, uh... I was busy.”

I was busy thinking about you.

Tully reached into the back of the Jeep. “Help me pull the canopy on.”

I closed the laptop and helped him lift the roof on and clamp it into place, which he did with considerably more ease than me. By the time I was done, he’d packed up my crate and put it in the back. “Come on, we’ll drive up to the other end so we can watch her come in. She’s blowin’ in from the east, pushed back by the warm air from the ocean up north. And you know what that means...?”

“Well, I know what it means when cold air meets warm air in a low-pressure front,” I said. “But in relation to your directional points of east and north, given I’m not from here, I’m not too familiar.”

He laughed, and after we passed the tripod he’d stuck into the ground, he pulled the Jeep to a stop. “Storms from the east tend to get a little wild.”

A thrill buzzed through me. Not just from his stupid smile and the spark in his eyes, but from the mention of a wild storm.

Just then the wind picked up, making us both turn in the direction we’d come. And sure enough, above the tree line, due east, was a front of clouds. Dark, bubbling, and brewing, with gentle intra-cloud sparkles of lightning, as if someone had filled a jar with black cotton balls and fairy lights.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

The skies replied with a crack of thunder so loud, so close, it felt like a physical blow.

“Jesus!” Tully cried, ducking down.

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