Page 212 of The Storm Boys Series Collection

“It’s gotta face south, right?”

“That’s correct. How do you know that?”

He made a face as we went back outside. “I’m a storm guy, remember? And we made one in high school for science class.”

He carried the box over to where the stand had broken off at the ground, then took his shirt from where he’d tucked it into the back of his shorts and wiped his face with it.

“Ugh, it’s gettin’ hot,” he said, and immediately we both looked up at the sky.

There were dark clouds coming in from the west. Cumulus, low and dark.

Storm clouds.

Our eyes met, and he grinned.

CHAPTER SIX

TULLY

As soon asJeremiah’s gaze went from the incoming storm to me, we both smiled.

An incoming storm while we were on some remote island, without another single person for miles, could only mean one thing.

And bein’ so far from anywhere, with no internet or nothin’, we had no idea how long this storm would last, how deep the trough was, or how good or bad it was going to get.

“I say to hell with the stupid weather box,” I said. “Time for awesome boat sex.”

He checked his watch with a smirk. “Well, it is getting on in the afternoon.” Then he looked out to the water and his smile died. “And I’d rather be on the boat before any crocodiles decide to take shelter on land.”

“Solid plan.”

He closed the door to the cell block, left the box right where it was, and pulled the gate closed. And it wasn’t until he crossed the jetty to the boat that something occurred to him.

“Oh my,” he said, his arms out for balance. “The boat... the turbulence...”

I laughed. “Uh, it’s not called turbulence on a boat,” I said, jumpin’ in beside him and holding onto him. “The seas get choppy in storms. You know this. You issue weather warnings for sea swells all the time, do you not?”

“Well, yes,” he said, gripping onto the doorframe into the cabin. “Theoretically, I’m well aware, thank you. But in practice, I’m never on a boat. My god, Tully, is this even safe? Should we leave?”

I bit back my smile because he was clearly stressing. “Babe, we’ll be fine. We’re securely moored, and this boat is designed for these conditions.”

And the truth was, this wasn’t even choppy yet. But I didn’t tell him that. He was already a little pale.

“How about we get you into the cabin?”

“Good idea.”

I got him situated and closed the door, and he relaxed immediately. But as the skies grew darker and the boat began to rock a little more, his grip on the seat cushion tightened.

“Want something to eat?” I suggested.

He grimaced. “Probably not.”

“Some water?”

He shook his head, and his knuckles were now white.

I was beginning to think that our awesome boat sex was probably out of the question.

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