Page 34 of The Storm Boys Series Collection

Being here with me was good for him.

He was good for me too.

With the last of the supplies put away, I took his face in my hands and kissed him. “What was that for?” he asked with a smile.

“Thank you,” I said. “For being here. For being great. I love you.”

He grinned, his long hair tousled by the wind. “I love you too.”

“You know what we should do?” I asked. The wind stopped as though it was listening to us and wanted to hear my answer. But then the rain dropped, fat and heavy drops in a deluge. A crack of thunder boomed right above us.

We both ducked on instinct and laughed. “Holy shit!” he yelled over the roar of the storm. “What should we do?”

Leaning in, I still had to yell so he could hear me. “We should fuck all afternoon.”

He looked at me, wide eyed, and he laughed. “Oh really?”

I nodded and gestured to the empty tents. “No guests today.”

Just then, the old Jeep pulled up. “What were you saying?” Derek asked.

I waved him off. “Tully doesn’t count.”

“Pretty sure he does.”

Tully Larson was the storm chaser who would use our camp as a base intermittently during the height of the electrical storm season. He had another camp further up toward the coast, still in Kakadu, but access was tough going in the wet season. He’d arrive here, say hello, maybe stay a night or two to wait for the perfect storm, then disappear into the wilderness for days on end.

Only this time, he was bringing someone.

His guest was a meteorologist from Melbourne, apparently. A fulminologist, to be exact. If you’d ever heard of such a thing. Someone who studies lightning.

Tully ran into the communal kitchen area, unfazed by the rain, his grin wide. His blond shaggy hair stuck to his head, his shirt clung to his chest, but he didn’t seem to care. He was a storm chaser after all. Rain was nothing to him.

“G’day fellas,” he said, shaking my hand, then Derek’s. “Real good to see ya’s again.”

Another man appeared then, just as wet but clearly more bothered. He was dripping water from his short dark hair, he had stunning dark blue eyes, and a frown. He was also wearing proper shorts and a button-down shirt and boots; his outfit screamed scientist on a field trip, but at least he wore boots.

God, he had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.

“This is Jeremiah,” Tully said. “Jeremiah, this is Paul and Derek. They run this place. And they live here.”

“You live here?” Jeremiah asked. Stunned. Horrified. “All the way out here?”

I laughed and gestured to the wall of water that was rain just a few feet away. “Best address on the planet. But,” I pointed to our cabin, “more specifically, that’s our home right there. Tully will look after you tonight, but if there’s an emergency, you come find us.”

Then I clapped Tully on the shoulder. “I put you guys in tent one. Fridge is full. You know where everything is. We’re gonna be busy for a few hours. If you need us for anything, you don’t need us for anything.” I winked. “If you know what I mean.”

He grinned. “Loud and clear.”

Derek and I made a quick run for our cabin. He locked the door, and I grabbed us a towel each before we stripped out of our wet clothes. “I can’t believe you told him that,” Derek said.

I laughed. “Remember when you thought me and the storm guy were a thing?”

Derek rolled his eyes as he dried himself. “That was before I ever met him. He’s cute, in a Patrick Swayze fromPoint Breakkinda way, but he’s not your type. I know that now.”

“Oh really? What’s my type?”

He threw his towel onto the bed, standing before me stark naked. “Me. I’m your type.”

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