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“No, it sure isn’t, but maybe I can talk the landlord into putting in a fireplace.”

Griffin laughed again and removed his hat, gloves and coat. “I hear the guy’s totally unreasonable, so I doubt he’d go for it.”

Jeremy laughed with them, then sprang to his feet when Christy Joy appeared at the top of the stairs. “How’s Twink?”

“She’s asleep, which is a good place to be on such a rainy afternoon.”

“I agree, and it’s nice being on dry land too.”

He sure didn’t look dry, though and, forgetting her earlier disappointment in his reticence to confide in her, Christy Joy brought him a towel and tossed one down to Griffin. The telephone rang in her apartment, and she hurried to answer before it woke her daughter. When she returned, she was near tears.

“That was J. Lyle. He heard how hard it was raining here and that the power had gone out. He wanted to make certain Twink was all right. I assured him she was snug in her bed, but he went on a rant about a cold, dark apartment. He said he was on his way to get her and hung up.”

Darcy left her place at the children’s table and started up the stairs. “Please don’t be upset. He probably won’t be able to reach us in this weather.”

“You know J. Lyle, he’ll rent an amphibious vehicle if he has to, but he’ll be sure to arrive in a few hours.”

Jeremy reached out for her hand and gave her fingers a fond squeeze. “Doesn’t Twink ever visit her dad?”

“Sure she does, but those are scheduled visits, unlike today, which he’ll undoubtedly describe as a damn rescue.”

“How big a guy is he?” Griffin inquired.

“He’s six feet tall, one hundred-eighty pounds, and he runs and belongs to a gym. What are you thinking, that you’ll just punch him out?”

“That could get messy,” Griffin offered, “but it will help that there’re two of us.”

Christy Joy just shook her head. “He’ll call you Popeye, Jeremy, I can hear it already.”

“It won’t be the first time, but I’ve always been rather fond of Popeye and don’t regard it as an insult. Of course, if you’d rather I weren’t here when he arrives, I’ll wait in Darcy’s office until he leaves.”

Christy Joy slipped her hand from his, sat on the top step and hugged her knees. “Wouldn’t you rather return to your boat? At least there you could make some hot soup and have a bunk to lie down.”

“What, and miss out on all this fun?” Jeremy sat beside her and gave her a hug. “No, ma’am, I’m staying right here.”

Darcy looked toward Griffin, who was observing her with a curious glance, but he made no such cheerful declaration, and she was too proud to let him know how much she liked having him there. His presence was a comfort until a rumbling blast of thunder shook the whole building.

“That was too close!” Christy Joy cried.

“I thought you said it was clearing up,” Darcy reminded Griffin.

“I meant it at the time, but clearly weather forecasting isn’t an exact science.”

Darcy left the stairs to check the front door but the situation hadn’t worsened. She strained to see the shops on the opposite side of the street, but there wasn’t so much as a candle’s glow from any of them. Maybe their owners were working frantically in the dark to prevent flooding, but there was no evidence of it from where she stood. She was about to turn away when Griffin came up behind her.

“Do you think we’re going to end up sitting on the roof like those poor flood victims in the Midwest?” she asked.

“Probably not.”

His voice was softly reassuring even if his words were not. “Well, I wish we had an inflatable raft handy just in case.”

“Darcy, look at me.”

She swallowed hard before she turned toward him, then still had to force herself to look up. There was barely enough light for her to see him clearly, but he looked too serious to mistake his mood.

“I meant what I said about playing on the same team,” he whispered, “and I wasn’t simply referring to sweatshirts. I’m looking for a lot more from you. Is it just this building that holds you back?”

“Is that a trick question?”


Tags: Phoebe Conn Romance