When she opened the door, she was shocked to see Jonathan standing on the other side. He’d shed the suit coat and tie, rolled his sleeves up, halfway to the elbow, and undone the top button on his shirt. “You’re right.” He gave her a cocky grin. “I should help.”
She stared back in disbelief. “Really. Just like that, you changed your mind.”
“That, and the bridge is closed because of a storm watch.”
When tropical storms and hurricanes blew in, the roads between the Keys and mainland Florida flooded. It was common to shut down the bridges before that happened, rather than risk losing cars to floods or wind. Which meant he couldn’t leave the island.
“How altruistic of you. Come on in.” She unlocked the screen door and pushed the latch. The wind ripped the door from her hand, and Jonathan stepped back as it tore open and slammed against the side of the house.
Chapter Two
For about half a second, Jonathan considered bluffing about why he came back, and clinging to theI changed my mind excuse. Bailey would figure out the reality soon, and he’d get shit for it either way. Might as well stick with the truth, mixed with light teasing, and try to gloss things over quickly.
He wasn’t prepared for how she looked when she greeted him. His hand twitched by his side, and he held back the desire to reach up and brush away the smudges of dirt on her cheeks or trace away the tear tracks. He stepped around her. “Thanks.” Now that he’d had time to think, the clouds were gone from his mind, and he could slide into the routine he was used to. “I didn’t expect them to upgrade the storm so fast.” The forecast when he came out here put the tropical storm below Category 1 and predicted it sliding around the peninsula. It might, still. Closing the roads was a precaution. Even if the rain hit, he’d be out of here by morning.
Stepping into the house sent a fresh wave of memories over him, stronger than the gusts outside. Every sight knocked an old image loose, from the orange shag throw-rug covering hardwood in the living room, to the brown couch with a crocheted blanket on the back, to the off-balance wooden entertainment center that shouldn’t have stood for two days, let alone two decades. The power of everything almost made him stumble.
Bailey barely gave him a glance before heading toward the stairs. “If you’re staying here, you’ll want to clean out the fridge. Probably call Greg’s Market and have them drop off some milk, unless you drink your coffee black.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” If she wanted him in the kitchen where she wouldn’t be, that meant no small talk. Given the ice still rolling from her, that was fine, and cleaning out the fridge should be disgusting enough to keep his mind occupied.
The cat looked at him from her perch on the dining room table, yawned, and then settled back down to sleep.Spoiled ball of fluff.He was amused at the disdain, rather than irritated. He picked her up, and she whined in protest. “Sorry, princess. Not on the table.”
He set her on the ground, and she looked up at him for a moment before hopping back up.
“No.” He forced himself to sound sterner. He moved her again, and she returned to her resting spot as quickly.
“She’s more welcome up there than you are,” Bailey called.
“I’m not trying to sit on the table.”
“You know what I mean.” She poked her head around the corner, her scowl telling him she didn’t find the comment as funny as he did.
“Come on.” He gave her the smile that smoothed over most sticky situations. “I’m back, aren’t I?”
“About that— Let’s not gloss over the fact that you don’t want to be here. The barricade that closes off the bridge back to the mainland is twenty minutes away. Half an hour, in the worst weather. Why did it take you almost an hour and a half to return?”