AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He took the spot across from her, and nodded at her plate. “Well?”
She took a tentative bite, and her mouth watered when the first flavors hit her tongue. She paused to say, “It’s really good,” before shoveling up another scoop.
He glanced at her every few seconds, as they ate. She should be working on distracting him from the storm, but she was caught in the loop of her mistake that was her marriage. The guilt and self-loathing and blame that gnawed at her brain matter.
It was worse that Jonathan no longer wore that freaking poker face she hated so much. Every time he looked up, pity filled his eyes. Or that was concern, but the mess inside refused to believe she deserved that. Several times he opened his mouth, like he wanted to speak, then turned his attention back to his food.
They finished, and he insisted on helping her clean up. When the dishes were rinsed and the leftovers stowed, she stood next to him at the edge of the living room. She couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact.
“You can’t go out in this weather. I’ll show you where the guest room is.” She turned in that direction before he could say something. She stopped next to the door, as out of his way as possible, and gestured inside. “The bedding is clean. I’m going to get some sleep. Have a good night.”
“Bailey...”
She didn’t turn. Pretended she didn’t hear his soft request over the wind howling outside. When she reached her room, she flopped on the bed and tried to make out the ceiling in the dark. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Not with the onslaught of thoughts tormenting her.
Chapter Nine
Between the storm tearingat the world, and Bailey’s story echoing in his head, Jonathan spent most of the night tossing and turning. He strained his ears, listening for any sound above the rain hammering against the house. Nothing. Did he have cell coverage yet? If so, he could check into work or at least his mail, since it was still ungodly-o-clock on the west coast. He easily sought out the laundry room at the back of the house, extracted his clothes from the dryer, and then dressed.
He found his phone on the kitchen table. Damn it—still no signal. He wandered into the living room and flipped on the TV. Ambivalence filled him, as he watched the scrolling news and radar map. The hurricane probably wouldn’t hit them directly, but they’d catch the edge of it, and that could do significant damage on its own. The highways back to the peninsula were closed. Looked like the Key would be home for the next few days. Once upon a time, that would have been the best news ever. Now, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“At least you waited until morning.” A tired thread ran through Bailey’s cheer.
He spun to face her. Her smile looked as if it took effort, and dark circles sat under her eyes. He wasn’t the only one who didn’t sleep. “Ididpromise. Storm’s supposed to reach full strength by tonight. Do you need help shuttering up?” Should he mention last night? Any of it? Which Bailey would emerge if he did?
“Help would be nice. I’m hoping it doesn’t hit hard enough to flood. If you thought cold bathroom tile in the winter was harsh, try stepping out of bed and into several inches of water.”
He didn’t get a lot of icy tile back home. “You’re not staying here,” he said.
“Excuse me?” She didn’t look upset.
“Nana’s house—sorry,myhouse—has metal shutters, and at least one story that probably won’t flood. It’s safer there.”
She twisted her mouth, and then shook her head. “All right, Mr. Bossy. On one condition.”
“It’s not a negotiation.”
