“The shed is built pretty tight. I mean, I haven’t checked it for loose boards, but there aren’t any holes or areas where animals can get in and out. I really don’t think this is an animal sleeping.” The closer they got to it, the less he thought it was an animal.
“I wish I hadn’t left my phone with the boys,” Emerson said from beside him.
“Me too.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when the small amount of light that had been coming in shifted, shortening, and then pitch dark descended.
The door slammed shut. But that wasn’t nearly as alarming to Reid as the click of the lock after it closed.
They froze. Then whirled, their arms brushing and their shoulders bumping in the dark.
His hand reached out as he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump you.”
His hand brushed her hair and the soft skin of her neck before he found her shoulder to help steady her. Or maybe to steady himself.
His nerves had been on high alert anyway, and now, the pitch dark and the warm nearness of Emerson stretched them even further.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, a little breathlessly, as her hand landed on his chest.
Despite the thoughts whirling through his head—why had the door closed? It had been hard to push open and wouldn’t have just swung shut. But maybe, more importantly, why had the lock clicked? Despite those thoughts, he was tempted to put his hand over top of hers and hold it there, close to his heart.
It was where he wanted it.
“Pretty sure that was the lock turning after the door shut.” He figured he might as well say it.
“I had the same thought,” she whispered. Then she laughed. “I don’t know why I’m whispering. Obviously whoever shut the door and locked it knows we’re in here.”
“Mom? Dad?” The voice sounded like Houston.
He bent his head down to where he thought Emerson’s ear was. Her scent drifted up, and it smelled like strength and sunshine and that mature woman smell that was both husky and sweet with maybe just a hint of fruit. He almost forgot what he was going to say. So much similarity to the scent he remembered and loved, and yet it was like that scent was all grown-up, too.
“Is that Houston?” he whispered softly, shoving the scent and the thoughts it evoked aside.
“That’s what it sounded like to me, too. Do you think Dallas and he...?” Her voice trailed off almost like she was in just as much disbelief as he was that their kids would do something like this...on purpose.
“Houston?” he said in a much louder voice, inserting as much parental authority into it as he could. “This is a cute joke, but you can open the door now.”
Emerson’s hand was still on his chest, and he pressed it against him, savoring the feel of her touching him, even if it was just through his shirt, and allowing, for just a second, those feelings that he remembered but had buried long ago, and everything they’d meant to each other, to be brought back by that simple touch before he took her hand in his and held it as he walked toward the door. She followed.
“Dad?” This time, it was Dallas’s voice. “Is Mom in there too?”
There was a little bit of fear, or timidness maybe, in his voice, which assuaged some of the anger that had started to bubble in Reid’s chest.
It was almost certain that their children had shut the door and locked it on them deliberately.
Maybe they thought it was a joke. He could laugh about it if they unlocked the door right now.
But it stopped being a joke if they were going to stand outside the door and taunt their parents.
“We’re both in here. And we’re ready to come out. Unlock the door.”
There was silence on the other side of the door.
If there had been any light at all, he would have looked down at Emerson, exchanging information just by looking at each other.
Maybe since the light had been stolen, but he was more aware of her presence beside him, could almost feel her response to the children as well. Very similar to his. She would laugh at this if they opened the door. She was also on the verge of anger.
They wouldn’t allow their children to get away with locking them in the shed for any length of time.
Her hand squeezed his, and he squeezed back. He’d missed that. Most definitely he’d missed having someone