Twisted Up (Taking Chances #1) - Erin Nicholas Page 0,17
was scandalized, we didn’t break the workbench—I think we’re okay.”
Yeah. Okay was one thing she was not.
“Twenty questions,” she agreed. “You go first.”
“Got something in mind.”
Her mind made it dirty immediately. “Is it bigger than a bread box?”
He gave her a lazy smile. “Not quite.”
“Is it hard?”
This game had never sounded so sexual before.
“Yes.”
She swallowed. “Is it warm?”
He paused, and she wondered if a series of hard, warm things was going through his mind like it was through hers.
“Sometimes.”
“Thought the answers had to be yes or no.”
He shrugged. “Neither is accurate all the time.”
Well, she knew where her mind was, and it was always warm.
“Does it make noise?”
He grinned. “Yes.”
Oh, really . . .
A very ominous noise interrupted them. A loud bang, followed by a groaning from outside. The whole building shook and, in spite of herself, Avery felt a shudder go through her.
She grabbed Jake’s hand.
Jake turned up the radio that he’d had sitting next to his hip.
She scooted a little closer, or tried to. Her knees were already pressed against his, giving her very little room to move anywhere but back. She was not backing up. She might hate wanting him and hate how he could reduce her to a brainless twit with a simple smile, but she definitely liked having him under this blanket in this shed with her at the moment.
The air around her was warmer because of him, and his big hands surrounding hers made her feel stupidly safe. She remembered him wrapping his arms around her last year and how she’d been grateful that he’d somehow known she needed that. No one could control the weather, no one could harness and direct a tornado, but if she was going to be in the middle of one, Jake Mitchell was the guy she’d pick to have beside her.
Or directly in front of her, as the case might be.
“A tornado touchdown has been reported in Hall County, two miles southwest of Chance. It is moving northeast at fifty miles per hour. Wind gusts up to one hundred and seventy miles per hour have been reported. If you are in the path of this storm, please take cover immediately.”
Winds of 170 miles per hour did put the storm in the EF4 category. Avery gripped Jake’s hands harder. She’d been through this before. The whole town had. But rather than making it better, it almost made it worse. Knowing what was coming, knowing what could happen, made her stomach knot.
She worked on controlling her breathing and concentrated on what she was going to have to do when this was over. She needed to contact all her volunteers, track down the mayor, set up a command center, tour the town . . .
“Come here.” Jake tugged on her hands.
The action shifted her forward suddenly, and she tipped into his lap. He turned her to sit in the cradle of his legs and wrapped his arms around her. She didn’t protest for a moment. Maybe he was cold, maybe he thought she was cold, maybe he was scared . . . whatever. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“I can’t believe we’re together like this for another tornado.”
He chuckled. “I’ve always liked tornadoes best of all the storms, but I have to say, these last two here in Chance have been exceptional.”
She shook her head. “How can you say that? Your hometown has been hammered.”
“Hot, naked redheads have a way of making everything better.”
She blushed, which was silly. He couldn’t see her anyway, and he’d seen a lot more than her cheeks getting pink not so very long ago. “I wasn’t naked at all last time, and I wasn’t completely naked this time.”
“You’re right. Guess it was a flashback. Apparently it’s hot redheads with their tongues down my throat that make things better.”
She knew he wasn’t making light of the tornado situation and Chance, and she couldn’t argue that there had been tongue. Both times.
“Glad I could help,” she said lightly.
“I do appreciate it,” he said. “And I have a list of ways you could help me in future storms, if you’re interested.”
She laughed but was interrupted by a clattering on the metal roof that sounded like machine-gun fire.
“Hail,” she said unnecessarily.
The howling outside was increasing, and the walls of the shed were vibrating with the power of the storm.
“Heard it before, but it stopped.”
“There was hail before?” She hadn’t heard a thing.
“When we were . . . busy.”
His mouth was right by her ear, and his warm breath washed over her neck.