“Roads are already flooding!” he says over the loud pitter-patter of the rain. “Keon tried to move the SUV closer but can’t! We’re stuck here until it clears!”
I blink at him. “Define stuck!” I have to shout.
“Stuck as instranded,” he answers. “Maybe overnight! Depending on drainage!”
Oh you have got to be kidding me.
Keon and Thorne stumble inside. Both of them are dripping wet.
“It’s a nightmare out there!” Thorne shouts over the rain.
Marisol appears with an armful of spare linens and cotton shirts that look like they’ve been donated over the years for exactly this kind of emergency. She hands a set to Corin along with a pair of worn sandals and a towel.
“You can change in there,” she says, pointing at a small office nearby.
Corin takes the clothes with a nod of thanks. He disappears into the office and closes the door behind him.
A minute later the door opens and he emerges in dry sand-colored linen pants and a loose white cotton shirt, barefoot in the sandals. His hair is still damp but he’s toweled it dry.
Still manages to look effortlessly put-together, despite used clothes that barely fit.
Thorne enters the office to change next.
Meanwhile two local volunteers who stayed to help pack up are getting cots set up in the main hall.
Marisol gestures toward the small office again. “Mr. Saelinger, you should take the office! It has a door, and the air mattress is relatively new! Well, new-ish! Only deflates a little!”
Corin glances at the office, then at me, then back at the office. I can practically see the calculation happening behind those dark eyes.
“The office is too small!” he says over the rain. “Barely fits one person! Ms. Khan and I will take the storage room! More space!”
Wait.
What?
Marisol looks confused. “You’re sure? The storage room has a futon but it’s not exactly luxurious!”
“We’ll manage!” he says, and I swear there’s the faintest hint of satisfaction in his voice. You know, the smug satisfaction of a man who just engineered exactly the outcome he wanted while making it look like a sacrifice?
I narrow my eyes at him.
He meets my gaze with perfect innocence.
Suspicious.
Highly suspicious.
Because he basically just declared that he and I would be spending time alone together in a room with one piece of furniture. Maybe even the night.
I could insist on taking the small office. Or one of the cots in the main hall.
Should, even.
But I say nothing.
Why?
I have no idea.
