I tried to think of something to do to occupy the worry shooting through my mind but couldn’t. Watching TV to block out the fears wasn’t going to work. I needed to exorcise the tense energy that flooded my body.
Pacing the floor, I reminded myself that it would probably be a good thing for me to prepare something for dinner. The activity might help me focus on something else besides the lightning that I was starting to see outside my closed windows.
Even though I was hungry, I couldn’t keep myself composed enough when the first loud, rumbling thunder crash rattled the house.
The anxiousness I’d felt minutes earlier skyrocketed from the thunder, lightning, and wind combination. I honestly had forgotten how powerful thunderstorms in this part of the country were. I’d gotten used to thunderstorms back in New York. They weren’t necessarily rare by any stretch, but they weren’t as sudden or as intense as the storms in central Texas.
Despite the growing storm outside and my internal worries, I pulled out a butter knife from the kitchen drawer along with a small plate. I took out the peanut butter and jelly to prepare a sandwich. I was too rattled to try to fix anything beyond a classic PB&J.
“Shit,” I yelped and jumped halfway out of my skin when a clap of thunder cracked through the air. The wind had kicked up, too, and I could hear the rustle of the trees that surrounded the property blowing in the wind. That was when a sudden, awful memory came to mind. The butter knife fell from my hand onto the counter. I had to hold onto the counter edge to keep myself from toppling over as my legs grew weak.
Somehow, I made it out of the kitchen and stumbled into my grandfather’s recliner. I curled up into a ball and covered my ears to try to keep the sound of the thunder and the heavy rain that pounded the rooftop at bay. It was a useless act, but I tried anyway.
I grabbed the frayed rope that I always fiddled with when nervous from the coffee table. The same one Micah gave me all those years ago.
Next, I started to recall my workout instructor’s reminder of the importance of breathing when feeling anxious or scared. I began drawing in long breaths and worked to make the exhales as long as my inhales. I can’t say the focus on breathing helped, because soon into it, I was again startled by a loud noise.
This time, however, it was a knock on the door.
“Jodi?”
I leapt up from the recliner at the sound of his voice. Before Micah could call my name a second time, I was unlocking and pulling the door open. I let out the breath, I’d been holding when I saw him standing there, wet from the rain in a dark hoodie.
A clawing sound forced me to look down at Micah’s side. The smile I didn’t even realize was plastered on my face, increased at seeing Hound dutifully sitting on his hind legs beside his owner.
“We thought we’d drop by.”
I lifted an eyebrow as I looked back up at Micah.
Even the darkness of the storm still raging couldn’t hide the shimmer in his eyes.
“With dinner, of course.” He held up two paper bags.
The smell from whatever was inside wafted up to my nostrils, and I took a step back, making way for both Micah and Hound to enter. I took one final look outside before shivering and then closing the door.
Glancing down at my hand, I saw I still held onto the rope.
“I can’t believe you drove out here in this weather.”
Micah chuckled as he pulled the hoodie off and placed it on the wooden coat hanger by the door. I watched intently, noting the dark hairs that trailed down the middle of his abdomen when the T-shirt he wore rose a little. I couldn’t see much of them, but I wondered if those hairs were the same color as the hair on his head or if they had a red tint to them like his facial hair. He toed off his shoes to not drip water and dirt farther into the house.
“This is nothing,” he calmly retorted.
“Oh,” I blurted when, out of nowhere, I found myself wrapped in his arms as he pulled me into his body.
He was so damn warm. Like a comforting blanket that I’d somehow lost a long time ago and was now finding my way back to.
I was tempted to lean my head against his chest, so grateful that he was there. His presence clouded out the fear and tension that danced on my nerves minutes earlier. I never got the opportunity to lay against his chest because Micah’s lips soon found mine.
This kiss was as comforting as his hold. I sighed into it, allowing my body to be flooded with a different, more tender emotion when I felt his tongue brush across my lips.
He pulled back all too soon. “Hi.”
“You know it’s rude to pop up on someone without notice,” I teased.
He snorted. “You’re the second person today to remind me of that.”
“Who was the first?”
