He shook his head. “No one important. I brought dinner. To make up for my rudeness.”
“Somehow, I think you knew the one thing I couldn’t turn down was food.” I started to laugh, but then another round of thunder cracked through the air, and I found myself jumping in Micah’s arms.
The man had fantastic balance and instincts because not only was he able to hold on to me, he did so without dropping either bag from his hands.
“You all right?”
I swallowed and glanced down, nodding. “Fine. What’d you bring?” I asked, finally pushing out of his hold.
The frown on his face implied that he knew I wasn’t being honest, but he answered anyway.
“The other night, you said Italian was one of your favorites. There’s a new place in town that I thought we’d give a try.”
I was touched that he remembered such a small detail of what we discussed at dinner. I’d had men I was in long-term relationships with fail to remember basic things that I mentioned.
I shook my head and reminded myself that I was not in a relationship with Micah Townsend. He was helping me figure out what happened to my grandfather. Sure, we’d flirted and kissed here and there, but that was it.
“I’ll grab some plates,” I said, and turned to head for the kitchen. I laughed when I found Hound entering beside me. “Hey, boy. Have you eaten?” I questioned, petting his head.
He whimpered.
“Don’t let him fool you. That damn dog eats better than I do,” Micah stated as he moved to the entrance of the kitchen, leaning against it with his arms folded.
I had to remind myself that it wasn’t polite to stare, but it was useless. I ended up ogling every feature of his body. I took in everything from the thick biceps that bulged, to his face that was too perfect to be described as handsome. After taking my fill of him, I grabbed a couple of plates, forks, and bottles of water for us to eat.
Again, thunder outside sounded, and the rain and wind grew heavier. I paused in the middle of the living room, my head lifting toward the ceiling as if I could see through it, or I could will the roof to remain in place against the storm.
“I’ll take—” Micah was cut off by another booming round of thunder, followed by the sudden blinking off of the lights in the house.
I gasped, looking around.
“Power went out. Do you know where the circuit breaker is?”
I had to think a moment to get my bearings back underneath me. “In the utility closet, in the hallway.”
“I’ll go see if I can get it turned back on.”
I watched the outline of his figure as he retreated down the hall, feeling bereft at his absence even though he was merely feet away. The sound at my side reminded me that Hound was there, almost as if he sensed my fear and was there to comfort me. I placed the plates and water down onto the coffee table and pet Hound as he rubbed his head against the top of my thigh.
“That didn’t work. The storm probably knocked out a power line somewhere near here,” Micah said as he came back up the hall. “Do you have any candles?”
“My grandfather always kept some around the house.” Feeling grateful to be useful somehow, I headed into the kitchen, holding my hands out to brace the walls, so I didn’t bump into anything. I smiled and looked up and over my shoulder as Micah held his cell phone, using the flashlight to illuminate the drawer I pulled open.
“Here they are.” After grabbing the candles and the box of matches beside them, I headed back into the living room.
I lit the candles while Micah pushed the coffee table back toward the couch and grabbed the throw blanket to spread out on the floor. He set up our plates and placed the bags of food in between them, before holding his hand out to me.
“Now it’s a picnic.”
Smiling, I placed one of the candles at the center of the blanket, and the other two on the table.
“Thank you for bringing dinner,” I said as he opened the container of salad, breadsticks, sausage, and lasagna. Everything looked good and smelled even better.
“You don’t have to thank me for doing what my instincts told me to do.”
I stopped my first forkful of salad halfway to my face. “Your instincts?”
He nodded and looked directly into my eyes. It always unnerved me when he did that. As if he wanted me to commit every word, every look to memory, the way he was.
