“As she should. How’re the bar chords coming?”
“Good, all good.”
“And when will I get an invite to puzzle time?”
Charles flushes as we cross the bridge back to the island. “Soon.”
I’ll take that answer for what it is without arguing. I lower the window as we make our way onto the island, hoping to catch some of the marsh-scented wind. It washes through the cab with unrelenting urgency. The reeds sway in the breeze out in the marsh, the sun bouncing off the water. I lean my arm against the window’s edge and rest my chin on my arm, just taking in the sights and smells of home.
Home.
It’s funny how home has become this island, these people, and maybe Charles is working his way into the definition of home as well.
When he pulls up in front of my house, I want to ask him to come inside, but I don’t. I feel like we’ve reached our time limit for the day. I pause to reach over and rest my hand over his where it rests on the gear shift. He doesn’t blush or pull away, he just lifts his thumb out from under my grip to run over my own. The moment feels more charged than any kiss ever could. These gentle moments with Charles are buildingtoward something, and I don’t know when either of us is going to cross that threshold, but I’ll be there to meet him when we do.
I want and I want and I want, but I think someday it’ll turn into need.
I hop out of the truck with a wave and smile, watching Charles back out and away with a thudding heart that wishes we were still in the truck with him, heading toward his house that smells like summer rain and Saint Bernard.
CHAPTER TEN
CHARLES
Idon’t pay much attention to the news. Not to be that guy, but it stresses me out so much. Most of my news comes via word of mouth rather than the internet these days. But on Monday at physical therapy, it’s hard to avoid everyone talking about the approaching hurricane. I’m in the middle of strengthening exercises to help with knee rotation and stability when my therapist winces.
“Did I do the movement wrong?” I ask Eric, looking down at my knee and expecting to feel pain. But all is well, as has been the case lately.
Eric shakes his head, clearly distracted. “Nah, dude. Sorry. I just saw the hurricane upgrade on the television.”
I glance behind me at the television hanging in the busy workout room. Sure enough, the news has upgraded it to a four, when it was supposed to be a mild two when it rounded the coast. I guess I’ll need to get some things ready this evening. I leave physical therapy with a lack of pep in my step, my knee always aching a little extra after putting it through the wringer. Between the beach runs and physical therapy, myknee is saying take it easy, but I’ve never known how to take anything easy in my life. You can take the boy off the farm, but not the farm out of the boy it appears. Made me a great football player but a lousy patient, or so most of my doctors have told me over the years.
I immediately let Cupcake out into the backyard when I get home. Arms crossed over my chest, I stare out into the cloud-free horizon. It’s always amazed me how it can be the most beautiful day ever one day, then absolutely devastating the next.
I keep the news on as I get ready to cook an early dinner. I don’t know much about hurricanes, but I know keeping a stocked fridge is kind of stupid if the power might go out. So, I’ll need to use up some of the meat in my freezer just in case to avoid spoiling.
A knock at the door interrupts me just as I’m about to get going, and I have no idea who it could be. But I can’t hold back the grin that splits my face when I open the door to find Tucker, all pink-hair glory of him. My smile instantly fades when I notice the severe look on his face. He looksangry, and I don’t particularly like that look aimed at me.
“You aren’t answering your phone.”
“Oh. I have Do Not Disturb on. Did something happen?”
Tucker blinks slowly. “Your house isn’t prepped for the hurricane that’s hittingtomorrow.”
“Prepped?”
Tucker tiredly buries his head in his hands, makes a frustrated noise, then wordlessly pushes past me into the house. The sky is turning pink and purple from sunset, the water glistening out beyond the dunes. Tucker’s hair kind of matches the sunset, pink and happy. I miss his blond curls, but the pink is really starting to grow on me. It makes his brightblue eyes even brighter, makes the flush on his cheeks somehow even more maroon.
“You’ve got to bring all your outdoor furniture in, close the shutters.”
“Oh.”
“You’ve never been through a hurricane?”
“No,” I answer honestly, making my way through the living room to stand beside him. Hands on my hips, I turn to look at him, but he’s steadfastly avoiding my gaze, a muscle in his jaw ticcing. “Don’t they evacuate if it’s bad enough?”
“Eh, the eye isn’t coming for us, just the bands. There’s a voluntary evacuation order. My parents are leaving.”
“What about you?”
