Page 57 of Finding Storm

She counted my abs? Multiple times.

Nice.

I have to stop myself from flexing them.

“Our neighbor, ninety-year-old Mrs. Hindley, sees your abs, and she’ll have a stroke. And you don’t want to be responsible for the death of a sweet old lady, do you?”

Well, I’m already responsible for the death of my father. So, what’s one more?

I realize I’ve gone quiet.

I force myself to speak, “Yeah, no. Sure. I’ll borrow a shirt, if that’s okay.”

She’s watching me. I can feel her stare. But I don’t look. I don’t want her to see the shit going on in my head that I know will show in my eyes.

“Of course. I’ll grab one when we get to the B&B. It’s not far. Just a five-minute walk.”

We walk side by side in relative silence. Aside from the shit going on inside my head, it’s actually a nice walk.

We pass a couple of people. One walking a dog, which Stevie stops to pet, and a jogger. They both greet Stevie by name.

She’s clearly liked by people in this town.

And who wouldn’t like her? She’s awesome.

I get a couple of looks from people, but I think it’s more because I’m a stranger. Well, that or because I’m currently shirtless, wearing only a leather jacket.

I have the urge to smoke. My fingers twitch around the pack in my pocket. But I don’t want to piss her off.

Although pissing her off does sound quite entertaining.

“You mind if I smoke?” I ask.

“I don’t mind. But the months of life you’ll take off my lungs will. And the fish that your cigarette butt will kill does too. He minds a lot. But by all means, smoke.”

I grin.

Is it weird that I get off on her chiding me?

I have issues. I know.

“How do you know it’d be a he?”

“Who?”

“The fish. It could be a she,” I tease.

“Even worse then because she might be pregnant with fish babies, and you’d murder all those innocent babies too. How do you sleep at night?”

I glance down at her, and the mirth in her eyes is everything I need to see right now.

Well, apart from her naked body writhing beneath mine, that is.

“Usually naked,” I tell her, wanting to shock and humor her.

And I do both.

Laughter bursts from her, but her chest goes red. Not that I’ve spent time staring at her chest. Who am I kidding? Of course I have. She has great tits. And while I was staring at her tits, I noticed her chest goes red when she’s embarrassed.