The man was sex on a stick. And he was staring at her as she went loopy picturing him in nothing but the tool belt.
“You okay?” he asked. “You look like you’re going to pass out or something.”
“I’m fine,” she lied. “So I’ll see you over there?”
“Right behind you, boss.”
Sid drove away from Dempsey’s grinning like an idiot, but she didn’t care. Curly was right. Being nice worked. Not that she’d ever tell Curly that.
By six o’clock that evening, Lucas was tired, soaked, sore, and starving. They’d boarded up his parents’ house, Joe’s place, and then helped with the fitness center, which had the window wall from hell. The plywood sheets required four guys just to hold them and even then the damn things nearly broke their wrists when the wind caught them.
“I may never be able to lift my arms again.” On his back on a weight bench, Lucas turned his head to the left. “What are the chances you’d lift my beer so I can get a drink?”
Sid snorted. “No chance at all.”
And she’d been so nice all afternoon. He should have known it couldn’t last. “You’re not going to carry me home on this bench either, are you? I’ll have to sleep here then. It’s not like anyone will be going out in a hurricane to bench-press dumbbells.”
“There’s no kitchen here and once the power goes out you’ll be screwed. Go home, Dempsey.” Sid rolled off the balance ball she’d been using as a chair and tossed her empty beer bottle in the trash. “I’ve got to go put the boards up at my place.”
“What?” he said, sitting up faster than his body liked. A pain shot through his ribs. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
Sid shrugged. “We were busy doing all these other places.”
Lucas pushed off the bench, taking two tries to reach his feet. “I’m coming with you.”
“Are you kidding?” Sid poked him with one finger and he swayed. “You’re spent, dude. I can handle it.”
“There’s no way I’m letting you do that alone. Not when you’re right on the water and by now the winds have to be pushing sixty out there.” Damn stubborn woman. “Let’s go before we lose what light is left.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with me,” he yelled over his shoulder, pulling his keys from his pocket as he stomped to the door. What was wrong with her? Did she have no sense of self-preservation? She’d spent all day helping everyone else, and never asked for a hand in return. Well, she was getting one.
The waves crashed against the pier as Lucas pulled into Sid’s driveway. At least there were no trees around to crash through her roof. He waited for her to pull in on his left before hopping out and ducking under the opening garage door. Sid must have pushed the button as she pulled in.
The garage was cave-like and dark, so Lucas stayed near the entrance until the door was open far enough to illuminate his surroundings. Through the dusty beams from Sid’s headlights, he saw wall-to-wall workbenches, each covered in more tools and junk than the one before. A cacophony of metal chaos.
The lights went out and Sid ran through the door with her head down, stopping just before crashing into his stomach like a missile. “Son of a bitch,” she said, shaking off water like a wet Lab coming out of the surf. “This is going to suck.”
“Then let’s get moving.” At least it wasn’t pouring as hard as it would be later. “Where do you keep the boards?”
“In the shed out back,” she yelled, the wind making it difficult to hear. “I’ll let the drill charge while we pull them out.”
His first thought was where in the world would she charge anything in that mess, but Sid walked straight to a workbench, slammed the drill onto a base, then turned his way. “Let’s go.”
He followed her back out into the storm, giant drops pinging off his face like they’d been shot from a BB gun. Joe had shot him with a BB once, so he knew exactly how it felt. As Sid worked the key into the lock of the shed, he tried to buffer her from the wind. Her hood blew down and dark hair whipped around her face.
When the shed door slid open, Sid pointed toward four boards along the right wall standing behind a riding mower. Verbal communication would have to wait until they were out of the elements. Together they removed the boards, laying each piece flat on the ground under whatever window of the house it was meant to cover. Information Sid had long ago spray-painted on each piece. A quick trip back for the drill and hardware, then they went to work.
The two windows in the back were the most difficult, as that side faced the water and was getting the wind full on. The two in front went on with little trouble, then Sid and Lucas were once again standing in the garage, both creating a puddle on the concrete floor.
As Sid pulled the wet hoodie over her head, the blue Evinrude T-shirt underneath rode up high enough for him to catch a glimpse of a delicate white bra with purple and green stars. Never in a million years …
“You can hang your jacket over there,” she yelled, flopping her sweatshirt on top of a bench and reaching for a switch on the wall. She flipped it, but nothing happened. “Shit. Power’s out already.”
“What now?” he asked, knowing he should drive home while he still had the chance, but reluctant to leave until certain Sid would be okay.
“Generator.”
“Where?”
“In the corner, but the gas cans are in the freaking shed.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Not the answer he wanted to hear. “I’ll get them,” he said. “Go dry off.”
“You can’t carry all four cans. And there’s no way we’ll get back out there once Ingrid gets closer.” Sid headed for the open garage door. “We’ll go together.” She stopped just inside, glanced up at the darkening sky, then back his way. “You don’t melt, do you?” Her words were accompanied by a full-fledged smile. The one that put him on his proverbial ass every time she flashed it.
He joined her at the door. “You ready?” She nodded, then, eyes locked, they each took a deep breath. “Run!” he yelled, diving into the storm.
A blanket of water covered them instantly, icy drops rolling down his back and filling his shoes. That drive home was going to be damned uncomfortable. Sid kept pace, slipping on some wet grass, but Lucas reached out and kept her upright. They reached the shed side by side, Lucas pulling the door open and shoving Sid inside.
With mere inches of open floor space, they stood for a long moment, pressed together and breathing hard. Sid looked up, her head tilted back due to their vast difference in height. He had her by at least a foot. Somehow he always forgot that until moments like this one.
One drop slid down Sid’s nose, landing on her full upper lip, where she licked it off. His body responded as if he’d been hit head on by a train. Leaning forward, he regained control inches from her mouth.
“Where are they?” he growled, tension and heat rolling through his body despite the cold material clinging to his skin. He half expected steam to fill the air around them.
Sid shoved wet strands of black hair off her forehead and glanced around. Stepping onto the riding mower she said, “Over here.”
The packed shed prevented Lucas from moving beyond where he stood. “Hand them over.”
Two red, five-gallon cans appeared over the mower as if they weighed five ounces instead of thirty pounds each. He dropped them at his feet, then reached back for the next ones. By the time the last two hit the floor, Sid had scaled the John Deere and was once again pressed against his side.
The sound of the rain driving against the shed roof made it impossible to hear, so he motioned toward the door and she nodded in response. Lifting two cans, Sid ran out first, with Lucas close behind. They didn’t make it ten feet before tiny balls of ice filled the air, pelting them like golf balls on a driving range.
He heard a scream seconds before the cans hit the ground and Sid’s ass followed suit. The back porch was
