“Oh, good, a towel,” she says, snapping me out of my reverie.
Right, towels. Though my throat is dry, the rest of me is not. I hand a towel to her, then start drying myself off.
She wraps her hair up in the towel and heads toward the stairs. “I’m going to change before I catch a cold.”
“Same.”
The lights flicker ominously as I swap out my wet clothes for dry ones and come back downstairs. It’s going to be a long night.
I light the fireplace and heat water for hot chocolate. Jenny joins me, now dressed in soft loungewear. “Hot chocolate sounds amazing,” she says, taking a mug and sitting at the island.
“Want to sit by the fireplace?” I ask. “I don’t trust that we will have power all night.” The words barely leave my lips before the power cuts out. “Well, that was perfect timing,” I say flatly.
Jenny laughs, and I just stare at her, my hands on my hips. “You think that’s funny, do you?”
Nodding, she breathes out, “Yes, yes I do.”
We sit by the fireplace with our hot chocolates and blankets. The storm rages outside, but the heat from the fire keeps us warm. We talk for hours about everything and nothing. Conversation comes easily, which feels right. My feelings for Jenny only continue to grow deeper.
“I’m going to head to bed,” Jenny says. “It doesn’t seem like the storm is going to be ending anytime soon.” She stretches and gives a soft yawn.
“I think you’re right about that,” I agree, folding my blanket and laying it over the back of my chair.
“Sleep well, Jenny,” I say.
As she stands, I catch the faint scent of her shampoo. “You too, hubby,” she says. Then she stands on her toes and presses a kiss to my cheek.
My heart skips a beat as she walks away, leaving me with the storm and the lingering warmth of her touch.
Chapter 24
Jenny
Up in my room, the storm feels alive—louder and more intense than I anticipated. The sharp howling of the wind and the relentless drumbeat of rain against the windows create a symphony of chaos. I stand at the window for a moment, watching the skies, which have turned a deep, menacing blue, almost black.
The trees outside sway wildly, their branches flailing like desperate arms in the storm, making me question if it was the right decision to choose this room. Their swaying feels almost predatory, ominous in the flickering light from the storm.
I close my blinds, trying to shut out the storm’s angry flashes, but a particularly bright bolt of lightning sears through the slats, illuminating the room in a harsh white light. A deafening crash of thunder follows, shaking even the foundation of the house.
Crawling into bed, I pull the blanket up to my chin and stare at the ceiling. My heart pounds as I picture the lake’s churning waters, waves smashing against the marina’s docks. I can only hope the boats will weather the storm unscathed.
The house groans and creaks as if it too is fighting against the tempest. The sound of the wind slipping through the tiniest cracks creates a haunting whistle that seems to come from every direction. I toss and turn for what feels like hours before exhaustion eventually wins out. I drift off into a restless, dreamless sleep.
A sudden, earsplitting bang jolts me awake, and I sit up with a scream. The sound of shattering glass fills the room, sharp and jarring. The wind shrieks through what must be my now broken window. Icy rain slices into the room, pelting my arms and face.
Above the chaos, I hear Trent calling my name. It’s faint, but it’s enough to spark a flicker of hope. I quickly throw back the covers, ready to go to him, only to be showered with the shards of glass and sticks that covered the blanket.
“Trent!” I scream. Then something heavy crashes into me, sending a sharp pain through my head.
The world tilts and fades. I can barely make out Trent’s voice above the storm’s ferocious roar as darkness swallows me whole.
Chapter 25
Trent
"Jenny!" I yell.
The sound of the storm is overwhelming, pressing in from all sides like a living force. Sirens wail, fragmented and distant. My chest tightens, adrenaline flooding my veins as I struggle to process what’s happening. A tornado. The realization slams into me, and with it, a wave of panic.