Page 55 of Love in the Lab
I sigh, looking beyond the walls of the open-air parking garage to the wind and rain beyond. “Can you drop me off at my apartment?” I ask. “I know it’s out of your way.”
Jonathan scoffs. “You misunderstand,” he says. “I mean where arewegoing now? I’m not leaving you alone for the storm.”
I startle. “No, I’ll be fine.”
Jonathan sets his jaw, his eyes holding mine in a level glare. “I’m not leaving you alone,” he repeats. “Either I come home with you, or you come home with me. Your choice.”
I drop my eyes. Though I’m plenty warm now with the towel draped over me and the heat pulsing out of the vents into the truck cab, I shiver. Dark ringlets of hair are plastered against Jonathan’s forehead. I watch a droplet of water form at the end of one curl, getting heavier until it drops free and rolls down his cheek and onto his neck. I swallow thickly before meeting his eyes again.
It’s clear there’s no point in arguing with Jonathan about this, and honestly, I don’t think I want to. Facing my first hurricane, even a low-category one, by myself is not appealing.
Finally, I say, “My cat is at my apartment.”
He frowns. “What flood zone are you in?”
“X.”
He nods. “Me too. In Metairie. Do you have a hurricane kit or emergency supplies?”
My face warms. “I do not.” See, these are the kinds of things I don’t think about.
In one decisive motion, Jonathan shifts the truck into reverse and starts backing out. “We’ll go to your apartment first and pick up your cat, and then we’ll hunker down at my place.”
I slump back against the seat, feeling one hundred pounds lighter.
“Sounds good,” I say. One less decision I have to make. One less plan I need to formulate. One less thing for my brain toconsider. I study the profile of Jonathan’s face, his jaw still set in determination. Yep. A decisive man is a sexy man.
Chapter twenty-two
Jonathan
The thirty-mile drive to Molly’s apartment takes double the normal time despite most of the traffic heading east away from New Orleans rather than west toward it like us. Our area is in the squall line now, which means we’re seeing strong gusts of wind and heavy rain off and on. I drive slowly and carefully on the slick roads, which are fortunately free from debris so far.
I finally pull up to the curb outside her building, and we run through the rain to the entry door. Molly types in her code, and we step inside.
What a day. What aweek. I don’t know what that kiss on the boat meant, but I also can’t dwell on it right now. I need to get Molly and her cat to my apartment and keep them safe. That’s the only thought I have room for in my brain at the moment.
As we walk up the stairs, I ask, “How did I not know you have a cat?”
Molly shrugs. “She doesn’t like strangers. She usually hides when someone she doesn’t know comes in.”
“What’s her name?”
“Beaker.”
I smile. “That’s cute.”
We get to her apartment door, and I wonder if it’s too soon to tease her by asking if she’s sure she has her key. Yeah, probably too soon. Instead, I instruct, “Just grab the cat and whatever you’ll need overnight: a change of clothes, toothbrush, whatever.”
She looks over her shoulder at me. “I don’t have time to change?”
I shake my head. “We need to be off the roads as soon as possible. You can shower and change when we get to my apartment.”
Molly looks like she’s about to say something else. Her mouth hangs open, and her forehead furrows with an unanswered question. But she closes her mouth and disappears into the back part of the apartment.
She comes out a few minutes later with an overnight bag, a litter box with its lid on, and a cat in her arms.
I chuckle. “You have a black cat.”
