Page 19 of Haunted By the Storm
It's not a question. He's observed enough to know.
"No," I admit. "I don't."
Lightning flashes again, and I can't help the small gasp that escapes me. Storm moves closer, his wet t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame.
"Ironic, huh?" I say, trying for humor to mask my fear. "I’m stuck in a storm with a man called Storm while being terrified of storms."
"I don't think you're terrified of me," he says quietly.
He's right. Despite his intimidating appearance and the violence I sense simmering beneath his controlled exterior, I'm not afraid of Storm. Wary, yes. Unsettled by his intensity, definitely. But not afraid. Not the way I am of actual storms.
"Storm!" Emily calls from the couch. "Come watch the movie with us! Mom's scared of the thunder, but I told her we're safe here."
I close my eyes briefly, embarrassed by my daughter's innocent revelation.
"Is that right?" Storm says, his voice carefully neutral. "Well, I think your mom's very brave for watching a movie during a storm anyway."
He moves past me toward the couch, settling on Emily's other side. "What are we watching?" he asks, as if it's perfectly normal for him to be joining us for family movie night.
"It's about dragons," Emily explains eagerly. "This one is the mama dragon, and she's teaching her babies how to fly, but they're scared because there's a storm coming, just like outside!"
Storm's eyes meet mine over Emily's head, something unreadable in their blue depths. "Sometimes the things we're most afraid of are the things that help us grow stronger," he says, though I'm not sure if he's talking to Emily or to me.
As the storm rages outside and dragons soar across the TV screen, I find myself relaxing incrementally, anchored by Emily's warmth on one side and Storm's solid presence on the other. When thunder crashes particularly loudly, making me jump despite my efforts not to, Storm's hand finds mine under the blanket, giving it a gentle squeeze.
The gesture is so unexpected, so strangely comforting, that I don't pull away. Instead, I let my fingers twine with his, drawing strength from his unwavering calm as the storm howls around us.
And for the first time in eight years, I make it through a thunderstorm without falling apart.
CHAPTER SIX
storm
Her hand feels small in mine.
It's not something I should be noticing, but I am. Just like I’m noticing how her fingers fit perfectly between mine. How her skin is soft despite the calluses on her palm that tell me she's no stranger to hard work. How she trembles slightly with each crack of thunder but tries like hell not to let it show.
The kid's fallen asleep beside us, her head resting against Camryn's side, the "thunder blanket" pulled up to her chin. The movie ended twenty minutes ago, but neither of us has moved to turn off the TV. Its blue glow is the only light in the room, besides the occasional flash of lightning through the windows.
We haven't spoken since I took her hand. I'm not sure what to say. I'm not a man who comforts scared women. I'm a man who makes others fear me. But something about Camryn Fletcher makes me want to be more than what I am.
"She's out," I finally say, nodding toward Emily.
Camryn glances down at her daughter, a small smile softening her features. "She can sleep through anything. Even storms."
The irony isn't lost on me. "Unlike her mother."
The smile fades, and she pulls her hand from mine, immediately making me regret my words. She starts to rise, careful not to disturb Emily.
"I should put her to bed," she says, not meeting my eyes.
I stand and gently lift Emily before Camryn can protest. The kid barely stirs as I carry her to the smaller bedroom and lay her on the twin bed with more care than I knew I possessed. Camryn follows, tucking the covers around her sleeping daughter and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Thank you," she whispers as we step back into the hallway.
I nod, uncomfortable with her gratitude. "It's nothing."
The storm is beginning to fade; the thunder more distant now, the rain a gentler patter against the windows. But I can still see the tension in Camryn's shoulders; in the way she flinches slightly at each rumble.
