Page 109 of Small Town, Big Storm

The silhouettes of the pine trees outside the window grow blurry.

And…

The next thing I know is I’m being lifted from the car, cradled against a strong chest.“I can walk,” I say sleepily, fighting against Storm’s hold.

Well,fightingis a strong word for the slight struggle I put up.

Mostly because it’s not for one second that I don’t know it’s Storm holding me with gentle hands and his spicy scent all around me, his soft, “I’ve got you,” in my ears.

I close my eyes, bury my face in his chest.

And I let him carry me into Sully’s.

It’s not until we’re walking down the hall, the din of the bar in the distance, that it hits.“Stop!”I order.

He halts immediately, arms tightening around me.“What’s wrong?Do you feel sick?”

“You don’t want to carry me in there,” I say.“We’re already the talk of the town.I can walk?—”

“Look at me, Pop,” he says, but I’m struggling in earnest now, trying to wriggle out of his hold.He just hugs me closer.“Baby.”

I freeze, and if I thought I hated commands then I’ve never received one likethis.

All hot and rough and…

What would it be like to hear a command like that when we were both naked?

Heat blooms in my belly, spreads between my legs.

It would be glorious.

Iknowit.

“Pop,” he murmurs, “I meant what I said.”

My still sort of sleepy brain can’t quite process that.He meant what he said about Holly?Or he meant what he said about what he feels for me?Or maybe he meant what he said about staying in Cedar Hollow?

I hope that it’s all three.

I hope that it’s all the ones I’mnotthinking of.

A soft laugh as he busses a kiss over my forehead.

“God, you’re adorable.”He straightens, keeps walking.“I meant that I hope we make the front page, Pop.”A wink.“Because we aredefinitelygoing to give the townspeople of Cedar Hollow something to talk about.”

Twenty-Nine

Storm

“How is she?”Clover whispers as I carry a sacked-out Holly upstairs and into the apartment.

“Okay,” I tell her.“She wouldn’t take the pain medication the doctor prescribed, but I got some ibuprofen in her before she passed out.”

“Good,” Clover murmurs, shifting in front of me to hold the door open.“Poppy doesn’t get enough rest as it is.”

I nod in agreement as I walk quietly across the apartment, carefully settle Holly into her bed and tug up the covers.

“She needs her Gerald,” Clover says, coming over and rooting around inside a basket of stuffed toys.“Ah, here he is,” she adds, pulling her hand out and revealing?—