Page 125 of Archer

“He says the roads between here and Island Adventures are flooded, and they’re not moving until it clears. Now Colton’s messaging.”

He swiped the screen with his thumb. “Colton says all of Webb’s accounts are still dark. He’ll call if anything changes. He’s able to keep an eye on the cameras here and at the cottage from where they are.”

Archer set down the phone. He eased upright and pulled his shirt on. He grabbed his boxer briefs on the way to the window, then pulled back the curtain.

The sky was dark, the glass streaked with rain, and the palm trees in the yard bent low with each increasing gust of wind.

“It’s like Webb just vanished,” I said.

“Yeah.”

I curled my knees to my chest and watched him at the window. “It’s the longest he’s left me alone since I got to Carolina Bay.”

Archer grunted, his eyes on the sea.

“Hey.”

He turned.

“Come back to bed.” I held his gaze. “We have the house to ourselves a little while longer, and I want you to show me all the ways no one else can touch me.”

He was naked again before he reached the bed.

Chapter 42

Harper

Hours later, the rain hadn’t stopped and the team hadn’t returned.

I sat on the couch in Knox’s living room, my knees pulled up and a bowl of soup steaming in my hands, while the storm worked itself into a full rage outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was warm and low-lit with a reading lamp. Under-cabinet lighting in the kitchen added to the glow.

The space was as welcoming and homey as Grandma’s cottage, despite the fact it was easily three times the size. Throw blankets draped the backs of chairs, stacks of paperback novels filled bookshelves, and driftwood sculptures crowded every flat surface, between family photos and seashells. It was a perfect place to be stranded.

But worry for our friends kept us from enjoying the passing moments.

The nor’easter initially slated to reach landfall tonight had arrived hours early and with far more gusto than meteorologists had predicted.

Now, the Atlantic— less than fifty yards from the window— was nearly invisible behind the rain. The deck boards outside the glass were dark and slick. Continuous winds flattened the dune grasses to the ground.

Every few minutes a gust hit the house broadside, and the windows shuddered in their frames. Palm trees bent so severely I wasn’t sure they’d survive.

Archer shifted beside me. “You haven’t touched the soup.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m trying.”

“It’s the storm, right?” He brushed hair off my shoulder and the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “It’s worse than everyone thought.”

I spooned some chowder into my mouth and nodded.

The soup was good, buttery and rich. Hot and grounding. I took another bite while rain streaked over the glass in diagonal sheets.

Archer set his bowl on the table and picked up his phone.

“I’m going to call Knox,” he said. “Make sure they’ve got good cover to ride this out.”

I swiveled on the cushion, eager to know the same.

He put the call on speaker and set the phone between us.