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“I have a couple more things to check before we go. Sit tight. I’ll be back before you can miss me.”
Doubt it.
Blake shut her door and disappeared around the building.
Savannah waited for her heartbeat to slow down. She secured her seat belt and surveyed the interior of Blake’s pickup truck. The satellite radio was set to an old-school hip-hop channel. The truck was tricked out with all the toys. High-end luxury meets Bo and Luke Duke with a refined hip-hop sensibility.
Perfectly Blake.
A clean citrus scent wafted from the air vents. The black leather seats she was dripping all over were inlaid with a tan design.
A fierce gust of wind blew the rain sideways and swayed the large truck. Her much smaller car rocked violently, as if it might blow over.
Another blinding flash of lightning was quickly followed by a rumble of thunder. Savannah gritted her teeth.
She’d give anything to be home in bed with the covers pulled over her head.
Everything will be fine. Don’t freak out.
Savannah squeezed her eyes shut. Counted backward from ten, then forward again. When she opened them, Blake was spreading a yellow tarp over her small car.
Damn you, Blake Abbott.
She’d arrived in Magnolia Lake regarding every last one of the Abbotts as a villain. Blake’s insistence on behaving like a knight in shining armor while looking like black Thor made it difficult to maintain that position.
He was being kind and considerate, doing what nearly any man would under the circumstances. Particularly one who regarded himself a Southern gentleman.
That didn’t make him Gandhi.
And it sure as hell didn’t prove the Abbotts weren’t capable of cruelty. Especially when it came to their business.
But as he approached the truck, looking tall, handsome and delicious despite the rain, it was impossible not to like him.
Relax. It’s just a ride home.
The storm had Savannah on edge. Nothing a little shoo-fly punch wouldn’t soothe. She just needed to endure the next twenty minutes with Blake Abbott.
* * *
Blake stood outside the truck with the wind whipping against his back and his soaking-wet clothing sticking to his skin. He forced a stream of air through his nostrils.
Parker’s warning replayed in his head.
Don’t think of her that way. It’ll only get you into trouble.
He’d come back to the plant after dinner with his father to make sure everything was okay. But he’d also come back looking for her, worried she’d spent another night working late, not recognizing the dangers of a hard, long rain like this. Something any local would know.
He would have done this for any of his employees—male or female. But he wasn’t a convincing enough liar to persuade himself that what he was doing tonight...for her...wasn’t different. More personal.
Something about Savannah Carlisle roused a fiercely protective instinct.
Keep your shit together and your hands to yourself.
Blake took one more cleansing breath and released it, hoping his inappropriate thoughts about Savannah went right along with it.
When he yanked the door open, Savannah’s widened eyes met his. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself.
“You’re freezing.” Blake climbed inside the truck and turned on the heat to warm her, wishing he could take her in his arms. Transferring his body heat to hers would be a better use of the steam building under his collar. “Is that better?”
Savannah rubbed her hands together and blew on them. “Yes, thank you.”
Blake grabbed a jacket off the back seat and handed it to her. “Put this on.”
There was the briefest hesitance in her eyes before Savannah accepted the jacket with a grateful nod. It was heavy, and she struggled to put it on.
Blake helped her into it. Somehow, even that basic gesture felt too intimate.
“Let’s get you home.” Blake put the truck into gear and turned onto the road that led across the river and into town.
They traveled in comfortable silence. It was just as well. The low visibility created by the blowing rain required his complete focus.
They were almost there. Savannah’s apartment was just beyond the bridge and around the bend.
Shit.
They were greeted by a roadblock and yellow warning signs. The water had risen to the level of the bridge.
“There’s another way into town, right?” Savannah asked nervously.
Blake didn’t acknowledge the alarm in her brown eyes. If he didn’t panic, maybe she wouldn’t, either, when he broke the bad news. “That bridge is the only route between here and your place.”
“I can’t get home?” Her voice was shaky and its pitch rose.
“Not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. The bridge is in danger of washing out. I could possibly make it across in my truck, but the weight of this thing could compromise the bridge and send us downriver.”
“So what do I do for the next couple of days? Camp out in my office until the bridge is safe again?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Blake groaned internally. Savannah wasn’t going to like the alternative. “My house is up the hill a little ways back.”
“You think I’m staying at your house? Overnight?” She narrowed her gaze at him. As if he’d orchestrated the rain, her staying late and the bridge threatening to wash out.
“You don’t really have another choice, Savannah.” He studied her as she weighed the options.
She pulled the jacket around her tightly as she assessed the road in front of them, then the road behind them. “Seems I don’t have much of a choice.”
A knot tightened in the pit of Blake’s stomach. He’d hoped that she would be stubborn enough to insist on returning to the office. That he wouldn’t be tortured by Savannah Carlisle being off-limits and sleeping under his roof.
“Okay then.” He shifted the truck into Reverse, turned around and headed back to the narrow road that led to the exclusive community where he and Zora owned homes.
As they ascended the hill, the handful of houses around the lake came into view. A bolt of lightning arced in the sky.
Savannah flinched once, then again at the deafening thunder. She was trying to play it cool, but her hands were clenched into fists. She probably had nail prints on her palms.
Why was she so frightened by the storm?
He wanted to know, but the question felt too personal. And everything about Savannah Carlisle indicated she didn’t do personal. She kept people at a safe distance.
She’d politely refused every social invitation extended to her since she’d joined the company. Some of his employees hadn’t taken her repeated rejections so well.
He’d tried not to do the same. After all, distance from her was exactly what he needed.
When they arrived at his house, he pulled inside the garage.
“You’re sure this won’t cause trouble? I mean, if anyone found out...” A fresh wave of panic bloomed across her beautiful face. “It wouldn’t look good for either of us.”
“No one else knows. Besides, any decent human being would do the same,” he assured her. “Would you prefer I’d left you in the parking lot on your own?”
“I’m grateful you didn’t.” Her warm gaze met his. “I just don’t want to cause trouble...for either of us.”
“It’s no trouble,” Blake lied. He hopped down from the cab of the truck, then opened her door.
She regarded his extended hand reluctantly. Finally, she placed her palm in his and allowed him to help her down.
Blake stilled for a moment, his brain refusing to function properly. Savannah was sopping wet. Her makeup was washed away by the rain, with the exception of the black mascara running down her face. Yet she looked no worse for the wear.
Her tawny skin was punctuated by a series of freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks.
Something about the discovery of that small detail she’d hidden from the world thrilled him.
His gaze dropped to her lips, and a single, inappropriate thought filled his brain.
Kiss her. Now.
She slipped her icy hand from his, slid the jacket from her shoulders and returned it to him.
“Thank you.” He tossed it into the back seat and shut the door.
When he turned to Savannah she was shivering again.
He rubbed his hands up and down her arms to warm her before his brain could remind him that was an inappropriate gesture, too.
Her searing gaze made the point clear.
“Sorry... I...” Blake stepped away, his face heated. He ran a hand through his wet hair.
“I appreciate the gesture. But what I’d really love is a hot shower and a place to sleep.”
“Of course.” Blake shrugged off his wet rain slicker. He hung it on a hook, then closed the garage door. “Hope you’re not afraid of dogs.”
“Not particularly.”
“Good.” Blake dropped his waterlogged shoes by the door to the house. When he opened it, his two dogs surrounded him, yapping until he petted each of their heads. They quickly turned their attention to Savannah.
“Savannah Carlisle, meet Sam—” He indicated the lean Italian greyhound who, while peering intently at Savannah, hadn’t left his side. “He’s a retired racing greyhound I rescued about five years ago.”
“Hello, Sam.”
“And that nosy fella there is Benny the labradoodle.” Blake indicated the rust-and-beige dog yapping at her feet, demanding her attention.
“Hi, Benny.” Savannah leaned down and let the dog sniff her hand, then petted his head. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Benny seemed satisfied with her greeting. He ran back inside with Sam on his heels.
“Did you rescue Benny, too?”
“No.” Blake swallowed past the knot that formed in his throat when he remembered the day he’d brought Benny home as a pup.
He’d bought Benny as a surprise for his ex. Only she’d had a surprise of her own. She was leaving him for someone else.
“Oh.” Savannah didn’t inquire any further, for which he was grateful.
Blake turned on the lights and gestured inside. “After you.”
Seven (#u2ef9d15f-5968-58a5-b903-af5c982d5c44)
Stop behaving like the poor girl who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. Even if you are.
Savannah’s wide eyes and slack mouth were a dead giveaway as Blake gave her an informal tour of his beautiful home.
She realized the Abbotts were wealthy. Still, she’d expected a log cabin with simple country decor. Maybe even a luxurious bachelor pad filled with gaming tables and the latest sound equipment.
She certainly hadn’t expected this gorgeous, timber-built home overlooking a picturesque lake and offering breathtaking mountain vistas. The wall of windows made the pastoral setting as much a feature of the home as the wide plank floors and shiplap walls.
Rustic charm with a modern twist.
It was the kind of place she could imagine herself living in. The kind of home she would be living in, if not for the greed and betrayal of Joseph Abbott.
Her shoulders tensed and her hands balled into fists at her sides.
“You must be tired.” Blake seemed to sense the shift in her demeanor. “I’ll show you to your room. We can finish the tour another time.”
Blake always seemed attuned to how she was feeling. A trait that would be endearing if they were a couple. Or even friends.
But they weren’t. It was a reality she couldn’t lose sight of, no matter how kind and generous Blake Abbott appeared on the surface.
She was here for one reason. But she’d learned little about Joseph Abbott and nothing of his history with her grandfather. If she opened up a little with Blake, perhaps he’d do the same, and reveal something useful about his family.
Maybe Blake didn’t know exactly what his grandfather had done. But he might still provide some small clue that could direct her to someone who did know and was willing to talk.
