“There are a lot of reasons why we shouldn’t be doing this.” She picks up my phone and hands it to me. “Please check the weather again. I think we’re in real danger of missing the tornado warning.”

“Rosey, we’re in real danger of missing this tornado if it passes right through this fucking cabin.”

She laughs and snuggles in closer. I bring up the weather on my phone.

“It’s a lot of rain,” I say. “Even without the threat of tornadoes, it could be a problem.”

“You think it will affect opening?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

She sweeps her hand over my chest. “It will be okay.”

I close my eyes. I hope she’s right. All I know is that with Rosey lying next to me, everything feels like it’s going to be okay.

SEVENTEEN

Rosey

It’s possible the storm has just given Byron and me a time-out from reality. I’m no longer the runaway bride and he’s not my boss. He’s just a hot guy and I’m just a girl who’s hot for him. Maybe we’re both just trying to get through the night.

Part of me thinks that’s what this is—just a night suspended in time. Then the other part of me, deep down inside, whispers this guy is different. This man makes you different.

I never asked Frank for what I wanted—in bed or out. It didn’t occur to me that I could. And he never asked what I wanted. It didn’t seem to matter to him. But with Byron… with Byron, it feels completely natural to tell him everything. What I want. What I don’t want. Who I am. Maybe it’s because no one’s depending on my relationship with Byron. With Frank, my entire family was behind me, pushing me forward, willing me to do everything right so Frank would want me. So Frank would become part of our family and, therefore, responsible for us all.

Here in Star Falls, the only ones who care what I do with Byron are me and Byron. And I’ve never wanted anyone more.

I scoop up two mugs of hot chocolate and pad back into the bedroom.

“That shirt looks sexy on you,” he says. I’m wearing his navy plaid shirt and his socks.

I pause and cock my head to the side. “How sexy?”

His eyes grow hooded, instantly renewing the wetness between my legs. Byron makes sure I’m more than satisfied, but I can’t help wanting more of him. Part of me wonders how long we have left before either we have to make a quick exit to the shelter, or worse, the storm passes and life goes back to normal.

I slide the mugs onto the bedside table and undo the buttons on his shirt, letting it fall open a couple of inches.