I don’t know where the hell the oil drum has come from. I give it a push. It’s heavy—definitely not empty. I slide on my gloves and give it another push. It refuses to roll. I circle the drum, trying to see what’s stopping it. There are a couple of dents in it, but nothing that should stop it rolling. I push it again and it moves a few inches, then stops. It must just be the way whatever’s inside is moving inside the barrel. It’s resistant. Eventually, I get a rhythm going, one hand pushing after another. It creates momentum and I manage to push it off the side of the road.

I jog back to the truck, take off my gloves and slide into the driver’s seat. I catch Rosey’s eye as I slam my door shut.

I narrow my eyes, and she blushes. “What?” I ask her.

She shrugs. “You’re hot. That’s all.”

I chuckle. “You like watching me doing manual labor, do you?”

“Sue me,” she says, lifting her chin defiantly.

“There are plenty of other things I’d prefer to do to you,” I say, because I can’t not. I put the truck into drive.

“Maybe later,” she says and keeps her eyes on the road.

My heart inches in my chest at her words. I’m half tempted to pull over again and bend her over the hood of this truck. I shake my head and try to get my head back where it needs to be. I can’t think about any of that right now. I just want to get to the Club and work out the damage.

We pull into the drive of the Club and everything looks fine. It’s a good start, but no more than I would have expected. This area around the main building was fully finished.

As we get out of the cab, Hart comes out, followed by Kathleen.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” Hart says, his gaze flitting between me and Rosey.

“Phone lines are still down,” I say. “How are things here? Everyone safe?” I watch Rosey as she disappears into the main building. I don’t get to say “see you later” or “thanks for the best night of my life.” I need to focus on the Club.

“Yeah, everyone was fine in the main building,” Hart says. “We barely heard the rain and wind. Head of construction is doing a full walk-through now, but we think the peripheral buildings have fared a lot better than expected. The chalets are all fine, except one where the shutters weren’t installed.”

I raise my eyebrows. I don’t need to ask why a shutter wasn’t finished. Kathleen can see my question in my expression.