Fin had been a ridiculously responsible pet owner and packed food for all her charges in a pocket of the cat carrier, but since Juno had gone through her two allotted cans of cat food, she was now licking tuna from my pantry off her paws.

My hands ached from setting my garage to rights, which had consumed my morning, but I still managed to hold my book.

I checked my cell phone for the hundredth time in the last hour, but there was still no service. Logically, I knew Fin and Vivian were fine—they’d probably been airlifted straight to the hospital—but I wanted a little reassurance, and I would have killed to hear Jackson’s voice. Hopefully, he knew they were safe. I had a billion things I wanted to tell him, none of which included the state of his house.

Rotors beat the air, but I didn’t jump off the couch. The coast guard had been up and down the island, evacuating emergency medical cases, so the sound had become more than commonplace.

The police officer who stopped by this morning told me they were hoping to have cell service up by tomorrow, and they were evacuating people by ferry based on levels of need. With Finley and Vivian safe, I figured my need wasn’t as pressing as the others around me, and I definitely wasn’t about to ask to evac Fin’s zoo.

The steady thump of rotor blades didn’t retreat.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I jumped, looking up from my book to see a coastie at my sliding glass door. Guess Hastings had come back. I climbed off the couch and tried not to trip over Juno as I made my way to the door. Then I flipped the lock and slid the glass open to look up at my own reflection in a visor.

“Hi! Can I help you?” I shouted over the noise of the hovering helicopter.

He said something into his helmet, and the bird flew away.

He’d unhooked his tether. What the hell?

The guy unsnapped his helmet, yanked it off, and tucked it under his—

“Jackson!” This had to be a dream, right? But the air still smelled like post-hurricane funk, and surely, I wouldn’t imagine that.

I threw myself at him.

He caught me, tugging me close as the air fell quiet around us. Thank you, God. We stumbled backward, and he set his helmet on the table, then wrapped both his arms around me and held tight.

It was the first time I’d felt safe since he’d deployed.

“Tell me you’re okay,” he said against my temple.

I lifted my head and smiled. “I love you.”

His eyes flared wide.