LITMIR.BIZ

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have washed off in the deluge but at least she wouldn’t have been in it. As it was, she’d nearly driven off the side of the road twice, her wheels slipping and spinning in the slick mud.

      Her knuckles white, her windshield wipers going full blast, she followed as closely as she dared. She didn’t want to lose sight of his taillights, but she was also afraid of running right into the back of his truck.

      “Times like this make you want to be a waitress again,” she muttered, then screeched a little when she felt her tires sliding sideways again. Her heart in her throat and her father’s lectures spinning inside her head, she finally regained traction only to see Jayden’s truck had turned off the highway and those red taillights were getting fainter by the second.

      She couldn’t tell where the road was that he’d turned onto, but she followed him anyway, her chest knocking the steering wheel and her head hitting the headrest as she bounced down a small hill.

      “Next time just get in the dang truck,” she said loudly when water splashed up over the hood of her car, dousing her windshield with mud.

      The only saving grace was the force of the rain that washed away the mud and allowed her a moment to see the road—yes, it was a road—in front of her and Jayden’s taillights still ahead.

      She exhaled loudly, focusing on them like a lifeline as they drove onward. It felt like they’d been driving for miles when the rain suddenly eased up, and she spotted buildings nearby that soon became distinct enough to identify as a two-story house and an enormous barn.

      “Thank you, God,” she breathed, unclenching her fingers as she pulled up next to where Jayden had parked. She jabbed the ignition button and her car went still.

      She hadn’t even had time to unbuckle her seat belt when she saw him streak from his truck to the side of her car again, yanking open the door.

      “What—”

      “Hurry up.”

      Ariana automatically reached over for her phone that had once again fallen onto the passenger side floor.

      “Leave it.” His voice was sharp and her hackles started to rise.

      She deliberately closed her hand around the phone before straightening in her seat once more. Annoyed or not with his tone, she still needed to explore this whole Fortune thing. And a girl usually got further with honey than she did with vinegar. “I appreciate your—”

      “Sweetheart, in gear. Now.” He grabbed her arm, practically hauling her out of the car.

      Horror mingled with annoyance as she struggled against his iron grip, nearly tripping before she found steady footing. If it weren’t for her high-heeled boots, he would have towered over her. As it was, her forehead had a close encounter with the faint cleft in his sharp chin. “I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

      “I’m the guy who’s trying to get us to cover.”

      She dragged her blowing hair out of her eyes again. “Are you going to melt in the rain? Seems to me you’re already soaked through.”

      “No, but I don’t want a house coming down on those ruby slippers of yours.” He gestured and her mouth went dry all over again at the sight of the funnel cloud snaking downward from the clouds.

      “Oh, my God!” She grabbed his wet shirtfront. “That’s a tornado? Is it coming this way?”

      “Let’s not wait around to see, okay?” His hand was like iron as he pulled her along with him—not toward the nearby stone-sided house surrounded by a wraparound porch, but well off to the side of it in the direction of the barn. He stopped halfway there, though, letting go of her long enough to lean down and pull open a storm-cellar door angled into the earth. “Get in.”

      She looked nervously from the house to the barn, then stared into the black abyss below the cellar door. Ax murderer? Tornado? It was no time to weigh odds, but she couldn’t help herself.

      “Sweetheart, I’ll carry you down those steps myself if you don’t get your butt moving.” He whistled sharply, making her jump. But the bandanna-clad dog simply trotted past her, brushing against Ariana’s leg before sniffing the ground in front of the cellar entrance. “Steps, Sugar,” Jayden said and the dog hesitantly took a gingerly step down into the darkness. “She’s mostly blind. Don’t trip over her on your way down. There’s a handrail. Use it.”

      A blind dog.

      She couldn’t have made up such a detail if she’d tried.

      She held her arm around her head, trying to keep her hair from blowing in his face as well as hers as she took the first step beyond the wooden door. “Is that, uh, that door going to keep out a tornado?” The wood was faded nearly gray and looked to be a hundred years old. It was a fitting complement to the steep stairs, which seemed to be carved from stone.

      “Guess we’ll see, won’t we.” He was right on her heels, pulling the door closed as he followed her.

      “I’ve never been in a tornado.” Or gone down into a dark storm cellar with a blind dog and her handsome cuss of an owner.

      “I have. There’s usually a flashlight right here by the door, but I’ll find one soon as I can. The walls are stone, but the floor’s dirt. You’ll feel the difference when you get to the bottom.”

      She did, but was glad for the warning. She felt as blind as Sugar and leaned over to pet the dog, who seemed to plant herself immediately in front of Ariana’s shins. Then she felt Jayden brush against the back side of her as he, too, reached the base of the steps.

      She straightened like a shot.

      “Sorry,” he murmured. His hand cupped her shoulder as he sidled around her. “No electricity down here.”

      She wasn’t so sure about that. Both her butt and her shoulder were tingling from his brush against her, even after his touch left her and she heard him moving around.

      A deafening clap of thunder made her jump. Sugar whined and she knelt down to rub her hand over the shaggy dog, all the while looking up at the wooden cellar door. She had some serious doubts about that door. “Was that tornado a few years back in Paseo? Are we even still near Paseo?”

      “My address says so.” She heard a few clanks, and then a narrow but reassuring flashlight beam shone across the floor as he moved back to her side. “Here.” He handed her the sturdy, metal flashlight and retreated once more to what she could now see were shelving units lined up against two walls. “And there was a tornado around here a few years ago, but I wasn’t here for it. Shine that up here, would you?”

      “Sorry.” She immediately turned the flashlight in his direction again. But she’d seen enough of the rest of the cellar to know that it was larger than she’d expected. Her vivid imagination was conjuring any number of creepy crawlies hanging out in the far corners of the dirt-floored cellar.

      She realized her flashlight was trained squarely on his extremely excellent rear end and angled it upward where his hands were. “So where were you, then?”

      “Two years ago? Germany. The close-up brush I had with a tornado was further back than that. In Italy.”

      He spoke with a distinct Texas drawl that said he’d grown up here. “World traveler?”

      He shot her a grin over his shoulder. “Courtesy of the United States Army, ma’am.”

      She was glad he quickly turned back to his task. His grin was positively lethal.

      She sat down on the bottom step and rubbed Sugar’s warm head when the dog rested it on her lap. It was hard not to keep looking up at that cellar door. It was hard not wondering what unmentionable creatures they were disturbing in the dirt cellar with their very presence. “You don’t look like a soldier.” She jerked the flashlight upward again and jumped at another crack of thunder.

      “I’m not anymore. You don’t look like a reporter.”

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