and started to untie it again. "Naked, huh?"
The fabric gaped open a little at the neck, revealing the smooth
swell of one breast. "Really?"
Maybe the clothes weren't dry, but
his mouth was. He turned his back and barely glanced over his
shoulder at her. "You can check them," he told her, moving
back far enough to lay the bundle of clothing on the couch. "But
they're still pretty...damp."
Her robe landed over his shoulder.
"I guess I'll just have to live with being a little bit wet."
He fought a groan. The last thing he
needed was to get caught up in her again, especially when he had work
to do. "You could make a preacher cuss, you know that?"
At least the rustle of fabric
attested to the fact that she was getting dressed, damp clothes or
no. "What do you mean could ?
Don't you remember when I got chased out of the church for the frog
fiasco?"
Wes laughed. "Brother Daniels
always was a little too worldly. You weren't living here when he ran off with
the church treasurer, were you? I'm sure your granny told you all
about it."
"She might have," Addie
agreed, sounding amused. "You know she called me every week with
all the gossip."
Which meant Granny must have told
her why Wes had moved from Atlanta back to Carter's Bay. "Then I
guess you've heard all the tragedy of my broken engagement and the
heartbreak that led me to flee big city life in favor of a simple,
small-town existence." He rolled his eyes.
"Heartbreak?" Her voice
was light as she walked around the couch, fully clothed. "Gran
said you couldn't bear to be away from her pecan pie. Seemed
believable to me, considering that you can eat a whole damn one by
yourself."
He gave her what he hoped was his
most dashing, knee-melting grin. "It's likelier she didn't want
you to know I was seeing other women."
Addie gave an unladylike snort. "How
could you not have been? They always threw themselves at you, and I never noticed
you doing much dodging."
Wes had done his fair share of dodging, but Addie seemed to like the idea of
him as a lady-killing Lothario, so he let it lie. "I had to find
some way to kill the pain of your rejection," he teased.
She bent down to tighten the laces
on her boots and then rose, picking up her bag as she did. "I'll
soothe your ego later, sweetheart. For now, let's go see how much of
this island is left."
He made a face at her and lifted the
bright red emergency bags from the table. "You're a smartass,
Addie Jo." He held the door open for her. "It's probably
been at least twenty-four hours since you've heard that, though,
right?"
Addie just winked at him and started
up the stairs.
The devastation in the lobby was an
indication of how bad things would be on the rest of the island.
Addie picked her way across the broken glass, her eyes taking in
debris that had blown in through the decimated windows. "The
fact that the building's still standing is a good sign." She
poked carefully at the wobbly front door. "The winds must have
dropped down before it hit."
Wes snorted. "Either that, or
it veered away from us, and there are worse places up the coast."
"It could have." She moved
out onto the front porch, and her brown eyes surveyed the
sand-scattered drive and the downed trees around them with a cool,
scientific detachment. "Damn, I should have been at home with my
equipment."
"You were busy, Addie." He
stepped past her, his boots crunching on glass and small, sodden
branches. A wrought-iron café table rested, upended, against
one edge of the porch, and he tapped her shoulder and pointed to a
golf cart sitting low in the branches of a live oak. "Finding a
boat that'll still float might be trickier than I thought."
"The fact that the water
probably rose a half mile won't help things." She sighed and
glanced at him. "Ready for a long morning?"
He raised an eyebrow at her as he
tried to puzzle out her words. "The water doesn't look half a
mile higher today to me."
"Half mile inland," she
clarified. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if the
The fabric gaped open a little at the neck, revealing the smooth
swell of one breast. "Really?"
Maybe the clothes weren't dry, but
his mouth was. He turned his back and barely glanced over his
shoulder at her. "You can check them," he told her, moving
back far enough to lay the bundle of clothing on the couch. "But
they're still pretty...damp."
Her robe landed over his shoulder.
"I guess I'll just have to live with being a little bit wet."
He fought a groan. The last thing he
needed was to get caught up in her again, especially when he had work
to do. "You could make a preacher cuss, you know that?"
At least the rustle of fabric
attested to the fact that she was getting dressed, damp clothes or
no. "What do you mean could ?
Don't you remember when I got chased out of the church for the frog
fiasco?"
Wes laughed. "Brother Daniels
always was a little too worldly. You weren't living here when he ran off with
the church treasurer, were you? I'm sure your granny told you all
about it."
"She might have," Addie
agreed, sounding amused. "You know she called me every week with
all the gossip."
Which meant Granny must have told
her why Wes had moved from Atlanta back to Carter's Bay. "Then I
guess you've heard all the tragedy of my broken engagement and the
heartbreak that led me to flee big city life in favor of a simple,
small-town existence." He rolled his eyes.
"Heartbreak?" Her voice
was light as she walked around the couch, fully clothed. "Gran
said you couldn't bear to be away from her pecan pie. Seemed
believable to me, considering that you can eat a whole damn one by
yourself."
He gave her what he hoped was his
most dashing, knee-melting grin. "It's likelier she didn't want
you to know I was seeing other women."
Addie gave an unladylike snort. "How
could you not have been? They always threw themselves at you, and I never noticed
you doing much dodging."
Wes had done his fair share of dodging, but Addie seemed to like the idea of
him as a lady-killing Lothario, so he let it lie. "I had to find
some way to kill the pain of your rejection," he teased.
She bent down to tighten the laces
on her boots and then rose, picking up her bag as she did. "I'll
soothe your ego later, sweetheart. For now, let's go see how much of
this island is left."
He made a face at her and lifted the
bright red emergency bags from the table. "You're a smartass,
Addie Jo." He held the door open for her. "It's probably
been at least twenty-four hours since you've heard that, though,
right?"
Addie just winked at him and started
up the stairs.
The devastation in the lobby was an
indication of how bad things would be on the rest of the island.
Addie picked her way across the broken glass, her eyes taking in
debris that had blown in through the decimated windows. "The
fact that the building's still standing is a good sign." She
poked carefully at the wobbly front door. "The winds must have
dropped down before it hit."
Wes snorted. "Either that, or
it veered away from us, and there are worse places up the coast."
"It could have." She moved
out onto the front porch, and her brown eyes surveyed the
sand-scattered drive and the downed trees around them with a cool,
scientific detachment. "Damn, I should have been at home with my
equipment."
"You were busy, Addie." He
stepped past her, his boots crunching on glass and small, sodden
branches. A wrought-iron café table rested, upended, against
one edge of the porch, and he tapped her shoulder and pointed to a
golf cart sitting low in the branches of a live oak. "Finding a
boat that'll still float might be trickier than I thought."
"The fact that the water
probably rose a half mile won't help things." She sighed and
glanced at him. "Ready for a long morning?"
He raised an eyebrow at her as he
tried to puzzle out her words. "The water doesn't look half a
mile higher today to me."
"Half mile inland," she
clarified. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if the
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