Page 65 of Hogging the Hunk
“Daddy!” she called.
“We’re in the utility closet!” I shouted. The wind outside whipped through the trees, snarling and growling with a ferocity that only seemed to intensify. Somewhere nearby, we could hear the crack of a tree splitting in two.
It felt like an eternity, but it could have only been a few seconds until Milo flung open the doors. His eyes were wild, and he held his phone’s flashlight over Ellie. He visibly breathed a sigh of relief and when he turned his light on me, his mouth did exactly what I hoped it would—hitched into the happiest smile I’d ever seen on him.
“You’re here,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Suddenly shy despite the raging destruction outside, I tucked my wind-whipped hair out of my face. “There are some things I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
The dreaded cry of the dreaded tornado siren sounded close by. A shock of adrenaline usurped my senses. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to be flirting.
“The door to the basement is locked.” I rose to my feet and helped Ellie from the floor.
Hastily, Milo moved us behind him. “The key’s in my desk drawer.”
“Your desk is a mess!” Ellie was on the edge of hyperventilating and she whimpered. “There’s no way we’re going to find it in the dark!”
“It’s alright, honey.” Moving us aside, Milo kicked open the door on his first try. The lock splintered, and the door bounced off the wall. Pushing it aside, Milo grabbed Ellie, Truffle, and me, rushing us down the stairs.
I stalled. “Don’t forget Aspen!”
Milo shined his light around the room. “Where is she?”
“In that box.” Milo hoisted a box of toilet bowl cleaner onto his hip. “No! Not that one. That one!”
With the right box on his hip, he followed me down the stairs. Finding two spare cinder blocks that had been left by the builders, and a bag of softener salt for the water treatment tank, he returned up the stairs to brace the door shut with the heaviest things he could find. Ellie shined the light on her dad while he worked and I paced. Logically, I knew we were in danger—my thoughts were with my community, hoping and praying we’d make it out in one piece—but dang it if I couldn’t stop ogling the muscles of Milo’s back. His wet shirt clung to him so tightly he might as well have not been wearing one at all.
Then we heard it. The telltale roar of an approaching tornado, making the whole building quiver and our ears pop.
“The taco’s being chewed!” Ellie screamed, clapping her hands over her ears.
“What’s she talking about?” Milo shouted over the noise.
“Long story!” I yelled back.
I pulled Ellie into a protective hug. Milo wrapped his arms around both of us. Pressed close to him, listening to metal scrape against metal and trees snapping like they were nothing more than toothpicks, I cleaved to them both.
Chapter Twenty
Milo
“That definitely sounded like a tornado,” Beckett said. There was a tremor in her words, and instinctively, I drew her closer. She was safe with me. Or rather, I was completely protected with her by my side.
My chin rested atop the crown of Beckett’s head, and she curled into my chest. All it took was a natural disaster to bring us together. “I’ve never been in one, but I’m going to have to agree. It sounded like a speeding freight train.”
Even safely tucked underground, the whooshing, destructive cacophony of it was incredible. Once I’d secured the door as best as I could, I collapsed on the ground, exhausted from every mental and physical exertion that had been required of me that evening which didn’t start with me taking Bonita home.
When I caught a glimpse of Beckett leaving Fox Central park with her hand in Greg’s, defeat javelin-ed me straight through. As far as I was concerned, that’s when disaster first struck Button Blossom. I struggled to maintain my composure after that and it wasn’t until I found Beckett watching over Ellie, Aspen, and Truffle that a palpable relief pulled the spear back out.
It was the scent of Beckett’s perfume that kept me calm in the middle of the whole ordeal, waiting for what seemed like ages for the tornado to pass us by. Sitting in the dark with her huddled next to me, and Ellie on my other side, it was an odd time to think I’d been extraordinarily blessed. But, then again, when was a better time to count one’s blessings except when they’d almost slipped away?
“I think the storm’s passed us.” Beckett shifted her legs and stretched out from the ball she’d curled into during the worst of the storm.
Geographically, our lips were so close. Maybe closer than they’d ever been. It would be so easy to maneuver her chin up to mine and comfort her with a soft kiss.
My daughter, however, would not have appreciated any overt displays of affection. I had already waited this long for a kiss. I could hold on a little while longer.
From upstairs, all we could hear were soft splashes of rain. Ellie rocked Truffle in her lap like she was shushing a screaming baby. I suspected Ellie’s pet pig was sound asleep through most of the ordeal.