Gran nodded. “Good thinking. I’m going to sit in the front room in case any other guests come back, though I hope they all just take shelter somewhere and let it blow over. Why don’t you two do what you want for a while? There’s not much else to do until the power comes back on.”
She glanced at Brent, unsure of what to suggest. Gran’s eyes twinkled as she added, “You know, you could take a couple glasses of wine and go up to the lookout room. It’s a great place to watch the storm roll in.”
She turned to Brent. “What do you think? Want to storm-watch for a bit? I used to love going up there and watching the storms when I was younger.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Gran shooed them toward the wine rack. “Go on, then. I’ve got things covered down here.”
Felicity selected a bottle of red wine, and Brent nodded in agreement. She grabbed two glasses and an opener while Brent picked up a lantern. With the small circle of light to show the way, they carefully climbed the stairs. At the top, she opened the door, revealing a cozy space with windows on all sides.
As they entered, a flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed by a low rumble of thunder. She set the wine and glasses on a small table near the window and Brent placed the lantern nearby.
“Wow,” Brent breathed, taking in the panoramic view of the stormy sky and churning waves. “This is incredible.”
She smiled at his look of awe. “It really is something, isn’t it?”
She poured them each a glass of wine and flicked off the lantern, giving their eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light. She led him over to the window seat and they settled on it, watching as the storm intensified outside. The wind howled around the corners of the house, and rain lashed against the windows.
“I’ve always loved watching storms,” she said, her voice soft against the backdrop of the raging storm. “There’s something so powerful and mesmerizing about them.”
He nodded, his gaze fixed on the swirling clouds outside. “I know what you mean. It’s like watching nature’s raw energy putting on a display.”
A flash of lightning illuminated the room, casting sharp shadows across their faces. Felicity counted silently in her head, waiting for the inevitable crash of thunder. When it came, even though she was expecting it, the loud crash made her jump, her wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim of her glass.
He moved closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.
She leaned into him, relishing the solid strength of his body against hers. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky, and she glanced up at him, her heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his eyes as he stared down at her.
For a brief, breathless moment, she thought he might kiss her. And in that instant, she realized that she wanted him to. The thought sent a thrill through her, a warmth that had nothing to do with the wine spreading through her veins.
But instead, he simply pulled her closer, his arm tightening around her as they sat there, watching the storm in contented silence. The wind continued to howl, the rain a constant patter against the windows, but inside, in the warmth of Brent’s embrace, she felt safe and protected.
They stayed like that, watching the storm until the lightning became more distant and the thunder faded to a low rumble. Finally, he spoke, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room. “Thank you for sharing this with me. I can’t remember the last time I just stopped and watched a storm. It was nice.” He smiled at her. “And I enjoyed the company too.”
She smiled, tilting her head to look up at him. “It was nice, wasn’t it?”
He returned her smile, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. The gesture was tender, intimate, and her heart filled with an emotion she wasn’t quite ready to name.
As the last of the storm faded away, they remained there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between them brimming with potential.
Chapter10
Felicity woke to the sound of voices downstairs. She glanced at the clock, realizing she’d slept later than usual. The events of last night—the storm, the wine, and sitting in the window seat with Brent—flooded back, and a smile crept across her face.
She dressed quickly and headed down to the kitchen, where Gran was bustling about, preparing breakfast.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Gran teased. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d join us at all.”
“Us?” she asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“The knitting club, remember? They’ll be here any minute.”
She’d completely forgotten the knitting club was coming today. “Oh, right. Do you need help setting up?”
Gran shook her head. “Everything’s ready. Why don’t you join us today? It’s been ages since you picked up those needles.”
She hesitated. It had been years since she’d knitted anything. But the idea of sitting with a group of women, creating something with her hands, suddenly appealed to her. “You know what? I think I will.”
