After a long shower and cleaning up my living area on the third floor of the inn, I make my way back down to the main lobby. It started raining a few minutes ago, so I might get a few guests coming in from the unexpected storm.
I grab the thriller novel I’ve been slowly working my way through and build a fire in the fireplace to give myself the perfect cozy atmosphere to read. With the rain outside, the warmth of the fire inside, and a good book in my hands, I’m set up for a nice and quiet evening. If only I could stop thinking about Gabby.
As if I’ve conjured her up, I hear Gabby padding down the hallway, presumably to yell at me about something. I can’t help the grin spreading across my face. I can’t wait.
“It’s raining,” she says, not bothering to greet me.
I nod in response, which earns me a glare.
“Well, when is it going to stop?”
“No idea. Rain wasn’t in the forecast.”
“I know. I looked it up. I always know when storms are coming, but then this… ugh!” She huffs in frustration.
I’m not sure why the storm has her so riled up. “Are you a storm tracker?”
“God, no,” she replies with a surprising amount of disgust. “I just like being prepared for every situation.”
That checks out. Always in control. Always one step ahead. “What about surprise parties? Or spontaneous weekend trips?”
“Overrated.”
Her flat tone pulls a chuckle from me. “What if a date took you to a new restaurant? Or a movie you haven’t seen the trailer for?”
“A fate worse than death,” she deadpans. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve ever been in either of those situations.”
Her cheeks glow bright red at the admission that she’s never been on a date. It shouldn’t make me possessive or give me crazy ideas of keeping the jaded yet fragile woman forever. But damn it if I don’t want to be all her firsts.
“Storms around here can be unpredictable,” I say, going back to her original topic. I don’t want her to feel embarrassed around me.
“That’s not helpful,” she mutters.
Gabby paces in front of the fireplace, glancing out of the big bay window across the room every so often. She’s so intense right now. I mean, she’s always intense, but this… this is something else. Gabby is on edge, though I’m not sure if it’s just because her plans have been delayed yet again or something deeper.
I notice she’s shivering slightly, so I get up from my spot on the couch and add another log to the fire. “You can’t control everything,” I tell her.
“I can try,” comes her automatic response.
“What’s so terrifying about letting go? Isn’t it exhausting to always be the one pulling the strings?”
Gabby pauses her frantic, almost manic pacing and turns to face me. Her hazel eyes are more brown than green as they reflect the amber glow of the flames. She furrows her brow and tilts her head to the side, studying everything about me. I have no idea what she’s looking for, but I pray she finds it. I’m not sure how or when it happened, but my new goal in life is to get Gabby to relax and feel safe, even when she’s not in control of every little detail.
She opens her mouth, likely to scold me for prying into her life, but the lights flicker before going out altogether. A second later, the air is filled with a deafening crack of thunder.
Before I realize what’s happening, Gabby yelps and then flings herself into my arms. I catch her and hold her close, too shocked to say anything. The usually prickly and sarcastic woman is trembling from head to toe, and her face is buried in my chest as she tries to suppress her sobs.
My heart shatters for her in this moment. Gabby’s fear is like a physical presence. I swear I can feel it suffocating her with each labored breath. What the hell happened to her?
A deep boom of thunder rattles the windowpanes, sending Gabby into another fit of tears. It all clicks into place. Gabby wasn’t angry with me when she stomped in and demanded an itinerary for the inclement weather. She was terrified of the storm.
I gently guide us toward the couch, though I’m practically carrying Gabby since she can’t seem to move. I don’t mind. As crazy as it sounds, I like having her back in my arms again. It kills me that she was probably feeling this way last night during the storm, too. I was sleeping just a floor above her. If I had known… Well, I’m here now. That’s all that matters.
Gabby clings to me once I get us settled on the couch. Her fists clutch the fabric of my shirt as if the wind and rain are going to blow us both away at any moment. I’m glad I thought to build a fire, since it’s the only light and heat we’ll have until the power comes back on.
My fingers smooth over her back and shoulders in what I hope is a comforting gesture. Gabby snuggles deeper, as if she’s trying to dissolve into me. I have no idea what caused this kind of reaction, but it’s so much deeper than just this storm. Whatever this woman has been trying so hard to hide is about to come out.
I take slow and steady breaths, hoping to calm her down. With each inhale, I smell her cinnamon and sugar scent, and with each exhale, I grow more determined to figure out what makes this woman tick.
