Up to the Challenge (An Anchor Island Novel) (19 page)

Two large sheets of plywood hit the decking with no hesitation. “Vinnie and Chip,” she barked, “put your board against the railing here.” Sid pointed to her right and the men followed the order. “Now you two,” she said to Mitch and Lot. “Slide yours in place in front of it.”

As soon as the boards were stacked, Lucas came around the corner with his head down and a plastic container in his hands. “I can’t believe these things are still in the same box.” Looking up, he spotted Sid standing on the top step.

Her heart did some crazy flutter thing so she worked harder to school her features.

“What are you doing here?”

“I work here.” If he made a crack about men and tools and women and kitchens, she’d deck him. Date or no date.

His eyes dropped to the drill in her hand. “Good. You have tools.” He handed her the box. “See if you’ve got a bit that will work for these.” The flutter turned into a full-on somersault. Turning to the silent crew, he said, “There are six more sheets of plywood inside. We’ll bring them all out and stack them, then start putting them up.”

It took the guys five minutes to carry out the rest of the boards. During that time Sid found two bits that would work on the two-inch screws. Passing one off to Lucas, she asked, “You know how to use a drill?”

Lucas pursed his lips. “How would you feel if I asked you that question?”

Point taken. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Sid didn’t apologize often so the word didn’t come naturally. “I suggest we work in teams.” Glancing toward the guys dropping the last sheet on the stack, she said, “I’ll take Vinnie and Chip. You can have Mitch and Lot.”

“Why do I get Mitch and Lot?”

“Because if I take Lot, we’re going to be a man down after I drill a two-inch screw through his forehead.”

“Good point.” Lucas nodded. Turning to the crew, he said, “Mitch and Lot, you’re with me. We’ll start at the left down here. Vinnie and Chip, you go with Sid around to the other end. We’ll meet in the middle and have this done in no time.”

The words were clearly an order, but delivered in a way that sounded more like a suggestion. Interesting technique. None of the men questioned the plan, each following their respective leader. Sid hadn’t expected resistance, except maybe from Lucas. But he’d treated her as an equal.

There went that fluttery thing again.

Thanks to the wind, the job took a good thirty minutes. Every time they lifted a board off the floor, it threatened to blow out of their grip. Vinnie bitched about his delicate hands getting blisters, as only one side of the plywood was treated, but Chip kept his mouth shut and picked up the slack.

Once all was secure, the guys headed out to help other friends and board up their own homes. Sid turned to Lucas. “We might as well head over to your place. Beth said the fire crew was going to do your parents’ house, but we can get a head start on the bottom and let them use the ladders to do the second floor.”

“Works for me.” He picked up the drill and tool belt from where he’d dropped them by the steps. The combination of khakis, polo shirt, and a tool belt hit harder than expected.

The man was sex on a stick. And he was staring at her as she went loopy picturing him in nothing but the tool belt.

“You okay?” he asked. “You look like you’re going to pass out or something.”

“I’m fine,” she lied. “So I’ll see you over there?”

“Right behind you, boss.”

Sid drove away from Dempsey’s grinning like an idiot, but she didn’t care. Curly was right. Being nice worked. Not that she’d ever tell Curly that.

By six o’clock that evening, Lucas was tired, soaked, sore, and starving. They’d boarded up his parents’ house, Joe’s place, and then helped with the fitness center, which had the window wall from hell. The plywood sheets required four guys just to hold them and even then the damn things nearly broke their wrists when the wind caught them.

“I may never be able to lift my arms again.” On his back on a weight bench, Lucas turned his head to the left. “What are the chances you’d lift my beer so I can get a drink?”

Sid snorted. “No chance at all.”

And she’d been so nice all afternoon. He should have known it couldn’t last. “You’re not going to carry me home on this bench either, are you? I’ll have to sleep here then. It’s not like anyone will be going out in a hurricane to bench-press dumbbells.”

“There’s no kitchen here and once the power goes out you’ll be screwed. Go home, Dempsey.” Sid rolled off the balance ball she’d been using as a chair and tossed her empty beer bottle in the trash. “I’ve got to go put the boards up at my place.”

“What?” he said, sitting up faster than his body liked. A pain shot through his ribs. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Sid shrugged. “We were busy doing all these other places.”

Lucas pushed off the bench, taking two tries to reach his feet. “I’m coming with you.”

“Are you kidding?” Sid poked him with one finger and he swayed. “You’re spent, dude. I can handle it.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you do that alone. Not when you’re right on the water and by now the winds have to be pushing sixty out there.” Damn stubborn woman. “Let’s go before we lose what light is left.”

“But—”

“Don’t argue with me,” he yelled over his shoulder, pulling his keys from his pocket as he stomped to the door. What was wrong with her? Did she have no sense of self-preservation? She’d spent all day helping everyone else, and never asked for a hand in return. Well, she was getting one.

The waves crashed against the pier as Lucas pulled into Sid’s driveway. At least there were no trees around to crash through her roof. He waited for her to pull in on his left before hopping out and ducking under the opening garage door. Sid must have pushed the button as she pulled in.

The garage was cave-like and dark, so Lucas stayed near the entrance until the door was open far enough to illuminate his surroundings. Through the dusty beams from Sid’s
headlights, he saw wall-to-wall workbenches, each covered in more tools and junk than the one before. A cacophony of metal chaos.

The lights went out and Sid ran through the door with her head down, stopping just before crashing into his stomach like a missile. “Son of a bitch,” she said, shaking off water like a wet Lab coming out of the surf. “This is going to suck.”

“Then let’s get moving.” At least it wasn’t pouring as hard as it would be later. “Where do you keep the boards?”

“In the shed out back,” she yelled, the wind making it difficult to hear. “I’ll let the drill charge while we pull them out.”

His first thought was where in the world would she charge anything in that mess, but Sid walked straight to a workbench, slammed the drill onto a base, then turned his way. “Let’s go.”

He followed her back out into the storm, giant drops pinging off his face like they’d been shot from a BB gun. Joe had shot him with a BB once, so he knew exactly how it felt. As Sid worked the key into the lock of the shed, he tried to buffer her from the wind. Her hood blew down and dark hair whipped around her face.

When the shed door slid open, Sid pointed toward four boards along the right wall standing behind a riding mower. Verbal communication would have to wait until they were out of the elements. Together they removed the boards, laying each piece flat on the ground under whatever window of the house it was meant to cover. Information Sid had long ago spray-painted on each piece. A quick trip back for the drill and hardware, then they went to work.

The two windows in the back were the most difficult, as that side faced the water and was getting the wind full on. The two in front went on with little trouble, then Sid and Lucas were once again standing in the garage, both creating a puddle on the concrete floor.

As Sid pulled the wet hoodie over her head, the blue Evinrude T-shirt underneath rode up high enough for him to catch a glimpse of a delicate white bra with purple and green stars. Never in a million years …

“You can hang your jacket over there,” she yelled, flopping her sweatshirt on top of a bench and reaching for a switch on the wall. She flipped it, but nothing happened. “Shit. Power’s out already.”

“What now?” he asked, knowing he should drive home while he still had the chance, but reluctant to leave until certain Sid would be okay.

“Generator.”

“Where?”

“In the corner, but the gas cans are in the freaking shed.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

N
ot the answer he wanted to hear. “I’ll get them,” he said. “Go dry off.”

“You can’t carry all four cans. And there’s no way we’ll get back out there once Ingrid gets closer.” Sid headed for the open garage door. “We’ll go together.” She stopped just inside, glanced up at the darkening sky, then back his way. “You don’t melt, do you?” Her words were accompanied by a full-fledged smile. The one that put him on his proverbial ass every time she flashed it.

He joined her at the door. “You ready?” She nodded, then, eyes locked, they each took a deep breath. “Run!” he yelled, diving into the storm.

A blanket of water covered them instantly, icy drops rolling down his back and filling his shoes. That drive home was going to be damned uncomfortable. Sid kept pace, slipping on some wet grass, but Lucas reached out and kept her upright. They reached the shed side by side, Lucas pulling the door open and shoving Sid inside.

With mere inches of open floor space, they stood for a long moment, pressed together and breathing hard. Sid looked up, her head tilted back due to their vast difference
in height. He had her by at least a foot. Somehow he always forgot that until moments like this one.

One drop slid down Sid’s nose, landing on her full upper lip, where she licked it off. His body responded as if he’d been hit head on by a train. Leaning forward, he regained control inches from her mouth.

“Where are they?” he growled, tension and heat rolling through his body despite the cold material clinging to his skin. He half expected steam to fill the air around them.

Sid shoved wet strands of black hair off her forehead and glanced around. Stepping onto the riding mower she said, “Over here.”

The packed shed prevented Lucas from moving beyond where he stood. “Hand them over.”

Two red, five-gallon cans appeared over the mower as if they weighed five ounces instead of thirty pounds each. He dropped them at his feet, then reached back for the next ones. By the time the last two hit the floor, Sid had scaled the John Deere and was once again pressed against his side.

The sound of the rain driving against the shed roof made it impossible to hear, so he motioned toward the door and she nodded in response. Lifting two cans, Sid ran out first, with Lucas close behind. They didn’t make it ten feet before tiny balls of ice filled the air, pelting them like golf balls on a driving range.

He heard a scream seconds before the cans hit the ground and Sid’s ass followed suit. The back porch was less than twenty feet away so Lucas made a hard right, dropped his two on the deck, then slid them toward the door. When he turned back, Sid was sitting with her arms over her head, trying to protect herself from the pounding hail.

She shouldn’t be out here, damn it
. Shredding the ground between them, Lucas swept Sid off the ground, cradling her against his chest to offer what little protection he could.

“Wait,” she screamed. “We need the gas!”

He bent at the knees so she could reach the two cans, then once she had a solid grip, broke into a run again. He’d wonder later where he found the strength to pull off the Herculean task, but in that moment he’d have carried the damn shed if it meant getting Sid safe inside.

Ducking into the garage, he tossed Sid to her feet and turned to close the door behind them. As he slid the latch home, Lucas heard Sid dragging the generator into the middle of the floor.

“Forget it,” he barked, grabbing her arm and dragging her to the inside door.

“But we need—”

“Dry first.” Pushing her into the kitchen, he bent to loosen his shoelaces, kicking the Nikes off next to the entry rug, then ripping off his socks and dropping them inside. “You got towels around here?” he asked, looking up to find Sid staring at him.

He couldn’t see more than her outline in the darkness, but her stance expressed loud and clear what his body had been telling him for days. They stood there, in Sid’s pristine kitchen, panting and dripping in silence for what felt like an eternity before Sid launched herself against him.