I have no question. This is my life. She is my life. She and Jo and whatever else might come our way.
I am all in. And, at least for the moment, it seems that Lindy is calling my bet.
A loud crack of thunder makes us both jump. We break apart, but only just. Her hands still roam my chest, our lips still brush as we smile. Her breath is hot against my lips. I’m about to say something, probably something really stupid like, I love you, when there is another rumble, one louder and closer than thunder.
The whole yard lights up with a flash that feels way, way too close.
I’ve never heard a sound like the one that follows, a tearing, wrenching, terrible craaaaack.
I set Lindy down but keep my arms tightly banded around her as we turn toward the sound. As we watch, the dead oak tree falls right toward the other side of the house. There is a crash and the sound of glass shattering.
I feel the thudding boom in the bare soles of my feet.
Grasping Lindy’s hand, I tug her with me, discarding the wet sheet on the muddy ground. As suddenly and violently as it came, the storm begins to let up, and the angry rumble of thunder recedes.
We reach the other side of the house, and Lindy gasps. The house is still standing, but all the windows on that side are broken. Some branches are fully inside the house. Wet curtains flap through the openings in the wind, which is dying down along with the storm. In places, the wood siding has been ripped away, splintered wood everywhere.
I let go of Lindy’s hand to wrap my arm around her shoulder. It could have been worse, especially if Jo were home and we were all inside. But this is her childhood home, and the damage is significant.
Lindy turns to me with wide eyes, her lashes spiky and wet. I can’t read the emotion in her face. “My house.”
I press a kiss to her temple. “I’m so sorry. We’ll take care of this, Lindybird. You and Jo are safe. The dogs are safe.”
“Pat, the unflinching optimist,” Lindy says, lightly pinching my side. “Next, you’re going to tell me you have an extra house just lying around.”
I shift on my feet, bending to scratch my ankle monitor, which is even more uncomfortable when wet. Lindy stops laughing and stares up at me with narrowed eyes.
“Pat—I know that look. What?”
“Actually, I have a surprise I was saving for a rainy day.” I look around with exaggerated surprise. “I guess that ends up being today.”
Lindy brushes her wet bangs out of her eyes. “Cut the suspense! What is it?”
If Lindy protested the things I’ve done around the house, I have no idea how she’ll respond to THIS. Go big or go home, right?
“I’ve been restoring a loft downtown for us. It’s not quite finished, but it’s definitely habitable. Especially compared to this. So, um, surprise?”
The look on Lindy’s face says she’s either thinking of kissing or killing me. When she goes up on her toes, pulling my lips down to hers, I get my answer.
Chapter Thirty
Lindy
I may regret this later, but for the moment, all I can think about is how good it feels to give in to Pat. I’ve waved my white flag, invited him in to storm my castle, and am loving every moment of being vanquished. The weird part is, I may have surrendered, but it somehow feels like I’ve won. I gave up everything, lost nothing, and gained even MORE.
Is this what love is like?
I lean closer to Pat, trying to ignore the way the center console of his truck is digging into my ribs. We need to replace his truck with one that doesn’t have this annoying thing in the middle of the front seats. It’s really cramping my style. Who needs cup holders or storage? Not I!