Sucking her clit into my mouth, I gently nudge that stiff little bead with my tongue. Her sweetness flows down my chin; her thighs begin to quiver.

  “Urrgh,” Izzy rasps.

  I’ll admit I’m a dirty dog; I love making this well-spoken woman go incoherent. That’s nothing compared to what she’s doing to me. She’s got me begging, demanding. Needing. After tonight she’s going to know full well I’m at her beck and call. Mortal enemies from opposite sides of the river, but she’s got me on my knees.

  Just as my Izzy shatters into pieces with her release, the lights come on.

  Does that stop me? No. Want more. Warrior will always want more.

  Her sweet cunt spasms around my tongue as her fingers tug tufts of my hair. “Too much, too much!”

  Backing off, I come face to face with what I’ve done. I’ve ravaged her. Her glassy eyes, flushed cheeks, parted lips, heaving breasts. I scoop her up off the mattress like a rag doll to kiss her, share her taste with her. She sighs and whispers, “Had enough?” Izzy’s lips curl up on one side.

  “Sweetheart, I’m just getting started.”

  My rock-hard cock twitches in response to Izzy’s low, sexy laugh. “We should probably go check on the neighbors.”

  Izzy has a good heart under that brassy exterior wall she puts up. Still, I’m not ready to go back to the real world yet.

  But what does snap me back to reality is the ringing of my phone.

  I pick it up off of the bathroom counter and look at the screen. Sheriff Mooney’s calling, and I know this can’t be good. Sparing me the pleasantries, the sheriff launches right in. “Lotta trees down. One fell right on the Jenkins property. I’ve found Ernestine a place to stay for tonight, but we’re gonna need your chainsaw just as soon as the sun comes up.”

  I tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can, guilt riddling me. How could I leave town just before the worst thunderstorm in a decade?

  Wrapping herself in a blanket, Izzy stands in the hallway, attempting to lift her bulky mattress. “You gotta go, don’t you?”

  I nod and describe the situation.

  “You don’t need to explain,” she says. “And you don’t need to fix my bed back up; I can take it from here.”

  Shoving the mattress back on her box spring, I turn to her and lock her in place with a deep kiss.

  “I told him I would be there first thing in the morning. There’s nothing for me to do tonight, not while it’s dark. I’m staying with you in case the power goes out again.”

  She smiles up at me wistfully. “That’s very sweet, but—”

  Again, my phone rings. This time, it’s Rex.

  “What’s happening, brother?” I have him on speaker, so I can keep my lips firmly planted on Izzy’s while I’m muted.

  “Shit show, that’s what,” says Rex. “A tree fell on the exhibition pavilion. The roof caved in.”

  A tight, burning sensation hits me in the gut.

  “And how’s our big yellow ball?”

  He hesitates. Izzy’s face registers what this call is about and she covers her heart with her hand.

  “The ball of yarn is ruined, Danny. Juniper is beside herself.”

  I glance down at Izzy, who’s now covering her mouth in shock.

  “I’m so sorry,” she says.

  “Guess the god of thunder sided with Gold Hill,” I say without thinking. “Y’all have your title back.”

  Instantly, I know that was the wrong thing to say. Izzy’s eyes go wide, and she crosses her arms in a defensive posture. She doesn’t clap back. “That’s hardly important under the circumstances. Well, you need to go, and I need to get dressed. Who knows what kind of damage we took here. I should call my uncle and be ready to go out and help people, anyway.”

  I shake my head. “I’m sorry. My dark humor got away from me.”

  She bites her lip and looks up at me, but when I take a step towards her, she takes a step back. And my heart shatters on the floor.

  “You should go. I’ll be fine without you here. I promise. Go help the people who need you.”

  She’s right. Of course, she is. But I hate leaving us like that. Without talking through what we’d just done. Without making sure she knows how I feel. How I’m interested in way more than fooling around on her bathroom floor.

  I want her in my life. I will have her in my life. There’s no question. The only question is what people will inevitably be asking as soon as they find out. How could I betray Fate by sleeping with the enemy?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Izzy

  Turns out, Gold Hill saw the least of the storm damage last night, and poor little Fate got the worst of it.

  After speaking to my uncle and the fire chief this morning, it looks like all we experienced due to the high winds was a few downed trees, but no damage to homes. Cutting my eyes to my front window, I can see the street crew has already finished hauling away all the limbs from my street. They should be sending a thank-you fruit basket to Danny. In his determination to leave last night when called upon by his town, he got out his chainsaw from the back of his landscaping truck. He went to work, slicing through the massive trunk to create a passage just enough for cars to move through.

  I sip my coffee as I sit on the edge of my love seat and take in the morning’s local news broadcast. The camera pans the downtown area of the tiny town, showing trees and power lines knocked down. Roofs caved in. Fortunately, no one was injured, and I exhale in relief.

  When the camera cuts to the scene at the courthouse square, my stomach drops.

  The pavilion roof has been partially blown off and partially caved in. There’s scrap everywhere, and the giant ball of yarn is now a massive ball of mud, leaves, and branches.

  “Oh no,” I say aloud to myself, my hand automatically covering my mouth.

  I feel awful. I think this is some sort of punishment for making a big deal about our respective “world’s largest” claims to fame. It’s ridiculous, of course, but if Mother Nature intended for me to feel remorse over making such a fuss, then She succeeded.

  “Oh, Danny, I’m so sorry.”

  As if I conjured him, all of a sudden, his face is there, on my screen. The TV reporter has a mic in his face, and he looks a little bewildered by it. “Well, we already have volunteers working on salvaging as much of the yarn as we can. Unfortunately, our other attraction, the Curiosity Spot, also took some damage to the gift shop. But my main concern is making sure people are safe and have a place to sleep while their homes are repaired or rebuilt. People are coming together to help each other, and that’s what it’s all about.”

  His words are hopeful, but he looks as if he’s been awake all night. His eyes are bloodshot, the creases in his forehead are deeper. A powerful urge to feed him and wrap him up in a blanket takes hold of me.

  When the camera cuts away from Danny, the segment shows a group of volunteers carefully unwinding and cleaning the big ball of yarn under a tent, surrounded by generators powering fans and space heaters. Some people are cleaning tiny bits of debris from the fibers. Others are actually going after the wet spots with hair dryers. There looks to be about seven people doing emergency work on two thousand pounds of fussy, intricate fibers.

  “It could take years to recover. I admit it’s not important to the outside world,” says a woman whom I don’t know, captioned “Billie Jane, Local Fiber Expert.” “But I admit it’s pretty devastating. It was a lot of work putting this together and to see it all destroyed in one night is tough to take. But we’ll manage. We’ll have to cancel this year’s fiber festival, which we were excited to debut in three weeks, but that’s not important right now.”

  Oh no. This simply will not do.

  By the time I’m sliding into my muck boots, I’ve made half a dozen phone calls.

  Uncle Stan isn’t going to like this, but he’ll just have to grow a heart for this one.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Danny

  “And another thing. Have you ever considered the effect of that smart-alec mouth?”

  Ernestine is giving me an old-fashioned tongue lashing in the middle of my task at hand, which is cleaning up her yard of storm debris.

  The wind did a number on her trees: sheared off the tops of two of them, knocked a tree down that caved in the roof of her aged farmhouse, and completely decimated the Curiosity Spot gift shop. “Gift shop” is a very generous term for the former outhouse that her husband converted into a booth with shelf displays of screen-printed souvenir shot glasses and keychains. But I’m not about to downplay the situation, not to this woman.

  Even though I’m helping her out, I deserve every bit of her ire.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You have considered it? Because it seems to me you have not shown a history of thinking through your words, young man.”

  I pause halfway to the burn pit, readjusting the armload of tree limbs that I’ve just picked from her littered yard. “I mean to say I have very recently begun to consider it. Right after I yelled at you. I’m very sorry.”

  Part of me would like to pretend I have more chainsawing to do here so I could drown her out as she continues to cluck at me all the way across her muddied property. On the other hand, if I cut all of this any smaller, there won’t be anything left but sawdust. I have to face my punishment for shouting at the town matriarch one way or another.

  “Stack it neatly. Don’t be tossing it any old place like you do on a normal grass-cutting day. That’s right, Danny Bryce, I see the way you haphazardly pile those cuttings all over the streets; well, you just mind your Ps and Qs. I’m watching you….”

  Two familiar pickup trucks are rumbling up the gravel road toward me as I stack all these cut limbs in perfect piles, and I’ve never been so grateful to see those old farmers, Rin and Marlon. They love to show up and troll us mercilessly at our town council meetings, like those two old Muppet characters but with saucier mouths. I don’t know what they’re doing here, but I’ll take some lighthearted trolling over having my ears boxed.

  Rin and Marlon park along the ditch and hop out of their trucks. “Came to see if you need any help hauling this away.”

  Ernestine steps forward, hands on her hips. “Why, I’m just gonna burn it.”

  Rin looks at Marlon and shrugs. “We thought we’d dry it out, chop it for firewood.”

  If flames could shoot out of Ernestine’s ears, it would set this whole soggy yard afire. “What are you thinking of doing? Making money off my losses?”

  “No, ma’am,” says Marlon. “And personally, I am deeply hurt that you would think we would try to profit off your devastation. We would like to sell the firewood to help you rebuild your beautiful gift shop if you allow it.”

  I have known Ernestine since I was six years old, and never in my life have I ever seen this woman speechless. She makes a series of incoherent puffs and splutters, then bursts into tears.

  Rin and Marlon exchange glances like they don’t know what to do next. Marlon takes out his hankie, and Rin offers a hug.

  The old Ernestine comes roaring back. “No, I do not want your filthy snot rag, Marlon, and Rin; if you try to touch me, my dead husband will come back from the dead and haunt you in your sleep. But I accept your offer.”

  I offer to help haul the wood to their trucks, but Ernestine drags me by the earlobe into the house.

  “It’s not safe, Ernestine,” I say as she whips aside the yellow caution tape and marches me into the kitchen.

  “Hush, and have some lemonade. You’ve been working hard,” she says, extracting a bottle from the fridge and fetching a glass from the cupboard.

  “Better put that food in coolers until the power comes back on. Want me to fetch you some from the hardware store?”

  “No, I want you to drink your lemonade and then take me on down to the square so I can help those people. That ball of yarn was Juniper’s and Billie Jane’s baby, and we need to make sure they know we’re going to take care of their baby.”

  I start to tell her that’s very kind of her, but nobody expects her to volunteer to fix the yarn ball, seeing as she’s lost her home.

  “My hoarder husband may be dead, but there was a reason we got together. Take this to the truck.” She gestures to a bin full of hair dryers. “Besides, if I don’t do something to keep busy, I’ll cry. You want me crying?”

  She has a point there.

  “Well, now what’s the matter with you, Danny? You look like you might be about to cry.”

  I am nowhere near crying, but I do have a lump in my throat. Listening to our town elder talk about her husband makes me remember how they used to bicker. Everyone could tell how much they loved each other, though. It makes me want that. It makes me want that with Izzy. It’s crazy to be so sure, so soon. But I don’t care.

  “May I ask you how you and your husband met?”

  Ernestine’s face changes. She softens, and her eyes sparkle. If I’m not mistaken, I think I see her blushing. “Well, now. We met at the homecoming bonfire in 1962. Fate had just lost the football game to Gold Hill, but we had our little keg party anyway. Well, don’t look so surprised, Danny. Your generation didn’t invent parties, you know. Buck was from Gold Hill, but he sneaked into the party unnoticed. He had spotted me in my cheerleading uniform from the other side of the field, and he followed me all the way to the party so he could meet me. All my friends stopped talking to me when I married him a month later. He moved to Fate and helped out my daddy on the farm, and soon I fell pregnant. Mama and Daddy lived with us right here in this house until they died. We had our differences, but it was his heart that mattered. He took care of Mama and Daddy, took care of me, was wonderful to our kids, and called me his little Date with Fate until he didn’t…well, until he didn’t recognize me anymore. My only regret was that I wished we’d met when I was even younger. I would have married him at 15 if I could have. That’s how instantly I knew we were destined to be together.”

  I can’t speak. Literally, my voice is lodged somewhere behind this boulder of emotion in my throat.

  “All right, Ms. Ernestine. Let’s go.”

  When we pull up to the pavilion, I’m not prepared for what we see.

  A petite woman with her hair piled up in a bun, a pink satin jacket, and tall rubber boots is tromping through the mud, carrying baskets and boxes of food into a tent where the volunteers are trying to save the ball of yarn.

  I run up in a hurry and nearly fall on my ass as I slip and slide in the mud. “Izzy! What the hell?”

  She’s ignoring me and instead giving instructions to about fifteen other people who I have never seen before in my life. “…and then as soon as you hand out the food, make a list of anything else anybody needs. Ruby’s got us covered for coffee, but she can only make so many sandwiches. I’ve got the Outback in Gold Hill scheduled to cater dinner for our volunteers as well as for anybody else who needs food….”

  She’s going to ignore me calling her name? Then I’ll get her attention with my actions. Just like Ernestine said.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Izzy

  I forget what I was going to say because a sweaty, muddy, wild man and his long legs are eating up the distance between himself and me, staring me down like a side of bacon.

  “Danny? Are you okay? Oh!”

  When he reaches me, he makes it clear what he wants. With one hand clasping my face and the other one dragging me forward, he seems totally unaware of the crowd of people watching him.

  Guess we’re not gonna talk. Guess we’re gonna act like horny teenagers in public now.

  I can feel the heat pouring off of him even through my raincoat as he crushes me against him for a deep, soulful, claiming kiss that melts my panties and sets my ears buzzing.

  His lips claim me, not letting up, not backing off of this kiss even though I can feel everyone staring. Those lips are firm, though, and soon I forget. I begin to lose myself, forget where I am and where I’m from.

  When his tongue sneaks a taste of my lips, I gasp in delight and desire. Finally, he lets me up for air, but I don’t want any. On the other hand, I want to punch his lights out for ambushing me like that.

  “Isn’t that the loud lady from Gold Hill?” I hear someone say.

  “Yeah, the one with the attitude problem.”

  Danny’s eyes blaze, and he turns to face whoever it was who spoke those words.

  “Yes. This is Isabel Zepp from Gold Hill, and she brought food, blankets, and volunteers from her town to help us. Anybody got a problem with that?”

  If anyone does have a problem, they aren’t going to have any luck separating me from their town council person who has his arm locked so tight around my waist I’m afraid it might stay there. I might be okay with that.

  I see others, a few of them I recognize from their town council meetings at Ruby’s Diner, warily shake their heads. One by one, people of Fate approach to introduce themselves. Ruby from the diner recognizes me and my coffee addiction right away. Billie Jane, the one from the TV news segment, is also there. Even Flash—the golden retriever mayor—is there, wearing a vest with a sign that indicates he’s an emotional support dog for the day.

  My heart grows ten sizes.

  “I can’t believe you did all of this,” Danny says, pulling me away from the crowd that’s pretty much taken over to divide volunteer duties as they see fit.

  I sigh and turn to Danny as we tromp through the muck. “I can’t help it. I love an underdog story.”

  Without missing a beat, Danny replies, “I love you.”

  Not watching my footing, I reply with the words that everyone who’s ever declared their love wants to hear: “Oh shit!”

  “Izzy!”

  My feet fly out from under me, sliding in the mud, and I land ass down in a puddle.