Free The Trouble with Andrew by Heather Graham Page A

that?”
    â€œJean, shorts, T-shirt. The drawers were fine. The closet is soaked. The plaster is all caving in there.”
    â€œGrab some sneakers out of it anyway. We’ll have to find some way to rinse them out for you to wear until we can buy some. If and when we find a store that can open!” she added.
    â€œRight. I have a duffel bag. Should I pack it?”
    â€œYep, sounds good.”
    Jordan left her. She started to dig through her belongings.
    Her nightstand had been whipped across the room. Her drawers—the top one odds and ends, the bottom one underwear—had broken out, and her books and notes, pens, papers, calendar and letters were all in wet muddy piles near the closet.
    Undies, bras, slips and camisoles were strewn about, a negligee on the lamp on her main dresser, several pairs of panties at the foot of the bed. She squished through the carpeting in Midge’s loafers and tried to collect what pieces were dry and in good shape.
    She was just reaching for a black bra that hung on her downed curtain rod when she heard a throat being cleared.
    Drew Cunningham was back. Looking absurdly handsome for a damp man covered in plaster and palm fronds, he grinned, his fingers on a pair of red silk panties. He tossed them across the room to Katie. “Those look good.”
    She caught them.
    â€œAre you done helping humanity already?” she asked him.
    He sobered, the amusement in his eyes quickly gone. “Humanity, here, won’t be helped for a long time. We’ve cleared the circle—it can be driven now, though I don’t know what’s beyond it. I’ve made some calls, and we’ll have trucks out here tomorrow to start hauling away some of the heavy refuse. Florida Power and Light has already been out working, and aid seems to be pouring in from all over. But if you haven’t noticed, it’s almost dark. And we’re under a curfew—most of the businesses down south on the highway were destroyed, and the thieves moved in right away. Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but you haven’t eaten all day.”
    Eaten! She hadn’t even had a drink. And she had a little boy. One who hadn’t complained once today about anything.
    â€œAren’t you thirsty?” Drew asked her. He smiled again, slipping a beige camisole from the corner of a broken drawer and tossed it to her.
    She caught the camisole, staring at him, realizing that her throat was very dry and that her stomach was rumbling.
    She calmly folded the camisole and added it to her stack of things. “What are you suggesting?” she asked sweetly. “Should we send out for pizza?”
    â€œNo, we need to go to my house and cook some food that is quickly unfreezing,” he told her. He shrugged. “Well, we’ll have some nice room-temperature red wine to go with our steaks and Spaghettios!”
    She found herself smiling, even when he discovered a forest green wraparound nightgown, sheer, soft and still silky. She started to take it from him. He held tight for a moment.
    â€œPretty piece,” he teased.
    She swept it from his hand. “Thanks.”
    â€œIs that all you’ve managed to salvage?” he asked, looking at the pile of undergarments on her bed. “If so, you’re going to make for an interesting neighbor. Housemate, actually.”
    â€œOh, I don’t know,” she managed to say smoothly. “You do seem to be a connoisseur, so I imagine that you’ve had your fair share of women walking around in such garments.”
    He smiled, shrugged and lifted his hands. “Just what is a fair share?” he asked.
    More than I’ve had, Katie thought, but she was determined she could play this sexual game casually and with nonchalance.
    â€œMore than you probably deserve,” she assured him.
    â€œHow do you know what I deserve?”
    â€œI’m just thinking about that poor lovely woman who was so concerned about