Free The Trouble with Andrew by Heather Graham Page B

you earlier today. Remember her? When she finished speaking to you, I distinctly heard you say, ‘I love you, too.’”
    â€œHmm. You do pay attention,” he told her.
    She shrugged, trying to make a neat pile of her things. “I didn’t have much choice. You more or less dragged me back across the street.”
    â€œI protest. I didn’t lay a hand on you.”
    â€œI protest. You most certainly did.”
    â€œOnly in the house. This house. And only to try to keep you from getting hurt.”
    â€œYou were—most noble,” she assured him quickly. “And still,” she murmured, feeling a flush coming to her cheeks again, no matter what her determinations, “I’m wondering if I ought to be sleeping in the Holloways’ weight room.”
    â€œJordan can have his own room at my house with a Nintendo and the works,” he reminded her. Serious again, he added, “And I told you. If you’re uncomfortable, I can go somewhere else.”
    â€œDon’t be absurd. I couldn’t let you leave your home.”
    â€œOh, but you could,” he said, and he sounded weary and somewhat bitter again.
    â€œAll right,” she said frowning. “I wouldn’t. But I would appreciate it if you would refrain—”
    â€œFrom handling your clothing?”
    She sighed. “Would you see if I have anything decent in my closet?” she asked him.
    The door had blown away. He stepped into the huge walk-in closet, then stepped out.
    â€œHalf and half,” he told her. “North wall drenched, south wall all right. Your suitcases are a disaster. Got any garbage bags?”
    â€œYes. Well, I did. If they didn’t blow away.”
    Jordan had come to the door. “I’ll try the kitchen!” he offered cheerfully.
    A moment later, he was back. The toaster was gone, so was the coffee machine. But the paper plates, cups, napkins and garbage bags were just fine.
    The three of them set to work packing her things to take them over to Drew’s. Katie’s stomach began to grumble. “We should give this up for now.”
    â€œIn a minute,” Drew told her. “It could rain again,” he explained when she looked at him. “Let’s get what we can.”
    They did, making several trips across the circle. The Holloways saw them and came out to help.
    Darkness had fallen when they finished. They bid the Holloways good-night, then started lighting candles in Drew’s living room.
    He produced a gallon jug of water that they half emptied almost immediately.
    When everyone’s thirst was slaked, Drew looked at Katie across the rim of the water bottle. “It really is steak and Spaghettios. Want to turn the meat over the Sterno or check out the refrigerator for vegetables and fruit?”
    â€œI’ll take the steaks,” Katie said.
    They moved into the kitchen, bringing the little television with them. They were in the middle of the disaster, and naturally, they were interested in every word about the storm and its aftermath.
    Katie got the Sterno going on the corner of the island in the kitchen. The house was beautifully designed, with more custom touches than her own. The kitchen was equipped with everything from a subzero freezer to wonderful cherry and glass built-in cabinets. Though the kitchen was expansive, it seemed very warm and intimate in the candlelight.
    Jordan set the table, Drew made a salad. He hadn’t lost his water, but he used bottled water to wash the lettuce. The news reporter had warned that the water had been contaminated.
    â€œAt least it will be fine to shower in,” Drew murmured.
    â€œAnd we do need showers again,” Katie agreed. Maybe they should have showered first—they were both a bit wild looking, half damp, half plastered. But by now, hunger was the driving force.
    â€œCold showers,” Drew said.
    â€œCold will feel great!” Jordan told them.