Savannah's Secrets. Reese Ryan
carport as Blake instructed.
“Got everything you need from your car?” Blake removed his hood and opened her car door.
“You act as if I won’t see my car again anytime soon.”
“Depends on how long it takes the river to go down.”
“Seriously?” Savannah grabbed a few items from the middle console and shoved them in her bag before securing her vehicle. She followed Blake to the passenger side of his huge black truck.
She gasped, taken by surprise when Blake helped her up into the truck.
“I have a couple more things to check before we go. Sit tight. I’ll be back before you can miss me.”
Doubt it.
Blake shut her door and disappeared around the building.
Savannah waited for her heartbeat to slow down. She secured her seat belt and surveyed the interior of Blake’s pickup truck. The satellite radio was set to an old-school hip-hop channel. The truck was tricked out with all the toys. High-end luxury meets Bo and Luke Duke with a refined hip-hop sensibility.
Perfectly Blake.
A clean citrus scent wafted from the air vents. The black leather seats she was dripping all over were inlaid with a tan design.
A fierce gust of wind blew the rain sideways and swayed the large truck. Her much smaller car rocked violently, as if it might blow over.
Another blinding flash of lightning was quickly followed by a rumble of thunder. Savannah gritted her teeth.
She’d give anything to be home in bed with the covers pulled over her head.
Everything will be fine. Don’t freak out.
Savannah squeezed her eyes shut. Counted backward from ten, then forward again. When she opened them, Blake was spreading a yellow tarp over her small car.
Damn you, Blake Abbott.
She’d arrived in Magnolia Lake regarding every last one of the Abbotts as a villain. Blake’s insistence on behaving like a knight in shining armor while looking like black Thor made it difficult to maintain that position.
He was being kind and considerate, doing what nearly any man would under the circumstances. Particularly one who regarded himself a Southern gentleman.
That didn’t make him Gandhi.
And it sure as hell didn’t prove the Abbotts weren’t capable of cruelty. Especially when it came to their business.
But as he approached the truck, looking tall, handsome and delicious despite the rain, it was impossible not to like him.
Relax. It’s just a ride home.
The storm had Savannah on edge. Nothing a little shoo-fly punch wouldn’t soothe. She just needed to endure the next twenty minutes with Blake Abbott.
* * *
Blake stood outside the truck with the wind whipping against his back and his soaking-wet clothing sticking to his skin. He forced a stream of air through his nostrils.
Parker’s warning replayed in his head.
Don’t think of her that way. It’ll only get you into trouble.
He’d come back to the plant after dinner with his father to make sure everything was okay. But he’d also come back looking for her, worried she’d spent another night working late, not recognizing the dangers of a hard, long rain like this. Something any local would know.
He would have done this for any of his employees—male or female. But he wasn’t a convincing enough liar to persuade himself that what he was doing tonight...for her...wasn’t different. More personal.
Something about Savannah Carlisle roused a fiercely protective instinct.
Keep your shit together and your hands to yourself.
Blake took one more cleansing breath and released it, hoping his inappropriate thoughts about Savannah went right along with it.
When he yanked the door open, Savannah’s widened eyes met his. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself.
“You’re freezing.” Blake climbed inside the truck and turned on the heat to warm her, wishing he could take her in his arms. Transferring his body heat to hers would be a better use of the steam building under his collar. “Is that better?”
Savannah rubbed her hands together and blew on them. “Yes, thank you.”
Blake grabbed a jacket off the back seat and handed it to her. “Put this on.”
There was the briefest hesitance in her eyes before Savannah accepted the jacket with a grateful nod. It was heavy, and she struggled to put it on.
Blake helped her into it. Somehow, even that basic gesture felt too intimate.
“Let’s get you home.” Blake put the truck into gear and turned onto the road that led across the river and into town.
They traveled in comfortable silence. It was just as well. The low visibility created by the blowing rain required his complete focus.
They were almost there. Savannah’s apartment was just beyond the bridge and around the bend.
Shit.
They were greeted by a roadblock and yellow warning signs. The water had risen to the level of the bridge.
“There’s another way into town, right?” Savannah asked nervously.
Blake didn’t acknowledge the alarm in her brown eyes. If he didn’t panic, maybe she wouldn’t, either, when he broke the bad news. “That bridge is the only route between here and your place.”
“I can’t get home?” Her voice was shaky and its pitch rose.
“Not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. The bridge is in danger of washing out. I could possibly make it across in my truck, but the weight of this thing could compromise the bridge and send us downriver.”
“So what do I do for the next couple of days? Camp out in my office until the bridge is safe again?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Blake groaned internally. Savannah wasn’t going to like the alternative. “My house is up the hill a little ways back.”
“You think I’m staying at your house? Overnight?” She narrowed her gaze at him. As if he’d orchestrated the rain, her staying late and the bridge threatening to wash out.
“You don’t really have another choice, Savannah.” He studied her as she weighed the options.
She pulled the jacket around her tightly as she assessed the road in front of them, then the road behind them. “Seems I don’t have much of a choice.”
A knot tightened in the pit of Blake’s stomach. He’d hoped that she would be stubborn enough to insist on returning to the office. That he wouldn’t be tortured by Savannah Carlisle being off-limits and sleeping under his roof.
“Okay then.” He shifted the truck into Reverse, turned around and headed back to the narrow road that led to the exclusive community where he and Zora owned homes.
As they ascended the hill, the handful of houses around the lake came into view. A bolt of lightning arced in the sky.
Savannah flinched once, then again at the deafening thunder. She was trying to play it cool, but her hands were clenched into fists. She probably had nail prints on her palms.
Why was she so frightened by the storm?
He wanted to know, but the question felt too personal. And everything about Savannah Carlisle indicated she didn’t do personal. She kept people at a safe distance.
She’d politely refused every social invitation extended to her since she’d joined the company. Some of his employees