exploded and he felt the gentle, insistent pressure as she pushed at his chest.
And he knew she was right. It was neither the time nor the place to get too carried away. He lifted his head and looked down at her flushed cheeks and tempting, kiss—swollen lips and again he had that weird, déjà vu feeling he’d been having since he saw her at the table with Brody. He gave her a smile and whispered her name. “Lori…”
“Oh, Tucker,” she murmured, looking sweet and bewildered and adorably unsure. “If only…”
A hard gust of wind brought a spray of rain and hail slanting onto the veranda. It spattered the boards at their feet and stained the hem of her dress a darker pink.
He swore at his own idiocy and grabbed her hand. “I was nuts to bring you out in this. We should get the hell inside.” He started to turn.
But she held on, tugged him back. “No. Listen, I—”
“Tucker!” It was Tate’s voice, from behind him. Tucker cast a glance over his shoulder. His brother was braced in the half-open door to the ballroom. “Damn it to Hell. There you are!” His usually tanned face had a grayish cast.
Tucker turned. “What’s up?”
“We got a call. We’re under a tornado warning. Clouds boiling up to the south, behind the clubhouse. Things don’t look good. It’s time to head for the cellar.”
Chapter Seven
“Listen.” Lori motioned for silence and huddled closer to Tucker. “Do you hear it?”
Tucker did—in the distance to the north, beyond the wind-tossed oaks that lined the wide front driveway. The storm siren in town had gone off.
Lori’s face went dead white. “Oh, God. Brody…”
“Settle down,” Tate advised. “So far, it’s just a warning. But we’d better not fool around with it. Come on, let’s go.” Tate held the door for them and they ducked inside, where the ballroom was empty except for the tight line of silent, frightened-looking people snaking out from the braced-open double doors to the kitchen.
The club’s manager hovered at the back of the line, herding everyone forward. At the opposite end of the room, up on the stage, Lena’s wedding cake waited, alone in a spotlight, surrounded by band equipment.
Lori demanded, “Tate. Please. Brody—have you seen him?”
Tate had already rushed past them. He sent her a bleak look back over his shoulder, but he didn’t break stride. “Sorry. I haven’t. But we tried to send the kids down first. Come on. Get in the line.”
“We have to find Brody,” Lori insisted. “Brody!” she called, pulling her hand free of Tucker’s, racing for the stage, as if the boy might be hiding up there, behind that big cake. When no answer came, she paused, pink skirts swaying and put her hands to her face. “Oh, God. Oh, God…”
Tucker caught up with her. “Lori.” He took her by the shoulders, turned her to face him.
“No. No…” She shoved at his chest. “Let me go.”
He held on. “Steady. Don’t panic. Tate said he’s probably safe in the basement.” She stared at him, terrified, her slim body shaking. He grabbed her hand again. “Come on. We’ll find out where he is.”
She let him lead her. They edged through the door to the kitchen. He apologized as they went, reassuring the worried guests who’d been waiting their turn in line that they weren’t trying to cut ahead.
Beyond the doors, amid the steel counters and industrial-sized appliances, Molly, Dirk and Heck had taken charge of the crowd.
“That’s right, folks,” said Molly, at the head of the line, near the inside wall where a door opened onto cellar steps. “Keep it calm and keep it moving.”
“Easy,” Dirk added. “There’s room for everyone.”
“Two at a time, now,” Heck instructed. “No need to push.”
One of the guests cried, “But there’re hundreds of us!”
Another demanded, “Yeah. How can you say there’ll be room?”
“No problem.” Tate, who’d taken a station between Dirk and Molly, spoke up. “I’ve been down there. The cellar’s as big as the ballroom. Lots of storage, several rooms. Plenty of space. Room for everyone…”
It looked to Tucker as if they had maybe two-thirds of the guests below ground already. The line was moving amazingly fast—because the club’s manager, and Molly, Heck, Dirk and now Tate, as well, were keeping everyone calm and moving forward.
Lori pulled her hand free of Tucker’s grip and rushed to her father. “Daddy, did Brody already go down there?”
Heck frowned. “I thought he was with you…”
“Mama? Lena?”
Heck looked ahead, to the front of the line. “They’ve gone on downstairs.”
Lori spun on her heel and dashed over to Molly. “Did you see Brody go down there?”
Molly continued to wave the line of guests forward as she shook her head. “No. I don’t think I’ve seen him. I could have missed him, but I’ve been watching for the kids I know…”
Right then, the lights flickered and went out. A collective gasp rose up from the people in the ever-shortening line. Shadows engulfed them, though gray light still bled through from the open doors to the ballroom.
Someone let out a low, terrified whimper. “It’s happening. It’s coming…”
Tate said, “It’s okay, folks. There’s enough light to see by. Just keep moving, nice and steady…” The line had cleared the door to the ballroom. In no time at all, they’d have everyone down the stairs.
“Oh, God…” Lori whirled for the other set of double doors, the ones that led out to the dining room.
Heck called, “Lori—girl. Wait. You’ve got to get—”
She didn’t break stride. “I’ve got to find Brody…”
Heck started to follow her. “Lori!”
Tucker slid in front of him. “Watch the line. They need you. I’ll look after her.”
“My grandson. Dear God. We have to—”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find him.” He said it with a lot more certainty than he felt. Damn. Who could say where the boy was now? He could already be safe underground.
But there was no stopping Lori. She was moving and moving fast. Tucker rushed to catch up with her, not waiting to hear Heck’s reply.
She raced around a jut of steel counter, headed for the dining room doors. When she got there,
