I would offer other beverages, but I don’t like his color. He looks feverish and needs to be off his feet.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Sit.” I point in the direction of our living room. It holds a saggy old couch and a TV that still has a tube instead of the sleek LCDs.
“Yes, ma’am.” He salutes me and heads toward the living room.
I walk into the kitchen and heat the water. When the teakettle begins to whistle, I pour the boiling water over the tea bags then set the kettle back on the stove. Turning, I nearly land in Tyler’s arms. The sun shines through the kitchen window and casts a shadow across his face.
He places one hand on the counter and one on the cool portion of the stovetop, neatly trapping me in the corner. My heart pounds. I lift my chin and ask in what I hope is a cool voice, “What are you doing?”
“When I was in the water, a beautiful young woman rescued me. What do you know about that?”
“Maybe you hallucinated. That doesn’t sound possible, especially in that storm.”
“My sister told me you called continually trying to get hold of me to tell me not to go out. You knew a storm was coming before anyone else, even the weather station. How?”
I had an answer for that one. “Gramps’ knee. It always acts up when bad weather’s coming.”
“I’ll give you that one. But how did I get to shore?”
“How should I know?”
“Oh, I think you know all right. And I know how to prove it,” he murmurs, his lips a breath away from mine.
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