“You sure you wanna drive in this? It’s looking pretty scary out there.”

At the receptionist’s words, Thiessen Ward took a quick glance out the window. His stomach immediately flipped upside down at the sight of the angry gray clouds that churned in the sky, threatening to let loose with a downpour any minute now. Heavy winds snagged at the branches outside the small doctor’s office, making the entire line of trees sway in play.

He set his jaw and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. No, he didn’t want to drive in this, thank you very much, but he wanted to go home, to the safety his big house provided. He highly doubted the little building on the car-cluttered side street had any sort of emergency shelter. Hell, he didn’t even think it had a basement.

“I need to get home,” he muttered, more to himself than to the woman in the blue scrubs who was now peering worriedly out the window. If he was lucky, he could make it home before the worst of it hit.

As he thought the words, the radio station playing on the overhead speakers began to blare a severe thunder storm warning. Anxiety all but climbed up his throat to strangle him with fear. Shaking his head, he made a beeline for the door. He grabbed the handle to throw it open, only to have it yanked out of his hand by a heavy gust.

“Please be careful!” the woman called after him, but anything else she might’ve said was lost to the roar of the wind battering his ears. He yanked his jacket hood up over his head and hurried down the wheelchair ramp, hobbling his way across the parking lot to his red sedan. He fumbled with the keys in his pocket and punched the unlock button on his keyfob. His headlights flashed in reply.

“Just get home,” Thiessen chanted to himself when the sky began to spit rain. He flipped the windshield wipers on and peeled out of the lot, driving like a madman. Fuck it. He only had to make it seven miles. He could make it seven miles. He inhaled sharply. “Just get home. It’ll be fine.”

Only it wasn’t fine. He’d only just turned off the highway and onto a county line road when thunder snarled viciously from above. It rumbled through his bones hard enough to make him tremble. His fingers tightened over the steering wheel till his knuckles turned white. Lightning split the sky. Half a second later, rain pelted down so hard that he couldn’t see anything.

“Fuck!” He cranked the wipers on high, their mechanical whine drowned out by the deluge, but they couldn’t keep up with the rain. His breath came out short and fast and he squinted, trying to see the yellow lines on the road through the blurry windshield. The wind buffeted against his car so badly he had to fight the wheel to drive in a straight line.

Thunder boomed and he yelped out, clinging to the steering wheel for dear life. He couldn’t see! He couldn’t even tell if he was on the road anymore. Dread knotted at the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t have set out. He should’ve listened to reason. For as idyllic as Sundog Park was, the town seemed to be a damn tornado magnet in the spring.

The rain pummeled his car in unforgiving sheets, blinding him to the dark clouds swirling above. With a hiss, he pulled over to what he hoped was the side of the road and put the car in park. He punched the hazard light button, then dropped his forehead to rest against the cool leather of the steering wheel.

He pinched his eyes tightly closed and tried to calm himself down. Breathe. Just breathe. It’ll let up—it has to. He jumped again when a flash of lightning lit up the town like a firework. He swallowed down the bile that was creeping up his throat. Just breathe. It’ll all be over soon.

He couldn’t have been further from the truth.

One minute, his car was idling on the side of the road and the next, he was thrown to the side with a screech of metal and an explosion of glass. His car shuddered hard and spun across the rain-slick street, wheels squealing over pavement. Thiessen opened his mouth to scream only for the airbag to go off, smothering his cries as his car finally tumbled to a halt.

The tinkle of shattered glass and the patter of rain made Thiessen peel his eyes open. “Shit…” He hung suspended by the seatbelt; it bit welts into his neck and shoulder. He lifted his aching head to look around, only to realize he was nose-down in a ditch that was slowly filling with muddy water. For a moment, he hung there in a daze. His head was still spinning and now the back of his skull was throbbing out each beat of his heart.

Then fear kicked in and he began to struggle. His hand clawed at the seatbelt button, pushing it in as hard as he could. When it released, he fell forward onto the steering wheel hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. He groaned and reached for his phone to find his pockets empty. That’s right, he’d set it down in the cup holder. Shit, shit, shit. He fumbled around, but couldn’t find it—which meant he was stranded.

What now? What did he do now? He wasn’t even sure where he was, where he’d gone off the road at. Had someone hit him? He climbed over the steering wheel on his hands and knees, feeling the bite of the broken glass crunching beneath him. Escaping the vehicle, he splashed into the ice-cold water. It soaked his clothes as he climbed up the mud-slick side of the ditch.

He staggered to his feet on the side of the road. His cut-up hands stung. Rain poured down all around him to wick away the grime and blood on his skin. He glanced around, to try and find a landmark he might recognize, but he was surrounded by fields. He dragged in uneven breaths, one hand clapped over his chest. His lungs felt tight, like no matter what he did, he couldn’t suck in enough air.

He didn’t see another vehicle. Besides his car laying in the ditch, there was no one else around. So they hit him and kept on driving? Bastards. People were bastards. He hunched his shoulders and tried to keep from losing it, but he was soaked to the bone and cold, plus he could feel the wet chafing of his prosthetic rubbing against his skin. He began to shiver.

In the distance, the thunder rumbled its farewell and took its storm clouds with it. Utterly exhausted, Thiessen dropped to his knees on the side of the road. Someone would drive past eventually, right? Peri would realize he was missing, that he wasn’t answering his phone. She’d hunt him down. He just had to wait. He wrapped both arms around himself and let out an aching sob.

After what seemed like forever, too-bright headlights swamped over him. Thiessen could’ve jumped for joy. He staggered to his feet, his leg aching something awful, and held up his hand to shield his eyes from the light. The sleek black SUV rolled to a stop in front of him and the driver’s side door swung open. Honestly, at this point, he didn’t care if it was an axe murderer, so long as the guy was willing to take him home.

It definitely wasn’t an axe murderer.

The man that got out of the truck was fucking gorgeous. Taller than his own nearly-six foot frame, the man practically dwarfed him, big and broad-shouldered and built like a truck. His black hair was slicked back away from his face like he’d just escaped the rain himself and his dark eyes seemed to study him.

Thiessen’s gaze was drawn to the muscles bulging in his arms—and the spiraling, stark-black ink of a tribal sleeve that disappeared beneath the sleeve of the man’s shirt. His throat grew a little tighter at the same time his pants did. He didn’t date, not anymore, but his sex drive was apparently still functioning at one-hundred percent. Damn. The man was a god.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Y-Yeah. Wait, no. I…” He fumbled over the words and cursed himself. He scowled. “Some asshole hit me, knocked me off the road. F-Fucker.” His teeth were chattering against his will, the chill setting into his bones to bury in deep. He couldn’t stop shivering. “I-Is there any way you could d-drop me off somewhere?”

His savior frowned. “You’re bleeding. I’ll drive you to the hospital—”

“No!” The word burst from him in an explosion of pure panic. Shaking his head, he backed away. “I’m fine. I-I don’t want to go to the ER. I want to go home.” He hated how damn weak he sounded, whiny and pathetic as he stood there on the side of the road, looking like a drowned rat. Of course. He couldn’t have been picked up by some portly old lady—it had to be the sexiest guy he’d ever seen in his life.

“Easy,” the man murmured, raising both hands in a show of peace. “Okay. C’mon. I’ll take you home, but let’s get out of the rain, okay?” He waved towards his vehicle. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

Why did he have to be so nice? Thiessen felt the fight seep out of him. Dropping his head, he followed the stranger and climbed in on the passenger side with a grimace. His clothing squelched when he sat down, soaking the upholstery. “S-Sorry. I’m getting your seats wet.”

“It’s fine. I’d rather you be safe and warm. The seats will dry, trust me.” He flashed a charming smile that dimpled up at one corner. Thiessen could’ve groaned. Instead, he rested his temple against the cool glass and closed his eyes against the blast of heat that rolled out from the vents. “Where are we going?” the man asked.

Thiessen swallowed, his throat sore. “My friend’s place. 992 Elm. Please.” Peri would freak out when she couldn’t get ahold of him and without a car or a phone, he wouldn’t get too far. She’d take care of him. She always did. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was take a hot shower and curl up in bed with a book and just drift away. He was exhausted, strung out and tense.

Thankfully, the man didn’t try to carry on a conversation. Thiessen wasn’t the most talkative person on a good day. Right now, he wanted to hole up and be left alone. There was a reason people around Sundog Park called him a hermit.

It wasn’t long before they rolled up Peri’s gravel driveway. Thiessen sat up, hissing at the stab of pain in his neck, and his savior leaned closer. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, concern written all over his handsome face.

Thiessen quickly nodded, his pulse speeding up at the sudden nearness. The rich scent of his savior’s cologne was like a drug, begging him to take a hit—and for the first time in years, he was tempted. He needed to get the hell out of here. His mind was already spinning ideas like spider’s silk, because this man was the epitome of a romance novel hero. Saving damsels in distress, even. Thiessen bit back a sigh.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” Reaching over, he pushed the door open and gingerly stepped out of the SUV, landing in a puddle of murky brown water. Damn it. He hesitated for only a moment before turning his back on the Greek god. He hurried up the crooked front steps of Peri’s porch and jabbed the doorbell with one finger.

The moment Peri opened the door, she did a double take and gaped at him. “Thiessen? What the hell happened to you?” She leaned out the doorway, staring past him to the sexy man and his equally sexy SUV. “Where’s your car? Are you okay? Did you get into a wreck? Oh god, do you need me to take you to the—”

“I’m fine,” he growled, pushing past her and into the warmth of the house. His heart was racing now, pattering wildly, try as he might to calm himself down.

Peri slammed the door shut and came after him, grabbing his arm to pull him back. When he spun around, he found her big brown eyes glittering with worry. She pinched her lip between her teeth and reached up to touch his face. “You’re bleeding, Thee.”

“I’m fine.” He sounded a little less certain this time though. “I… I’ll be fine. I need to clean up. Could you run my clothes through the wash?” Looking down at himself, he realized he wasn’t just soaked to the bone, he was covered in chalky mud as well. His shoes had left tracks all over Peri’s linoleum floors. His shoulders drooped.

“Of course, always. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you.” She nodded her head firmly, her mind made up, and Thiessen smiled despite himself. That was just who Peri was.

“I owe you one,” he murmured.

She scoffed. “Yeah—you owe me all the deets, but we’ll save it for later. Go get warmed up and I’ll bring you a blanket to wrap up in until your clothes are dry.”

Thiessen closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

The low, grumbling growl of thunder rattled Thiessen’s windows in their panes. In an instant, he was wide awake, shoving the covers back to sit up in bed. Breathing hard, he wiped sweat from his brow, his heart beating unpredictably fast, but this time it wasn’t from the storm.

It was from the dream.

He inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. The touch of his dream-lover lingered on his skin as if the god of a man had truly been lying in bed beside him; as if he’d stroked his wide palm down Thiessen’s chest, letting his fingers trail through the sparse spattering of hair that disappeared below the waistband of his boxers. And with that damnable dimpled smile…

Thiessen groaned and flopped onto his back, his cheek resting against the damp pillowcase.

This wasn’t the first time he’d dreamed of the man, but this time the dream was so much more vivid. He could feel every whisper-soft kiss and even tasted the spearmint hint of gum on his tongue when their mouths explored one other—and damn, could his dream guy kiss. He wanted to curse his wayward savior for waltzing through his dreams without permission, but they were ten times better than the nightmares that often plagued him.

The sound of rain plinking against the glass made Thiessen sit back up again. The electricity in the air rippled across his skin, making the hairs on the backs of his arms stand up. Kicking off the sheets, he threw his leg over the side of the bed and reached for the crutch that leaned against the bedside table. He tucked the shoulder rest beneath his armpit and stood, then hobbled his way down the hall, flipping lights on as he went.

It wasn’t like he’d get any sleep now. He might as well do something about it.

Lightning lit up the skies outside and a moment later, a blur of brown fur with a bottlebrush tail went galloping across the room to dive behind the sofa. “It’s okay, Dusty,” he reassured the skittish cat.

The grizzled old tabby had been a stray for who knew how long before he came into Thiessen’s life. No one at the shelter knew how old he was, exactly, but the vet he took him to considered him to be a senior. With patches of fur missing where scars littered his scrawny frame, a notched ear and one eyeball, Dustfeather had needed someone like Thiessen. Someone who’d been through hell and back, someone who could understand that oftentimes desperate need to be left alone.

As it turned out, neither of them were very affectionate and both of them sought out the silence of solitude, so it worked out okay. They had their good days, though not typically during tornado season. Thiessen didn’t blame him one bit. He was over it and ready for summer.

From somewhere beneath the furniture, Dustfeather let out a muffled yowl, telling Thiessen exactly what he thought of this bullshit weather. That made two of them. “I don’t like it much either, Bub.”

Leaving the cat to wait out the storm alone, Thiessen nudged open the door to his study and eased down onto his leather office chair. This weather always made his bones ache. He reached and rubbed his palm over the scarred stub of his right leg. It had been lopped off right above the knee, but sometimes, especially on nights like tonight, he could feel the ache in his shattered kneecap as if his leg was still attached. There was something to be said for phantom pain.

He shook his head, shaking off the darkening thoughts that stalked him like vultures, waiting patiently for the kill. He grabbed a blanket off the corner of his large desk and tossed it over his lap to keep warm, then popped the lid of his laptop open to boot it up.

Time to get some work done.

Writer’s block was a bitch in general, but with a deadline looming over his head? His creativity had plummeted. He’d been blocked for weeks now. Writing even two hundred words was like pulling teeth without anesthetic, and half the time he edited them out in the end. He’d been going nowhere fast on this book, the supposed sequel to his runaway bestselling romance novel, Save Me.

Until that dark-eyed Greek god scooped his sopping wet ass up off the street. All he had to do was smile at him and boom, instant muse. It was as if inspiration had been injected straight into a vein. The moment he’d gotten home that day, he felt the itch. He made a beeline for his computer and, opening a brand new file, he started Rescue Me from scratch.

It took wing immediately.

The words flew from his mind faster than his fingertips could keep up with. He didn’t sleep more than a couple of hours, and only then because he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Then he was at it again, bright and early. Within three days, he’d surpassed the measly sixty pages he’d been languishing over for months, and he just kept going.

It felt so good. Cathartic, in a way.

Closing his eyes against the wind and the rain beating mercilessly at the windows, Thiessen gathered up the threads of the already-fading dream and began to pour his heart and soul onto the page. His fingers clacked over the keyboard with its letters worn off. So long as he could focus all of his energy on writing, he’d be able to ignore the storm. For a little while anyway.

A deep peal of thunder shook him to the bone. He felt it reverberate inside of his chest, expanding outwards, and he gasped out a breath. His fingers formed fists, hovering over the keyboard. He glanced out the window to see the trees at the edge of his property sway and bend, but it wasn’t until the lights flickered that his anxiety jackhammered. He quickly saved the document and shut down the computer.

“Damn it!” With a loud chirp from the fire detectors, the lights popped. He was draped in darkness so thick it was almost suffocating. He listened to the rapid thud of his heart and the quiver to his breaths, but he didn’t move an inch. Once his eyes had adjusted to the pitch blackness that swallowed him whole, he snagged the crutch and hauled himself to his feet.

“Okay, Thiessen. Get your ass back in bed before you trip and fall.” He swung the door open just in time to hear his cellphone going off from down the hall. He knew that ringtone. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

He collapsed back into bed and yanked the sheets up over himself. He leaned over and pulled the little drawer open, fumbling around until he felt the cool glass of a little bottle. He gave it a few quick shakes, then unscrewed the cap and filled the dropper. The fresh minty-lavender taste of the essential oils hit his tongue, drop by drop. Breathe, he chanted to himself. Relax.

Grabbing his phone off the charger dock, he swiped his thumb across the screen to see Peri’s number on his missed calls list. He settled back into a cocoon made of pillows and blankets and once he was comfortable, he called her back. It rang only once before her worried voice piped into his ear.

“Hey. You okay?” She knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. Thiessen was thankful to have a friend like Peri in his life. It took someone special to move across the states with you on a whim to escape a toxic environment. When they decided to make the move to Sundog Park, they didn’t know anyone except for Peri’s estranged Uncle Rob, but she’d refused to let him move away by himself.

“I’m okay,” he said softly, hating the way his voice shook at the end.

She wasn’t convinced. “You sure? Pretty sure we’re through the worst of it, according to the radar.” Thank god.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I lost power, but I’m safe and sound in bed and I’m not getting up again till morning.”

“Aw, Thee. You’ve been up? You should’ve called me.” She clucked her tongue at him, which made him smile. “You know I’m here if you need me. I’m an A+ distraction, after all.”

“Of course I know that, but I had a…dream and I needed to get the words out before they disappeared into the ether, as dreams often do.”

“Oooooh.” She giggled. “A dream, huh? Must’ve been pretty naughty for you to write it in one of your books. Did it happen to revolve around a certain swoony savior, by chance?” Damn it, she knew him too well. Thiessen scowled and opened his mouth to reply, but she sighed almost dreamily into the speaker. “He must’ve been some guy for you to be dreaming about him, huh? Did you get his name?”

“No.” And he’d cursed himself a few times for it, too. Not that she needed to know that.

“Well, poop. Did you check Grindr? Maybe he lives in Sundog Park? Oh, I know! We could go on a manhunt, poke around town and see if—”

His chest tightened at the thought. “Peri! God, no. No, we are not looking for this guy! No. End of discussion.”

He was pretty sure that he’d blown his first impression, seeing as he’d been an anxious, sopping wet mess. Even if he hadn’t, that man was so far out of his league that it wasn’t funny. He was ripped muscles and tattooed glory and a sweet but sinful smile. Thiessen was a scrawny emo-kid with missing parts. He was defective. The truth of it was bitter.

Guess he’d have to be happy with his dreams, huh?

“But Thee—”

“No. Please, can we drop it? Please?” He blew out a sigh. “C’mon, Peri, you know me. Forever alone. That’s just the way it is. Even if we did find him, I promise you he wouldn’t look twice at a guy like me. I’m damaged goods and we both know it. Besides, I’m not ready to consider opening my heart to another man.” Let alone his body, even if his body really liked that idea. The traitor.

“I know.” She sounded all dejected and Thiessen felt like a jerk. “I’m just…trying, you know? I want you to be happy, Thee. I want you to smile again, like you used to. I know you don’t think you’re worth a dime, but you don’t see what I see. I wish you did. I worry so much about you.”

“I’m sorry.” He knew it wasn’t her intent, but he felt a stab of guilt nonetheless. “I’m not ready, though. Not yet, but I’m getting there. I mean, sexy dreams are a good sign, right?”

They were a sign that he was moving on. In the four long years since he’d lost Bo, he hadn’t so much as looked at another guy twice, and now he was having dreams about some stranger he’d likely never see again in his life. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Was he finally letting the memory of Bo go free? Because it kind of hurt.

“It is a good sign,” Peri agreed. “I’m just glad your muse is alive and kicking again. You’re always so freaking moody when you’re blocked. Like emotional constipation, yo.”

Thiessen chuckled at that. “Not a bad analogy.”

“Write like the wind and don’t look back. I know this book will be even better than Save Me and you know how I feel about that one! I’m telling you, I was a gay man in a past life. I love it.” She giggled, then yawned. “Okay, Thee. I’m getting sleepy, so I’m gonna let you go. Are you gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” His oils were starting to take effect. He could feel his tense muscles relaxing little by little. “I think sleep sounds like a good idea. Text me tomorrow, brat.”

“Always,” she promised, smooching loudly into the phone. “Night, babe.”

“Night, Peri.”

The line clicked dead and for a long moment, he listened to the grating beep-beep of the busy signal. He ended the call and reset his alarm, then set the phone back on its cradle before snuggling down into the covers. The warmth and the darkness surrounded him, wrapping him up in strong arms, and the now-gentle patter of rain on the glass was almost a lullaby.

It didn’t stop the ache from settling into his chest, though. The faded, painful memories of that night flooded his mind and Thiessen knew he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.