Chapter 10
They worked efficiently together, scarily so. Poppy figured the chemistry that had almost had them fucking like dogs twice so far worked well for other physical tasks like moving furniture and belongings upstairs. Brandon carried the heavier items while she ran up and down the stairs with other items from the floor that weren’t too heavy. They got most of the furniture up the stairs together. She let Brandon guide her hand placement on how to edge the large chairs and sofa around the wainscoted stairwell and hallways without crushing her fingers.
“The larger sofa is too big for us to get upstairs.” Brandon spoke without a hint of the breathlessness she felt after they set down a big recliner on the stair landing. “I’ll prop it on its side and shove it up as many steps as I can, but that’s as far as it will go.”
Poppy nodded. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and the flood won’t come this high.” As the rain continued to batter the roof and sides of the charming house, she was resigned to the fact that indeed, Henry and Sonja’s house was going to flood.
Poppy wondered if the heavens knew about the failed wedding. Did angels throw self-pity parties? She doubted it.
Brandon eyed her luggage, which they’d brought into the house with them. “Take what you absolutely need for the next week or so and put it in this bag. Your suitcases are too heavy and they’ll get soaked.” Brandon held a white plastic kitchen garbage bag out. “I’ve got clothes you can borrow, and you can do laundry. Focus on any prescriptions, what you need with you to be able to work. Worst case you can always use one of my computers.”
Poppy took the bag, careful to avoid touching his fingers. Their short work of Henry and Sonja’s furnishings had forced a sweat from both of them and Brandon’s was all tangy male, sexy and dangerously spicy. At least he was warm and not freezing as she’d be if she hadn’t showered.
“So you’re telling me we’re going to paddle to your house in this downpour? The grocery clerk told me to try to find a canoe in case I had to escape.” The skies had grown darker and they’d turned the lights on throughout the house. The bulbs flickered on and off as the power ominously fluctuated.
“We’re going to take Henry’s flat-bottom boat. I made it, so I know how it’ll handle the water.”
“I didn’t know Henry had a boat.” She shoved her headache meds and toothbrush into the bag, along with most of the contents of her backpack. “You’re sure this will keep my laptop dry?”
“It’ll have to, won’t it?” He said it like a statement, underscoring the direness of their circumstance.
“Excuse me if I’m not used to swimming my way out of storms.” She stood up and blew a stray lock out of her eyes. Brandon didn’t miss the gesture from the way his eyes narrowed on her lips. She shrugged. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound like such a spoiled little bitch. I’m used to having to stock up for a snowstorm, and when the wind’s blowing the snow sideways in Buffalo I know not to go out. We get some major storms in New York City, too. But this, this is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I half expect Noah’s Ark to show up on the dock.” She looked where she motioned her thumb, out the French doors toward the backyard and deck where only a little more than a week earlier the wedding party had enjoyed pre-festivity cocktails. Shock shook through her at the sight of water covering all but the last few steps up to the main deck that was adjoined to the house. “Holy hell, it is the Great Flood.”
“And we have the perfect ark for it. Come on, let’s go. Wear this.” He tossed her a rain slicker and looked at her feet. “Sonja’s got to have waders in the garage.”
She followed him through the kitchen entry to the garage. Sonja’s car sat alone in the double-vehicle room, still dripping.
“When did you pull this in?”
“While you were showering.”
She’d never noticed it when they’d driven out in the truck.
“Here, try these.” He handed her a pair of flowered rubber boots. She took the waders and stepped into them.
“They’re roomy but they’ll do. Where’s the boat?”
“Around back. We’re going to have to work together to get it to the water, but at least that’s not going to be very far today.” He took a larger, man-sized slicker off a hook and shrugged into it. The drab olive, rubber slicker would look silly if not practical on anyone else. On Brandon, it looked classic.
“Stop staring, Yankee, and get ready to push, pull, and heave this boat into the river.” He opened a door to the outside and they faced Henry’s boat. Brandon quickly removed the tarp over it before he took the brakes off the hitch and began to roll the boat down a cement ramp.
“I had no idea this boat was here.” And she hadn’t noticed the boat ramp that was built into the side piece of property, angling down to the river. When she’d arrived last week the ramp didn’t catch her eye, as she’d spent her time on the back deck. Goosebumps rose on her forearms and nape as she saw that the water they had to get the boat into was mere feet away, instead of the two hundred yards she estimated it had been before the rain.
“Stay to the side and out of the way of the boat, Poppy. It’s heavier than it looks.” His instruction was firm, confident, but also empowering. Not one hint of condescension percolated in his tone.
Once the boat was afloat, Brandon pushed it far enough out so that he could pull the trailer back up onto the level ground.
“Won’t the water carry that away?”
“It might, but probably not. It’s heavy enough to stay put.” He waded toward her and took the plastic bag from her hands and tossed it into the cabin, under a protective roof. Thanks to the tarp, the boat looked relatively dry.
Although the deluge didn’t let up and she feared the boat would sink. Brandon’s arms were at his side and he faced her. “I’m going to have to put you in.” He had to shout over the roar of the rainfall.
Poppy’s knees were shaking, and she hated not knowing how exactly he thought they were going to survive this. “Are you sure?” She motioned at the water filling the boat.
“Now, Poppy!” His roar shook her and she scrambled toward him, her boots sloshing in the muddy water. A quick flash of a tail slithered across the top of the water near her calves and she screamed.
Strong hands had her waist and she was being lifted up and over the side of the boat, where she landed on the cushioned side benches on her knees with a splash. The deck tilted starboard as Brandon swung himself aboard and landed next to her.
“That was a cottonmouth. Not someone we want to bring back with us.” He grabbed her elbow and led her to the overhang that protected the engine controls. Within seconds he had the engines running and was slowly maneuvering them away from the house. They passed the decorative tops of the deck railings and Poppy shuddered. “The water’s almost completely over the deck.”
Brandon didn’t answer but instead was immersed in guiding the boat through and between trees and brush. Poppy knew that water moccasins liked to hang out in trees and decided to not look too closely. The brush of the snake against her rubber boots had been enough reptile contact for her.
She let out a breath of relief when they cleared where she remembered the edge of the tributary was, only to suck it back in as the rain assaulted them from all sides. Combined with the gusts and chaotic current, it made for a ride she’d have associated with white water rafting, not cruising down toward the Mississippi.
“Do we have to get to the main river to get to your place?” Her throat was raw from shouting and they were barely out of the small tributary where Sonja and Henry’s neighborhood rested.
“Do you mean the Mississippi? Yes, but it won’t be for long. With the current we’ll cut the usual time in half.” The white flash of his grin under the slicker hood angered and comforted her. She stepped up to him and pulled his hood back as she had hers.
“You need to be able to see better.”
His eyes met hers for a brief moment and in their blue depths she saw that he hadn’t forgotten her, or what was going on between them. Not at all.
It was probably ridiculous to enjoy the burst of lust he lit low in her center. Downright dangerous, in the midst of a natural disaster, to think about what they could be doing on this boat if the rain weren’t coming down in buckets.
“Should I start bailing the water out?” She looked around for a pail. Her plastic bag of all her worldly goods was floating on the few inches of rain that sloshed on the deck. Poppy grabbed it and shoved it up against the windshield in front of her.
“This boat’s got a pump. It’s doing its job or there’d be a lot more water in here already.” He took them around a large semicircle turn and she widened her eyes as she looked through the windshield and saw what lay ahead.
Frothy foam wave caps indicated where the current on the Mississippi raged in all its fury. The same expanse of water that had been as flat as a plate of glass and as calm last week had erupted into a boiling mess of mud, fallen limbs and trees, and water. If she were standing on the riverbank she’d appreciate the sheer raw power of nature. In a flat-bottomed aluminum boat that was being thrown around like it was no more than a toy, she was scared senseless.
Until she looked at Brandon. He was the captain of their adventure, leading them to safety with the confidence only gained from a lifetime of acquaintance with these waters. He whistled and alternatively swore as the boat was jostled and shaken by storm debris and rough currents. If he had any of the same fears as she, he didn’t reveal it in his relaxed wide-legged stance at the helm, or in how comfortably he held the wheel. He was a thoroughly modern man driving a boat outfitted with the latest technology, but he might as well be a seventeenth century Caribbean pirate, or one of the French explorers who’d arrived in the river delta three centuries ago. Brandon Boudreaux was as much a part of the bayou as crawdads and the Mississippi, and he had the pedigree to prove it.
“You’re staring again, Yankee girl.” He shouted over the din of the rain but his eyes never left the water and she wondered how the hell he could see.
“How will you know where to pull over—oh!” The boat pulled into the river and it was like hitting a wall when it hit the current. She flew to the side, against Brandon, who kept his hands on the wheel.
“Hang on to me, damn it! I can’t let go of the wheel until we’re at my place.”
He didn’t have to tell her, as she’d already wrapped her arms around his waist and clung like a baby possum to her mama. But Brandon’s body was nothing like a soft cuddly animal. All tension and focus, his muscles conveyed the deep concentration his mind enjoyed.
“Sorry!” She gave him a quick, friendly squeeze. This wasn’t the time to worry about how he interpreted her gestures. The longer she held on to him, the more the warmth of his body seeped into hers and she allowed herself to relax against him. It was a better way to handle the jolts and jarring slap-downs the bottom of the boat was going through. She’d never complain about having to attend a dinner boat cruise around Manhattan again. As the rain continued she didn’t know when or how they’d get to safety.
She trusted Brandon that it’d happen.
* * * *
Brandon had been on the river in all sorts of storms, but the deluge was absolutely crazy—the kind of adventure he’d have loved as a teen or college kid. But with a woman clinging to him for her life, all he wanted was to pull into his dock.
The woman holding on to him continued to intrigue him, at the worst time of his life for any kind of relationship. Sex-only, sex-and-friends, sex-and-romance; no matter what Poppy would be willing to settle for, he didn’t have it to give.
And yet, as he faced and fought the roughest ride he’d ever had on the Mississippi, he had a goddamned erection. What the hell kind of rescuer was he?
A horny one.
Her hot petite body was all but wrapped around him and a sick, twisted, reptilian throwback part of his brain imagined her going down on him right now. Wrapping first her hands and then her wet, hot mouth around him and sucking until he couldn’t take it anymore.
Thwack.
A huge tree winged past the boat, and he knew there’d be a dent to pound out later.
Her arms tightened around his waist again and realization struck him as fast as the lightning that had bolted the area earlier. Having Poppy next to him felt real. Comfortable. Expected.
Natural.
“Fuck.” He had a bad habit of thinking aloud. Her head lifted from its spot on his back, where he felt the heat imprint of her breasts and abdomen through both of their slickers.
“What?”
“Ah, er, I’m thinking about how big of a dent that tree made.”
“As long as it doesn’t put a hole in the keel.”
He wanted to turn his head, turn his body, and take her in his arms. Find out how she knew what a keel was, what it was about her that made him so fucking hard. But if he did that there’d be no figuring anything out because they’d wind up at the bottom of the Mississippi. The realization that he couldn’t take his eyes off the current, had to hold on to the wheel to stay on course, sobered him enough to clear away the haze of lust he was thinking through.
“You okay back there?” His voice sounded like a damned adolescent’s.
“I’m fine.” Her muffled response against his back affirmed what he suspected. Poppy was scared. He might not be able to control how his body reacted to her, but he damned well could make sure she had no reason to fear for her safety.
Except even he was no match for this kind of storm. Time to man up.
* * * *
By the time Brandon steered them out of the raging Mississippi and through one after another tributary until they were dealing with only the heavy rains, Poppy felt like she’d run a marathon through the Amazon Rainforest. She was soaked inside and out—on the outside from the rain and her body was coated with sweat from the non-breathable material of the slicker. Her teeth had started to clatter as shivers racked her but she didn’t care. They’d made it.
“You’re awfully quiet, Yankee girl.” Brandon spoke loudly but no longer had to shout, as the rain’s constant beating was their only companion as they motored up through a marshy area. Even the boat’s motor seemed quiet after the roar of the river.
“I’m meditating. This is pure zen compared to what we just went through.” She hoped he understood that she meant the river, and not the sexual attraction that had been their constant companion since they’d met on Friday. “That current was insane.”
“Are you cold?”
“Naw, I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
“How far is your place?”
“It’s right over there.” He pointed past the swamp, past a grove of what might be crepe myrtles, she couldn’t tell for sure in the rain and with no blossoms. Her gaze kept going, looking, until it landed on a large but simply lined structure. Its front picture window was the only clue that it wasn’t an industrial building.
“Did you design it?” It looked like the two boats of his she’d been on so far—organic to the bayou, practical, functional. “I’ll bet you have only the best technology in there.”
His laughter was balm to her shivering heart as it wrapped around and through the space between them. “Yeah, you could say I like my toys. Henry likes to tease me that I’d live in a mud house as long as it had Wi-Fi.”
“Is he right?” She watched his face closely for any hint of pride or entitlement as he looked out at his property. All she noticed was the soft edge to his eyes, the half grin of his mouth.
“I’m a guy. I get to live my dream every day, building bigger versions of the models I built as a kid. Boats by Gus has allowed me some financial freedom, and I have fun with it, to a point.”
He pulled up to a dock that was miraculously above water and killed the engine. As he threw two lines over onto the wooden structure, he jumped out and made quick work of tying them to stanchions painted in the same colors as the Boats by Gus logo she’d seen on his other boat and the T-shirt he’d worn the other night.
Poppy grabbed her bag and made to scramble out of the boat but Brandon beat her, holding his hand out.
Without a word, she held onto him—for balance purposes only. It burned from his heat where he’d touched her because she was freezing.
“Okay, let’s get inside and I’ll show you around before I have to come out and move the boat.”
“Why do you have to move it?”
“The tide. It’s going to go a lot higher, maybe by up to four feet, before this lets up.” He spoke from under his hood again and was close enough to her that their hoods formed a sense of cocoon around them. Poppy took a step back.
“That makes sense. I’ve never been a boat person, even though I grew up on the water.”
They walked down a long pier to a large stretch of land that formed the bank the house sat on. “Did your family live in New York your entire life?”
“Oh no, I’m not a native Manhattanite. I went there for college, when I met Sonja, and fell in love with the city. I grew up in Western New York, in Buffalo. I don’t suppose you’ve ever been there?”
“Yes, several times. You know there is a huge boating community on Lake Erie, right?” His teasing made the dimples on his cheeks deepen and she felt her cheeks redden in response. What would it be like to really flirt with this man, to be charmed by him? Instead of the tug-and-push of the attraction they kept cha-cha-ing around?
“Yes. I’ve been to the boat show there. It’s amazing to watch the big sailboats out on the lake. I just thought it was for the wealthy, though. Of course, I always thought nothing compared to the force of lake-effect snow storms in Buffalo but after today I’ve changed my perspective.”
They were on his back deck now, but it was concrete instead of wooden and it wrapped around the house. He led them to a side door where he looked into a tiny cup and keyed a PIN into an access pad.
“You do not have a retina scanner.”
“I do. Backed up with a keypad in case someone pops my eye out to break in.” His drawl was emphasized and she could blame it on the exhaustion but she knew him well enough to know he was teasing her.
“Hey, it’s the bayou. I’m learning anything can happen here.”
So far, all she’d experienced was having her best friend’s wedding crash and burn, closely followed by her career. Despair swamped her as she remembered her personal circumstance, which while on a back burner as long as she was stuck in NOLA, was going to come to full spotlight as soon as the storm lifted.
As soon as she could get back to New York.