That Day, Karen Deen [early readers .txt] 📗

Her hand on the screen door, she looks up at me one more time and then opens it and, pushing open the solid door, holds it for me to pass by her.

The sound of the raging storm outside slowly gets quieter as the door closes behind me. I finally bend down to put Coco on the ground, and my back and legs thank me.

“Now, behave yourself.” I rub Coco’s head as she nuzzles herself against my leg, then—I should have guessed—she does what all wet dogs do. She takes one step away from me and shakes every drop of water off her and coats her owner and me in more water, but this time it smells like wet dog.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I just… she just… oh dammit. Coco, seriously, haven’t you embarrassed me enough!” Coco just looks at her and gives a bark, before trotting off down the hallway into the back of the house. It’s only then I take in my surroundings. The beachside cottage might not be huge, but it has character. I’m standing in the kitchen that opens up into a dining/living room open-plan area. The hallway then runs down the middle of the house, I’m guessing to bedrooms and bathroom.

Her voice snaps me out of my looking around.

“I can’t thank you enough. I went out to tie up the stupid gate that was flapping in the wind and she followed me and then took off. I can’t keep up with her at the best of times, but when she’s scared, it’s impossible. And then she just wouldn’t move, and I couldn’t do anything, and I was so scared and then the thunder banged and then…”

I place my finger on her mouth that is still wet and trying to talk. “Shh. It’s okay.” My finger on her lips has her mouth stopping mid-sentence, and her eyes open wide and fix on my face.

“I don’t even know your name,” she says against my finger.

Lifting my finger off her lips, I want to tuck back her hair that is stuck over her cheeks, but it would definitely be overstepping the mark at this stage. I extend my hand to her. “I’m Kurt Dolan.” My hand hangs midair, waiting for her to take it. She seems to be frozen in the one spot. “Are you okay?”

“Umm yes, sorry. Umm, Asha Elders.” She reaches out with her little hand and finally takes mine. I know I’m a big man, but her hand seems so delicate in comparison. Like if I squeeze too hard, I will break it.

“Nice to meet you, Asha.” We stand there holding each other’s hand for a moment, when another loud crack of thunder and lightning happen simultaneous, breaking the moment.

The lights dim and flash a few times but come back on.

I didn’t notice the television on before that, but as the thunder fades, the sound of the news broadcast booms back across the room, and I notice the instant fear on Asha’s face as the words ‘Hurricane watch’ come from the TV reporter.

“Shit, looks like we’re in for a doozy of a storm now,” I say. “I think you should get yourself all dried and start preparing in case the hurricane makes land fall… Asha, are you still with me?”

“Oh, shit, sorry… a hurricane… what’s going to happen? I’ve never been in one. I don’t know what to do. I’m new here. Wow, I didn’t think to ask about this when I got here.” She looks as pale as a ghost.

I place my hands on her shoulders, trying to get her to concentrate on what I’m saying so I can help her. Who knows how long we have before we lose power?

“Asha, listen to me. I’ll help you. Don’t panic, okay? Can you tell me, where are your towels?” I need to get her into dry clothes, so she doesn’t catch a chill.

“Towels, yes, towels. Oh, damn, you’re soaking wet and I’m standing here like an idiot. Hang on.” Turning, she rushes off through the kitchen to a side door which I’m guessing is her laundry room. She’s still mumbling to herself, which is a bit cute, not realizing I can still hear her.

“Good one, Asha, you finally meet the hot surfer guy, and you look like a completely useless woman. Such a hot friggin’ mess…” Her voice is finally just a jumble I can’t make out as she half closes the door to get something from behind it.

Well, she’s right about the hot part. Watching her cute little curvy ass as she moved through the kitchen was a very nice sight. There is something about Daisy Duke shorts that make a guy stop and look, but when they’re wet and stuck to her like glue, then I can’t help but take interest. I’m guessing her shirt would normally be loose and flowing around her body, but right now, it’s a pale blue color and stuck nice and firmly to her body, showing me every curve. I’m sure she would die if she knew how see-through it is, but I’m trying to be a gentleman and not stare at her chest when I look at her. Trying is the operative word here.

The banging of the laundry door is louder than I anticipate and makes me jump a little, and Coco comes back down the hallway to check on Asha. The dog looks up at her and sees she’s fine, then disappears back down the hall. Asha comes to me, looking flustered, and starts trying to wipe my chest with a towel. It’s then I remember that I was getting dressed from the surf and don’t even have a shirt on.

“I’ll take that.” I grab the towel from her, before her cheeks burn up in flames. “I need you to go and get yourself dry and into warm clothes. Before you get sick.”

“But you must be cold and wet—I mean, you don’t even have clothes on, and you’re