Love for All Time Read online

  She looked back to his face to find him smiling at her.

  She blinked, tried to match his smile. Had he seen her staring at him?

  Finally, he spoke. “Some weather we’re having.”

  She nodded, relieved. Either he hadn’t seen her staring, or had decided not to bring it up. “Yeah. The storm must be pretty darn close.”

  “Well, let me get you inside before the weather gets worse. The forecast says Hester’s gonna hang around for a while.” He extracted a single, silver key on an MHI key chain from his pocket.

  She watched as he put the key in the lock...or attempted to.

  His brow furrowed as he tried a second time to put the key into the lock. “What in the world?” After lifting the key chain in front of his face, he flipped it over and looked at it. He frowned, uttering a single word. “Crap.”

  Confused, she asked, “What is it?”

  “This isn’t the right key.” He slipped it back into his pocket. “The Glenn is laid out with two condos to each floor, an A unit and a B unit. This is the key to 202 A.”

  She glanced to the left. “The unit next door? Can’t you just lease me that one, since we’re already here?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. That unit was rented earlier this morning. Aside from that, your unit is already set up with grocery delivery and everything you requested.”

  Hopeful, she asked, “You got me a guard?”

  He cleared his throat. “Let me revise that. Almost everything you requested is set up in this unit.”

  She sighed, turning to face the parking lot. Moments later, the wind changed direction, and a spray of fat raindrops hit her in the face.

  Wiping away some of the dampness with her hand, she looked to Campbell. “What do you need to do to get the right key? I’d really like to get out of this weather.”

  “I’ll call my intern, Jacob. He rented the other unit, so I’ll see what he can tell me.”

  While he talked on his cell phone, she moved away from the railing, resting her back against the wall in hopes of avoiding another involuntary shower. She tried to eavesdrop discreetly, but all she heard were a few of his deep-voiced words, in between the bouts of wind and rain.

  When he disconnected the call, he turned her way. “The key is still at the office, but Jacob had put it away with the paperwork for the other unit. Even though it was rented today, they’re not moving in until tomorrow.”

  “Is that policy? If so, why didn’t you put my key with my paperwork?”

  He looked sheepish. “That was an error on my part. I had another appointment right after you and I didn’t match up your key. Sorry about that.”

  She pursed her lips. Fine as he was, he seemed a little forgetful. “So, what happens now?”

  “Jacob is going to bring the key here.”

  She blinked several times. “So we’re just going to be waiting here, in this weather?”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Dandridge. But it’s either that or go sit in our cars until Jacob gets here.”

  She looked out at the sky. It had grown even darker since she’d arrived, not to mention the heavier rain and the insistent winds. She shook her head. “Nah. I’ll wait here. I’m not going back down there.”

  “I’d hate for you to have to stand up this whole time.” He moved closer to her.

  Her heart rate sped up for a moment before she realized he was walking past her.

  “Can I borrow your umbrella?”

  She nodded, handing it off to him.

  He opened it, then dashed down the stairs and into the driving rain. She watched as he went to his car, took something out of the back seat and locked up. Holding something close to his body, probably to keep it dry, he jogged back across the sidewalk and up the stairs. Once back on the landing, he closed the umbrella and dangled it over the railing, giving it a little shake. Then he handed the umbrella back to her, along with the thing he’d retrieved and had been clutching to his chest.

  She took the soft bundle.

  “I always keep a blanket in the car for emergencies. Fold it up a few times so you’ll have somewhere to sit.”

  She did as he asked, and after she’d folded the thick, plaid blanket into a neat rectangle, she placed it next to the door and took a seat to one side. Looking up at the handsome man towering over her, she thought she’d follow her mother’s sage advice. When life gets salty, make margaritas. Rachel Myers Dandridge was known for her odd little sayings, and that was probably one of Sierra’s favorites. It meant make the best of a less than ideal situation. To that end, she patted the blanket next to her. “You can sit here. There’s plenty of room.”

  He seemed surprised. “Really?”

  “Sure. No reason for you to stand up the whole time, either.”

  “Even though I got you into this mess?” He seemed pretty disappointed with himself.

  “Everybody makes mistakes, Campbell. Besides, it’s your blanket.” She patted the spot again. “Join me.” Even as she asked him to sit, she realized how rare it was for her to do something like this. She hadn’t earned her nickname by being cordial to men, especially those that inconvenienced her. But something about Campbell intrigued her. There was something endearing, and, if she were honest, enticing, about him.

  Finally, he nodded, and took a seat next to her. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” She realized her rectangle wasn’t as long as she’d thought, because now that he’d sat down, his muscular outer thigh pressed against her own. A tingle went through her body, originating from the point of contact and radiating through her every cell.

  * * *

  Campbell shifted a bit to his left, trying to put a little distance between them out of respect. But there wasn’t much farther he could move without ruining his slacks on the concrete landing, so he stilled. Their thighs were touching, and there was no way she hadn’t noticed. If it bothered her, she didn’t let on.

  The swirling wind and rain continued to pound the building, and he grabbed her umbrella and opened it in front of them to protect them from the elements. The lengthening silence between them made him feel nervous, so he spoke. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

  She nodded. “Let’s see. I’m an only child, and I’m from Los Angeles. My parents still live there. My father owns a welding business and my mother writes historical novels.” She paused. “What about you?”

  He wanted to hear more about her life, but thought it only fair to divulge a little about his own. “I was born and raised on the island. I’m sure you know my younger sister, Hadley. She’s married to Devon. We have an older brother, Savion. MHI is the family business, and we kids took over about six years ago when our parents retired.”

  “I see.” She looked straight ahead, as if focused on the falling rain.

  He observed her, enjoying her regal beauty in profile. She was dressed just as casually as the previous day, this time in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Her hair was up on top of her head in a messy bun, with a few tendrils hanging around her face. She appeared thoughtful, and he kept quiet to avoid interfering with whatever gears were turning in her mind.

  The stormy weather filled the air with the sounds of rain and howling wind, and he kept quiet and listened to the cacophony.

  Jacob’s car pulled up then, parking a few spots away from Sierra’s. As Jacob jogged through the rain with the key, Campbell met him halfway up the stairs.

  “Thanks!” He switched keys with Jacob, raising his voice to be heard over the wind. “Now try to get home before the storm gets any worse!”

  “Yes, sir!” Jacob ran back to his car, and soon pulled off.

  His shirt damp with rain, Campbell returned to the door and slipped the key into the lock. Turning it, he swung open the door. “Welcome to your unit, Ms. Dandridge.”

  She started to get up, and he offered his han
d to assist her. On her feet, she smiled as she passed him, entering the condo.

  He gathered the blanket and the umbrella and followed her inside, closing the door. The sound of the rainstorm was now buffered, but he could still hear the rain and wind. “Let me give you a quick tour, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Okay.” She trailed him around the unit and let him show her all the features and amenities it had.

  “You’ve got plenty of space to stretch out here.” He showed her the living room, kitchen/dining combo, the hall bathroom and the guest bedroom. In the master suite, he showed her the king-size bed and the attached bathroom, complete with soaking tub and separate shower. She lay across the bed for a moment, as if to test it, and he turned away to keep his thoughts from going in that direction.

  As if sensing his discomfort, she sat up and got on her feet again. “Everything looks wonderful. Anything else you want to show me?”

  He gestured for her to follow him back up the narrow hallway. “There’s a terrace off the dining room. You can access it by those glass doors. Nice views of the inlet from out there.” He pointed at them as they returned to the main living area. “But you’ll probably want to wait for better weather to check that out.”

  She chuckled. “Definitely.”

  It was the first time he’d heard her laugh. The sound, brief as it had been, seemed to brighten his world. He walked over to the stainless steel double-door refrigerator in the kitchen, and opened both doors. “As you can see, our shoppers have stocked your fridge with everything you requested from the list.”

  She came over and inspected the contents, grabbing a Gala apple from a shelf. “This is great.” She closed the doors, then went to the sink to rinse the apple.

  “That’s about it. Sorry again about the whole key mix-up.”

  She’d searched out a knife and cutting board, and was busy cutting up her apple. “It’s okay.”

  “I’m gonna head out and leave you to relax, then.” He bundled up his blanket, tucked it under his arm and walked toward the door. As he swung it open, greeted by the fierce winds, he thought he heard her call his name.

  “Campbell. Wait.”

  He turned around to face her in the doorway. “Did you call me? Do you need something else?”

  She stood by the kitchen counter, with the slices of apple on a napkin. “I don’t need anything else, no.”

  He shrugged. “See ya.”

  “Wait.”

  He turned back again. “I thought you said you didn’t need anything else?”

  She looked conflicted. “I don’t. But...I don’t think you should be going out there in this weather. We’ve been here for a little while, and it’s been getting worse this whole time.”

  He watched her face, and saw the lines of concern there. While he didn’t know what had given rise to her concern for him, he couldn’t help but be flattered by it. “Let me take a look out there.”

  He took a few steps out onto the landing, to ascertain conditions below them. The wind and rain were still steadily pounding the building, and the trees below appeared to be dancing as they waved their branches in time. His eyes swept over the parking lot, and he saw the deepening puddles forming on the black concrete. Instinct told him to walk to the other end of the landing, so he pulled the door shut gently and strolled to the right, past the door to the A unit. From that end of the landing, he craned his neck a bit to get a view of the inlet.

  Sure enough, the banks of the inlet had disappeared beneath the rising water. This part of the island was particularly low lying, but bordered Cooper Inlet instead of the Atlantic Ocean. When flooding happened here, it was often due to too much rain overflowing the inlet as opposed to seawater breaching the island’s curved seawall.

  She’s right. I can’t go out in this. Based on what he could see, and the pattern he recognized from living most of his life in Sapphire Shores, this side of the island would be under a good foot or so of water, and soon.

  He returned to her unit then, and found her standing in the open door, as if she’d come out to look for him. “Where did you go?”

  He pointed. “Around to the end of the landing. The inlet’s flooding, so you’re right. I probably shouldn’t be driving.”

  A soft smile met his words. “Good. Then come back inside out of this madness.”

  Once they were both inside again, he sat on one end of the tan sofa. “I appreciate this, Ms. Dandridge.”

  “Call me Sierra.”

  “If you insist.” The movie fan inside him did back flips. I’m on a first-name basis with Sierra Dandridge!

  She brought her sliced apple over to the coffee table and set it down. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

  “I’ll take a bottle of water, please.”

  She returned with two chilled bottles and passed him one. Cracking hers open, she took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa. “You’ve been through these storms before, right?”

  “Sure. We’ve been through at least twenty that had some level of impact. Fran, Floyd, Isabel. Why do you ask?”

  “How long do they usually last?”

  He shrugged. “Storms, a day or two. It’s the aftermath that can drag on and on.”

  She looked thoughtful. “No telling how long you’ll have to stay, then.”

  He winked. “Nope.”

  Chapter 4

  Sierra stood by the glass doors in the dining room, assessing the scene outside. Just as Campbell had mentioned earlier, the waters of Cooper Inlet were escaping. The inlet, about two miles away, had already begun to swell onto the road running next to it. The storm still raged on, with the wind and rain swirling beneath the darkened sky.

  With a sigh, she walked away from the door and back into the living room area. The gilded analog clock on the wall showed her that the dinner hour approached, but the rumbling in her stomach told her it had arrived.

  She looked to Campbell, who was still sitting on the end of the sofa. He had his phone out, and had been staring at it for a while. The screen glow illuminated his face in the dimness of the room.

  Moving toward the kitchen, she called out to him. “Campbell, are you hungry?”

  He glanced up. “Sorry, did you say something?”

  “I asked if you’re hungry.”

  He nodded. “Do you need help cooking?”

  She flipped the wall switch by the fridge, flooding the kitchen with soft, white light. “Not right now. What’s got your attention over there?”

  “I’m reading a book. I’ve got one of those e-reader apps on my phone.”

  Her brow crinkled. “What are you reading?” Opening the refrigerator, she scanned the shelves for the bundle of fresh herbs she’d seen there earlier.

  “The collected poems of Langston Hughes.”

  She stopped midreach, angling her head so she could look at him. “Really?”

  He looked up then, meeting her eyes. “Yes, really. Why do you look so shocked?”

  “It’s just...I’ve never met a man who read poetry. At least not one who would openly admit it.”

  He shrugged. “To be honest, it’s not just ‘reading poetry.’ Langston’s the man. Even all these years after his death, his words still resonate.”

  Recovered a bit from her initial shock, she grabbed the plastic clamshell case holding the herbs and set them on the counter. “It’s refreshing to meet someone who shares my opinion. I adore Langston’s work.”

  He watched her, as if seeing her with new eyes. “No kidding. What’s your favorite of his poems?”

  She thought about it as she removed unsalted butter, a loin of pork and a pound of fresh brussels sprouts from the fridge. “I’d have to say ‘Mother to Son,’ with ‘Harlem’ being a close second.”

  He tilted his head to one side, appearing thoughtful. “I see. Those are defi
nitely seminal works of his.”

  She washed her hands with the lemon-scented dish soap and dried them on a checked towel. Grabbing three russet potatoes from the wire basket on the kitchen counter, she set to work peeling them. With a glance over all the food she’d set out, she thought she should revise her earlier statement. “Listen, why don’t you come in here. I think this will go faster if I have an extra set of hands, and we can keep talking while we cook.”

  “No problem.” He placed the phone facedown on the coffee table and came to the kitchen. She inched to the left, so he could access the sink, and while he washed his hands, she kept working the vegetable peeler, turning the potato in her hand.

  As the peel fell in a perfect spiral, she set it down and reached for the second one.

  He dried his hands and asked, “What do you want me to do?”

  She gestured toward the rest of the food sitting on the counter. “Grab a deep roaster, and halve those sprouts, please.”

  “You got it.” He searched the lower cabinets for the roaster.

  As he bent, her greedy eyes devoured the sight of his muscled thighs and the perfect shape of his rear end. The man was built like a warrior, and looking at him now, she couldn’t help wondering about his “spear.”

  He stood then, having located a large, white ceramic roaster. After he set that on the counter and got a knife and cutting board, he began working on the sprouts, splitting them with precision and expertise.

  As she cubed her peeled potatoes on a separate board, the room grew quiet, save for the sounds of the storm and of their knives striking the boards. To break the silence, she glanced at him. “You never told me your favorite Langston Hughes poem.”

  He chuckled. “You never asked.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “I’m asking now. So, tell me.”

  After sliding a handful of halved sprouts off the cutting board and into a colander, he set the knife down. “I love the two you mentioned. But my absolute favorite is ‘April Rain Song.’”

  She searched her mind for a moment, before the words to that poem came back to her. “Oh, yes. The one with the rain kissing you...”