Chapter 1, Part 3

“Yeah,” Nicholas smiled. “Nice. You remember what that means.”

He got up from the chair, cringing a little at the squeak of plastic. Jeana hopped up onto the kitchen counter and opened her arms and legs to him. Nicholas fit into the empty space, but not before shooting a look at the open basement door, and pressed against her in a way that made them both sigh.

“Keep me safe in the storm?” Jeana said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She bit her bottom lip and put a hand in the waistband of his jeans, while a low tree branch thumped rhythmically against a window, buffeted by the strong winds. When Nicholas groaned into her ear and pushed against her, she grazed the bare skin of his hip with her fingertips, then moved her hand around to the front, and thrust it deeper.

Nicholas gasped and pushed away, “My grandmother.” He’d taken a step back but Jeana’s hands remained in his pants.

“I told you, I experimented in college, but Hattie’s not my type,” Jeana smirked. She was bent forward at the waist, holding onto him like a trapeze artist reaching for her swing. Jeana hooked her fingers through his belt loops and tugged, but Nicholas didn’t move.

“I’m serious. I should check on her,” he grasped both of her wrists in one hand, she hated when he did that, and pulled them away from him. He moved toward the basement door, but Jeana didn’t budge. “You coming?”

Jeana glanced over her shoulder and outside, where the rain and wind had let up. Suddenly, she wanted to be anywhere but here. “I’m gonna go to the warehouse.”

“Are you kidding me? We have to clean the basement.”

“Yeah, I know but,” she gave him a curt peck on the cheek and scooted around him out the back door. “I have to pick something up at work. You guys start without me, I’ll be back in an hour.”

Before he could protest, she was out the door and inside their little hatchback, the one with the discolored front panel from when they had to get it replaced and couldn’t find a matching paint color. She started the car, released the parking brake, but then she waited for a few seconds. Just to see if he would come after her.

She opened her phone, scrolled to the recently dialed numbers, and selected the first name on the list, Brad.

“Hey, I was able to get away,” She clicked on the wipers to clear away the soft drizzle accumulating on the windshield. The back door of the house remained closed. “Meet me at our spot in ten minutes.”