Noah paddled hard as dark clouds rolled directly overhead. Soon rain began to fall, a light sprinkle at first, then gradually harder. Lightning… a pause… then thunder again. A little louder now. Maybe six or seven miles away. More rain as Noah began to paddle even harder, his muscles tightening with every stroke.
Thicker drops now, falling hard. Noah rowing… getting wet… cursing to himself… losing to Mother Nature.
Allie watched the rain fall diagonally from the sky as it rode on westerly winds that whistled over the trees. The sky darkened a little more. She leaned her head back for a moment to let it hit her face. She ran her hands through her hair, feeling its wetness. It felt wonderful, she felt wonderful. Even through the rain she could hear him breathing hard, and the sound aroused her sexually in a way she hadn’t felt in years.
A cloud burst directly above them and the rain began to come down harder than she’d ever seen it. Allie looked upwards and laughed, giving up any attempt at keeping dry, making Noah feel better. Even though she’d made the decision to come, he doubted that she’d expected to be caught in a storm like this.
They reached the dock a couple of minutes later, and Noah moved in close enough for Allie to step out. He helped her up, then got out himself and dragged the canoe up the bank, tying it to the jetty.
As he was tying the canoe, he looked up at Allie and stopped breathing for just a second. She was incredibly beautiful as she waited, watching him. She didn’t try to keep dry or hide herself, and he could see the outline of her breasts as they pressed through the fabric of the dress that clung tightly to her body. He quickly turned away, embarrassed. When he finished and stood, Allie took his hands in hers, surprising him. Despite the downpour, they didn’t rush towards the house, and Noah imagined what it would be like to spend the night with her.
Allie felt the warmth in his hands and wondered what it would be like to have them touch her body, lingering slowly across her skin. Just thinking about it made her take a deep breath. She realized then that something had changed. And although she couldn’t pinpoint the exact time-yesterday after dinner, or this afternoon in the canoe, or when they saw the swans, or maybe even now as they walked holding hands-she knew that she had fallen in love with Noah Taylor Calhoun again, and that maybe, just maybe, she had never stopped.
THERE WAS no uneasiness between them as they reached the door and went inside, pausing in the hall, clothes dripping.
‘I think I can find something here for you so you can get out of those clothes. It might be a little big, but it’s warm.”
“Anything,” she said.
“I’ll be back in a second.”
Noah slipped off his boots, then ran up the stairs, descending a minute later. He had a pair of cotton trousers and a long-sleeved shin under one arm and some jeans with a blue shirt in the other.
“Here,’ he said, handing her the cotton trousers and shirt. “You can change in the bedroom upstairs. There’s a bathroom and towel up there too if you want to shower.”
She thanked him with a smile and went upstairs, feeling his eyes on her as she walked. She entered the bedroom and closed the door, then set the trousers and shirt on his bed and peeled everything off. Naked, she went to his closet and found a hanger, put her dress, bra and panties on it, and then went to hang it in the bathroom so it wouldn’t drip on the hardwood floor. She felt a secret thrill at being naked in the same room he slept in.
She didn’t want to shower after being in the rain. She liked the soft feeling on her skin. She slipped on his clothes before looking at herself in the mirror. The trousers were big, but tucking in the shin helped, and she rolled up the bottoms just a little so they wouldn’t drag. The neck was torn a little, but she liked the way it looked on her anyway. She pulled the sleeves up almost to the elbows, went to the chest of drawers and slipped on some socks, then went to the bathroom to find a hairbrush.
She brushed her wet hair just enough to get out the tangles, letting it rest on her shoulders. Looking in the mirror, she wished she had brought a clasp or a couple of hairpins. And a little more mascara. Her eyes still had a little of what she’d put on earlier, and she touched up with a flannel, doing the best she could.
When she was finished, she checked herself in the mirror, feeling pretty despite everything, and went back downstairs.
Noah was in the living room squatting before a fire, doing his best to coax it to life. He didn’t see her come in, and she watched him as he worked. He had changed his clothes as well and looked good: his shoulders broad, wet hair hanging just over his collar.
He poked the fire, moving the logs, and added some more kindling. Allie leaned against the doorjamb, one leg crossed over the other, and continued to watch him. In a few minutes the fire had turned to flames, even and steady. He turned to the side to straighten the remaining unused logs and caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. He looked up quickly.
Even in his clothes she looked beautiful. After a moment he shyly went back to stacking the logs.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” he said, trying to sound casual. “How long have you been standing there?”
“A couple of minutes.”
Noah brushed his hands on his jeans, then pointed to the kitchen. “Can I get you some tea? I started the water while you were upstairs.” Small talk, anything to keep his mind clear. But damn, the way she looked…
She thought for a second. Do you have anything stronger, or is it too early to drink?”
He smiled. “I have some bourbon in the pantry. Is that okay?”
“That sounds great.”
He started towards the kitchen, and Allie watched him run his hand through his wet hair as he disappeared.
Thunder boomed loudly and another downpour started. Allie could hear the roaring of the rain on the roof, could hear the snapping of lop as the flickering flames lit the room. She took a quilt from the sofa and sat on the rug in front of the fire. Crossing her legs, she adjusted the quilt until she was comfortable and watched the dancing flames. Noah came back, saw what she had done, and went to sit beside her. He put down two glasses and poured some bourbon into each of them. Outside, the sky grew darker. Thunder again. Loud. The storm in full fury, winds whipping the rain in circles.
“It’s quite a storm,” Noah said as he watched the drops flow in vertical streams on the windows. He and Allie were close now, though not touching, and Noah watched her chest rise slightly with every breath, imagining the feel of her body once again before fighting back the thought
“I like it,” she said, taking a sip. “I’ve always liked thunderstorms. Even as a young girl.”
“Why?” Saying anything, keeping his balance.
“I don’t know. They just always seemed romantic to me.”
She was quiet for a moment, and Noah watched the fire flicker in her emerald eyes. Then she said, “Do you remember sitting together and watching the storm a few nights before I left?”
“Of course.”
“I used to think about it all the time after I went home. I always thought about how you looked that night. It was the way I remembered you.”
“Have I changed much?”
She took another sip of bourbon, feeling it warm her. She touched his hand as she answered.
“Not really. Not in the things that I remember. You’re older, of course, with more life behind you, but you’ve still got the same gleam in your eye. You still read poetry and float on rivers. And you’ve still got a gentleness that not even the war could take away.”