“Yeah. The lights have been blinking, and as I said, I just blew a fuse turning on the coffeemaker.”
He stuck his head into the kitchen. “Wow, my grandparents had a fridge like that.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, leaned against the doorframe. “Well, it’s not running right now.”
He frowned then nodded. “Where’s the fuse box?”
I tipped my chin toward the hallway. “Basement.”
He stepped back and let me lead the way.
I opened the door and flipped the switch. That light worked. Going down the rickety stairs into the creepy basement, Nash followed. There were small windows that let some natural light in but not too much, which was probably good because I didn’t want to see how many spiders were in the dark corners. If I saw one, I probably wouldn’t be coming down here ever again.
On the far wall, there was a bigger window I remembered Uncle Adam telling me had been opened for coal delivery back in the day. He’d had to shovel it into the furnace to keep the house warm in the winter. Beneath it, the dirt floor had bits of crushed coal ground in. That had been decades ago when it had been last used, replaced with an oil burning furnace.
The air was cooler, a dank scent filled the air. There wasn’t much on this level beyond an old washer and dryer and a few lines strung between the first floor’s cross beams for hanging things to dry.
“Here it is.” I went over to the old box on the wall.
“Wow, vintage fuses. Haven’t seen many screw-in ones lately.”
I turned and pointed at my uncle’s handwriting next to each one stating what they went to in the house.
Heavy steps came down the stairwell right before a deep voice said, “Careful, darlin’. Touch that and your hair might curl.”
Nash and I turned, Nash’s shoulder brushing mine.
I touched my hair, red as a rooster and already crazy curly. It always looked like I’d been electrocuted. I didn’t need that to actually happen to have that effect.
“I told you to wait for me,” he growled at Nash, who immediately stepped away from me.
“Rand’s right,” Nash replied. “Gotta turn off the main first.”
I heard Nash but wasn’t paying him any attention. I felt like I’d gotten a jolt of electricity just looking at the guy who’d come down the stairs.
Rand. The wolf from last night. I knew it was him. Felt it in my bones. My heart leapt and my pussy wept.
I hadn’t seen him since I was ten, but I knew who he was. He’d been sixteen then, so he obviously looked older now. The time had treated him well. Really well. He was… wow. Better. Bigger.
Holy shit. I’d been right back then, and I’d been right the night before at the swimming hole. Rand was a shifter.
He stared at me with those blue eyes that I knew had met mine from the top of the waterfall. In the dim light of the basement, they seemed to glow, just as they had before. His hair wasn’t silver, far from it. Beneath his cowboy hat, it was almost black. His jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared.
“Red, it’s been a long time.” He came over to me, extended a hand and pushed Nash further away.
Red. I’d forgotten all about that nickname he’d given me all those years ago when my hair had usually been in a long braid down my back. He leaned close, and I had to tip my chin back to look up at him. His nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath. Almost like he was breathing me in.
God, he probably was. I’d bet he had a keener sense of smell than a normal human. Wolf senses.
“Sure has,” I replied although my mouth was dry.
“You’ve grown up.” His gaze drifted over me from my cheap gas station flip flops to my wild hair… and everywhere in between. He reached out, tucked a curl behind my ear.
I gulped, and my skin prickled at the action.
Holy shit.
“So… have you.” I didn’t remember him to ever be a gangly teenager. The opposite. He’d been tall, thickly muscled and, to a ten-year-old, cute. The first vague flutterings of a girlhood crush had been awakened by him. Now, he was even taller, even broader. His muscles had muscles. My female interest wasn’t a vague flutter any longer.
Hell, no. It was instant attraction. Heat. A longing I’d never known before.
Nash stood off to the side watching as if he were at a tennis match. “You two know each other?”
Rand dropped his hand but almost reluctantly. “I used to work for Old Man Sheffield. Back in high school. Natalie was here summers when she was little.”
Nash snapped his fingers. “That’s right.”
I knew I blushed but hoped it didn’t show too much. “Haven’t been back since I was ten,” I admitted. “It’s been a long time.”