Read Online A Perfect Storm by Cameron Dane - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cameron Dane
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kitchen down. Some quick thinking and a handily placed fire extinguisher had saved them from authorities possibly reassessing granting a young man the caretaker role for his little sister when there were many adults around capable of taking on the job.
“You sure do seem to like that bread.”
The sound of a young, scratchy voice shoved Sophie’s heart right into her throat. She whipped out of her meandering thoughts, scanned the kitchen, and found an auburn-haired boy who appeared to be nine or ten. He stood at the entrance wearing jeans and an Incredible Hulk sweatshirt.
A child?
With one look at the kid, all the confusion that had been swirling and growing inside Sophie since stepping foot on this island increased a hundredfold. What. The. Heck?
All arms and legs, the gangly boy continued to study Sophie from his position just outside the kitchen. His wide-eyed stare surely matched hers, and his immobile state spurred Sophie to action.
“Hi.” She walked across the kitchen and stuck out her hand. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Sophie.” After a handshake, Sophie explained, “I’m staying at Ravenstoke because of the storm. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to leave.”
“My name is Owen,” the boy shared. “I lived here before the storm.”
Ah, Owen . Sophie remembered Emma’s mentioning him by name. So not another employee . Lucien’s son, then? No . For all the mysterious nature of the man, she could not see him showing her around this place, eating dinner with her, sharing the study quietly for hours afterward, and somehow just letting it slip his mind that he had a child on the premises. Still… Maybe she was letting her growing interest in the man create explanations for every surprise she came across at Ravenstoke in order to continue to justify her quick attraction to an absolute stranger.
Just as Sophie groaned inwardly at the convoluted direction of her thoughts, Owen pushed past her into the kitchen. “The storm was baaaad,” he said, heading right for the stove. With the way the boy dragged out that word, combined with the light in his eyes, Sophie imagined what he’d really meant was badass, cool, and awesome.
“It was pretty spectacular,” Sophie agreed as she joined him. “I don’t know about you, but I could hear the windows shaking in their frames all night. One or two times, I thought they might bust right out of the walls.”
“Jade stayed with me.” Owen made a face worse than if he’d swallowed down a tin of rancid sardines. “But I didn’t need her to. I’m not a baby or anything. I’m not scared of bad rain.” The kid suddenly wore a huge smile. “My mom says I might not have to go to school for a whole week cuz of all the mess from the storm.”
Sophie’s thoughts drifted to the battered island and still-tumultuous waters. She could only imagine the destruction on the mainland. “I think your mom might be right.”
As fast as Owen grinned, he hopped up on a stool and grabbed a knife out of a wood block. “My mom said the bread is cool now, and if I’m careful, I can cut it.”
Sophie leaned her elbows on the counter and worked with everything in her to maintain a casual stance and tone. “Your mom?” Please, please, don’t let my interest come across as more than casual.
Owen nodded. “She made it, so she knows, and that means it’s okay.”
Sophie exhaled. “So Emma’s your mother.”
“Uh-huh.” As Owen nodded again, he flipped the bread onto a plate and sliced off a huge wedge from the end.
Hating her desire to know, Sophie asked anyway, “And your da—”
“Sweetheart.” Emma swept into the kitchen right then, looking harried but lovely, and Sophie snapped her mouth shut. “You were supposed to cut slices for everyone and take them outside.” After joining them at the counter, she raised both eyebrows at her son. “I believe that was my condition. I’m sure you understood it as clearly as I spoke it.”
With a big swallow, Owen
“You sure do seem to like that bread.”
The sound of a young, scratchy voice shoved Sophie’s heart right into her throat. She whipped out of her meandering thoughts, scanned the kitchen, and found an auburn-haired boy who appeared to be nine or ten. He stood at the entrance wearing jeans and an Incredible Hulk sweatshirt.
A child?
With one look at the kid, all the confusion that had been swirling and growing inside Sophie since stepping foot on this island increased a hundredfold. What. The. Heck?
All arms and legs, the gangly boy continued to study Sophie from his position just outside the kitchen. His wide-eyed stare surely matched hers, and his immobile state spurred Sophie to action.
“Hi.” She walked across the kitchen and stuck out her hand. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Sophie.” After a handshake, Sophie explained, “I’m staying at Ravenstoke because of the storm. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to leave.”
“My name is Owen,” the boy shared. “I lived here before the storm.”
Ah, Owen . Sophie remembered Emma’s mentioning him by name. So not another employee . Lucien’s son, then? No . For all the mysterious nature of the man, she could not see him showing her around this place, eating dinner with her, sharing the study quietly for hours afterward, and somehow just letting it slip his mind that he had a child on the premises. Still… Maybe she was letting her growing interest in the man create explanations for every surprise she came across at Ravenstoke in order to continue to justify her quick attraction to an absolute stranger.
Just as Sophie groaned inwardly at the convoluted direction of her thoughts, Owen pushed past her into the kitchen. “The storm was baaaad,” he said, heading right for the stove. With the way the boy dragged out that word, combined with the light in his eyes, Sophie imagined what he’d really meant was badass, cool, and awesome.
“It was pretty spectacular,” Sophie agreed as she joined him. “I don’t know about you, but I could hear the windows shaking in their frames all night. One or two times, I thought they might bust right out of the walls.”
“Jade stayed with me.” Owen made a face worse than if he’d swallowed down a tin of rancid sardines. “But I didn’t need her to. I’m not a baby or anything. I’m not scared of bad rain.” The kid suddenly wore a huge smile. “My mom says I might not have to go to school for a whole week cuz of all the mess from the storm.”
Sophie’s thoughts drifted to the battered island and still-tumultuous waters. She could only imagine the destruction on the mainland. “I think your mom might be right.”
As fast as Owen grinned, he hopped up on a stool and grabbed a knife out of a wood block. “My mom said the bread is cool now, and if I’m careful, I can cut it.”
Sophie leaned her elbows on the counter and worked with everything in her to maintain a casual stance and tone. “Your mom?” Please, please, don’t let my interest come across as more than casual.
Owen nodded. “She made it, so she knows, and that means it’s okay.”
Sophie exhaled. “So Emma’s your mother.”
“Uh-huh.” As Owen nodded again, he flipped the bread onto a plate and sliced off a huge wedge from the end.
Hating her desire to know, Sophie asked anyway, “And your da—”
“Sweetheart.” Emma swept into the kitchen right then, looking harried but lovely, and Sophie snapped her mouth shut. “You were supposed to cut slices for everyone and take them outside.” After joining them at the counter, she raised both eyebrows at her son. “I believe that was my condition. I’m sure you understood it as clearly as I spoke it.”
With a big swallow, Owen
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