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.”
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