Page 85 of Through the Storm

Ella grins, fully unrepentant. “Yeah. Certified car seat safety checks. Super common. Takes like fifteen minutes.”

I stare at her. “Why,” I ask slowly, “did you not tell me this before I fought for my life in this driveway?”

She breaks, laughing loud and bright. “Probably because watching you figure it out yourself was way funnier.”

Katy groans. “Ella!”

“What?” Ella wipes a tear from her eye. “He did great. I just… forgot to mention it.”

I look down at the perfectly secure car seat. Then back at her.

“I hate you,” I say sincerely.

Ella straightens, still smiling. “You’re incapable of hate.” Declan opens the passenger door for her. She slides in, still grinning. “But just in case, we’re leaving before you throw something at me,” she calls.

They drive off together, laughter trailing behind them.

KATY

I think there might be something wrong with me, because Ben is drenched in sweat, his T-shirt darkened, his hair damp, his chest rising and falling, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on in my life.

He’s still so focused. Still riding the adrenaline of making sure everything was right. Like the car seat wasn’t just plastic and straps, but a promise.

So, I make more lemonade. Mostly as an excuse to get him inside.

I shut the door behind us and lean against it, watching him pace the kitchen like he’s coming down from something big.

“You okay?” I ask.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah. Just… needed that to be right.”

I nod. I understand that feeling down to my bones.

“You’re soaked,” I say, my eyes dragging over the darkened cotton clinging to his chest.

He follows my gaze and huffs a laugh. “Wow. Subtle, Katy Cat. But yeah, I’m disgusting.”

I smile. “You’re not, you’re my hero.”

He snorts. “That’s a very generous interpretation of what just happened in that driveway.”

I push off the door and step closer, lowering my voice. “You want to rinse off?”

His eyes flick to mine. “Yeah. Probably should.”

“The pool?” I suggest.

He arches a brow.

I hold his gaze. “Or we could take a shower.”

Silence. Thick and immediate. The air shifts. The tension palpable.

“Katy.” He studies my face, like he’s checking for nerves. For hesitation. “You sure?” he asks quietly.

I nod, heart pounding. “Yes.”

We make it upstairs without speaking. He’s half a step behind me, and I can feel him there like a second pulse. By the time I reach the bathroom, my hands are shaking.