I took a swig from the bottle. It had managed to stay pretty cold, despite the lack of power to the fridge.

“Well,” I said. “I think that’s terrible. Everyone, even animals, needs their own individual name.”

“Socks seem okay to you?”

I looked at the border collie and had to admit he appeared brighter eyed and happier than I’d ever seen him, and not only because Drew was tossing him a dog treat from a jar he kept on the black granite counter by the fridge.

“Well, yes. But—”

“Then who cares? Let’s talk some more about that kiss. What other traditions do New Yorkers—”

“Let’s talk about what happened here last night.”

“Oh, yeah.” He winced at the memory as he was biting into the sandwich his aunt had prepared for him. “That. Well, as you probably recall, after I dropped off your scooter at the house, I drove back here.”

“Yes . . .”

“And that’s when the weather started getting a little dicey. Do you want a bite of this?” He held the sandwich toward me.

I shook my head. “It’s all yours. Where’s your truck?”

“I didn’t want it to get flooded out in the storm surge, so I parked it over by the high school, then hoofed it back here to be with the dogs.”

This was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard . . . aside from naming all your dogs Bob.

“Did it not occur to you to take the dogs with you and stay at the high school? It’s a storm shelter.”

He shook his head. “Couldn’t do that. The high school’s a shelter of last resort for people who really need it.”

“Yes. And?”

“So I didn’t really need it. The dogs and I would have been taking away valuable space and resources from those in need.”

I nearly lost it. Standing in the middle of his bright, airy home, the sun and sea shining all around me, I flung both arms above my head and cried, “Drew, did you hear me when I told you what’s going on around here? The bridge to the mainland is washed out. Half your neighbors’ houses are gone! Someone’s refrigerator is in the middle of your street! Along with a boat!”

He chewed calmly on his sandwich then said, after swallowing, “Yeah, but my house is fine.”

“But you didn’t know it was going to be!”

“Yeah, I did. I built it. And look at it. It did great.”

The problem was, I couldn’t deny it. It had done great. Except for the sand and seaweed flung up against it, which could be hosed off, it hadn’t received a single scratch.

I couldn’t let him win the argument, however. My assignment had been to bring him back to his aunt.

“Well, you can’t possibly be planning on staying here,” I said. “You don’t even have power.”

“What do I need power for?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Cooking food for human sustenance?”

He crooked a darkly tanned index finger at me. “Come hither, little girl.”

Trying not to show how sexy I found the gesture—or how disappointed I felt when it turned out he was only leading me through the nearest open sliding glass doors, and not toward his bedroom—not that I’d have let anything happen if he had been leading me to his bedroom . . . probably—I followed him.

“Here.” He pointed his beer bottle toward a massive outdoor grill, on which was sitting an enamelware percolator. “Satisfied that my daily needs are being met without electrical power?”

I stepped closer to the grill and saw that there was also a frying pan sitting on it, on which I glimpsed the remains of egg whites.

“You already had eggs this morning?” I asked in disbelief. “And yet you ate your aunt’s breakfast sandwich, too?”

“Hey,” he said, patting his flat belly. “Don’t you know calories don’t count when you’re going through hurricane recovery?”

I set down my beer and turned away from the grill—and him—in disgust. “Well, I guess you and the Bobs are doing just fine out here. Since you don’t need my help after all, I should probably go.”

“Whoa.” He lunged for my arm, grasping it above my elbow just as I was about to head back to the steps. “I didn’t say that. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got Internet or TV. And the Bobs are fun, but they aren’t great conversationalists. I could use some company.”

“Too bad you didn’t put in a generator when you were building this place,” I said, prying his fingers off, one by one.

“Oh, I did. I built a nice tall concrete pad for it and everything, to keep it out of the surge. It just hasn’t been connected yet.”

“Well, don’t worry. I know a guy with the power company. I’m sure he’ll have the electricity back on for you soon, and you can return to playing video games or whatever it is you like to do out here by yourself.”

He looked as wounded as if I’d said he liked to sit around and watch porn. “Video games? Did you even look around in there? I do not even own— And who do you know who works at the power company? I thought you only just moved here.”

“Three months ago, as I’ve told you repeatedly.” I liked that he seemed a little jealous. “And I know Sean Petrovich.”

“Sean?” His brow furrowed. “Sean Petrovich? If you think he’s coming to anyone’s rescue on his big white power truck, you’re going to be sadly disappointed. I ran into Sean last night on the street while I was heading over to the high school and he and his girlfriend—ha, bet you didn’t know he had one of those, did you?—were heading out of town like bats out of hell. I’ve never seen anybody so scared—”

“Wait.” I held up a hand to stop the flow of his words. “Sean Petrovich, the nephew of my landlady, Lydia Petrovich?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” He must have recognized something more than mere curiosity in my face, since he asked, “Why?”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I’ve known him since we were both kids. Played on the same ball team as Nevaeh’s dad in high school, but he wasn’t anywhere near as good. Only one who didn’t know he was never going to go pro was him.”

I felt a cold chill growing over me, despite the warmth of the wind blowing in from the sea.

“I asked him where the hell he thought he was going,” Drew went on, “since the people who work for the power company get paid double overtime to stay here through the storm to help the town get back online after, and he said screw that, no amount of money was worth dying for, and that he and his girl were headed for Tampa. Which I doubt they even made it to, because that storm was already hitting here when they—”

“But that’s terrible!”

He frowned, misunderstanding me. “Well, I mean, they might have made it. Probably, if the guy had any sense, he pulled over into a hotel when the winds got really bad—”

“No, not about that.” I couldn’t believe it. “Sean was supposed to be taking care of my landlady’s son’s guinea pigs. Did he have them with him?”

Drew stared at me. “Did he have what with him?”