The Other Side of Us (Harlequin Superromance) by Sarah Mayberry Read Free Book Online

en suite bathroom, but it didn’t sound like a tap running. The rain was
still thrumming against the roof and pelting the windows and a horrible
suspicion crept into her mind. She threw back the covers. The ominous feeling
intensified when she discovered Mr. Smith was missing from the hallway outside
her bedroom. Not a great sign. She turned on lights as she moved through the
house, checking first the open-plan living area at the back before making her
way to the front.
    She found Mr. Smith at the door, ears up, posture alert in full
defcon-five watchdog mode.
    “What’s going on, Smitty?”
    He turned and gave her a darkly knowing look.
    “That bad, huh?”
    She opened the door—and froze.
    Water rushed down her gravel driveway, a muddy brown torrent
filled with leaves and gravel and other debris. Once it hit the paved area in
front of her house, it had nowhere to go, and a lake was forming on her
doorstep, the water already lapping at the bottom step.
    Dear God, she was about to be flooded.
    For a moment shock stole her capacity to think. She stared at
the swirling, dark water, unable to comprehend what was happening. Then,
suddenly, her brain snapped into action. There was a storm drain across the
driveway. In theory, it should be channeling this deluge away from the house.
Which meant it must be blocked. Maybe if she could unblock it, she could avert
disaster.
    Maybe.
    She was barefoot, so she raced up the hallway, snatching her
rubber boots from the laundry, along with her garden gloves and the yard
broom.
    She was soaked to the skin the moment she stepped beyond the
shelter of the porch, sheeting rain turning her tank top and pajama bottoms into
skintight apparel. Squinting against the downpour, she made her way to the
drain. The problem was immediately apparent—gravel had washed down from the road
and filled the grate covering the long channel, rendering it all but useless and
creating a bridge for the water to reach the house. She pulled on the gloves and
squatted, scooping the gravel away from the grate. She swore under her breath
when she saw that as fast as she scooped, the rushing water replaced what she’d
removed with yet more gravel.
    She increased her pace, scooping the gravel away with cupped
hands, pushing it between her legs like a dog digging a hole. After ten minutes
it became painfully clear to her that she was rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. Not only was the water faster than her,
but also she could feel her energy flagging. She glanced over her shoulder and
felt a sick jolt of adrenaline at the sight of the water lapping at the second
step.
    She abandoned the drain and returned to the porch, collecting
the broom then wading into the fray. The water was already flowing around the
house, rushing down either side, but not nearly fast enough to prevent the
rising levels. But perhaps if she encouraged it on its way she could keep the
water from invading her home.
    Perhaps.
    She began pushing the water toward the side of the house with
the broom, gloved hands gripping the handle tightly. She worked doggedly,
putting all her weight behind each push. Soon her arms were burning and she was
panting.
    And still the water kept coming.
    She paused to catch her breath, despair filling her heart as
the rain intensified.
    She was going to be flooded. There was no way she could stop
it. The best she could do was retreat inside to roll up rugs and move as many
valuables as she could off the floor.
    She lifted a hand to swipe the water from her face—an utterly
useless, pointless gesture, just as all of her efforts had been useless and
pointless tonight—then lost her breath as a figure loomed out of the
darkness.
    Tall and broad, his chestnut hair was plastered to his scalp,
his jeans molded to his thighs, his T-shirt to his chest.
    Her neighbor, Oliver-the-ass.
    He surveyed the situation, then zeroed in on the drain. She
started moving forward, intending to tell him that it was no use, that