Private 02 - Private Paradise

exercise. Not that she would ever in a million years admit it to his face.
    “ Don't take it personally. I'd worry about anyone mentally deficient enough to go out into the eye of a hurricane when he has no way of knowing how fast the storm is moving.”
    As if to prove her point, at that moment there was violent snapping sound, followed by a crash which Carla guessed was the sound of a palm tree being denuded of several giant fronds.
    Sam's eyes darted to the windows, though he couldn't see anything through the sturdy wooden storm shutters. When he looked back at her, the chagrin on his face was unmistakable. “I'm sorry. You're right, it wasn't safe. I just wanted to make sure you had something to eat.”
    Carla felt the tension in her shoulders ease as the fear-fueled anger evaporated at the contrite, almost sweet expression in his electric blue eyes. “I'd rather miss a week of meals than risk you getting hurt or killed,” she said before she could consider the wisdom of such an admission.
    He crossed to her and gave her a quick, fierce hug. “Since that won't be necessary, why don't we go ahead and dig in.”
    “ How bad was it out there?” Carla asked as she did a quick inventory of the supplies Sam had brought as he rummaged through the cabinets for utensils and plates.
    He found two plates, a couple of forks and spoons, and a paring knife. “Flooding from the pool into the fitness center, and the restaurant took a hit from the beach, but other than some minor roof damage the main structures are holding up.”
    Carla let out the breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. Sure, flooding, even seemingly minor, could cause a lot of damage but for the moment―they wouldn't know the extent of the damage until the storm had fully passed―it sounded like repairs would be finished well in time for the holiday high season.
    As the knot in her stomach eased her hunger once again came to the forefront. She moved next to Sam, squinting a little in the flickering lantern light as she took inventory. Piles of fruit and vegetables, loaves of bread, an assortment of cheeses and cold cuts. Bags of chips, a six pack of beer, a bottle each of red and white wine.
    He'd certainly taken her hunger seriously.
    Sam grabbed a baguette and went to work on it with the paring knife, slicing it in half and down the middle for sandwiches. “There's turkey in there somewhere and a block of Swiss over there.” He indicated the pile of cheeses on the far end of the corner. “I grabbed some pickles too―I think you put them on the table. I couldn't find that sweet mustard that you like, but there's some mayo and Dijon next to the pickles.”
    Carla's hand froze momentarily as she reached for her baguette. She tried to ignore the squeezing sensation in her chest, telling herself that like her stupid peanut allergy, Sam remembering her favorite sandwich combo was of no significance whatsoever. Especially since he'd heard her order it dozens of times.
    Yeah, but not in the past week...
    She put the baguette on a plate, grabbed a spoon and slathered some mustard on both sides. She considered forgoing the pickles, just to send a signal that he didn't know her as well as he liked to think he did. But he'd gone through all the effort to bring her the food, she didn't have it in her to be bitchy and passive aggressive about it.
    Besides, how much would her turkey and Swiss suck without pickles? Especially when she already had to forgo the honey mustard. She finished making her sandwich and grabbed some chips from the bag he'd opened to accompany it.
    “ I brought dessert too,” he said, and indicated with his chin a plastic tub perched next to the sink.
    “ Ice cream?” Carla asked, her mouth already starting to water. For the most part, she tried to eat pretty healthfully, but ice cream had always been her weakness. Leave it to Sam to remember that.
    “ There wasn't any strawberry,” Sam said as he piled his own baguette with meat, cheese, and tomatoes, “so I grabbed the mango kind. We should probably get it into the fridge.”
    Carla nodded and set down her plate. Even with the electricity out, the fridge was still cold and the insulation would help keep the ice cream from turning to soup in the still, hot air. When she picked up the ice cream she noticed there was something else behind the plastic tub.
    She recognized the contents and nearly dropped the ice cream. Condoms. An entire bulk size box of them. “Wow,