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Judging from her pale skin, the woman sleeping on my stoop is either a sunblock adherent or she’s not from California. Her dark hair is pulled back in a loose binding. There’s something familiar about the shape of her face that tweaks a distant memory. High cheekbones and an angular chin. Slight shoulders. Max wasn’t off his rocker. She’s definitely my type. Brunette. Petite. Natural.
Max assumed she was an overnight guest, probably because she’s wearing wrinkled clothes that are likely yesterday’s outfit.
The closer I get, the more the stains on her loose-fitting jeans show. The cropped tee circles her neck with a washed-out yellow band. There’s a faded rainbow on the front of the tee, but the way she’s resting against the building, her arm partially covers the design.
She looks young. Younger than me. I’d guess early twenties. Given her clothes, she could be a college student. Maybe she just had too much to drink last night and wound up on my stoop sleeping it off.
Should I wake her or just let her rest? She’s not hurting anyone out here.
Millie takes the choice away with a bark so loud it could wake the dead.
CHAPTER 2
Sage
“No!”
Bright white light forces me to squint.
I clutch my chest, curling away. The floorboard creaking. Crouching. Darkness. Black metal. The gun. It all comes back in a flurry.
I blink into blue skies. A palm frond sways.
I’m in California.
Ruff. Ruff.
An enormous chocolate Lab approaches with friendly golden-brown eyes and a wagging tail.
“Shh. It’s okay.”
My gaze lifts, past the dark brown fur, to the deep intonations with the barest trace of a southern accent. Knox Williams.
My heart, an organ I’m hyperaware of, seizes for a split second.
Knox Andrew Williams. I’d thought he might show up at Sam’s funeral, but he didn’t. Someone said he was still overseas. No one from Sam’s team made it. They were supposed to, but they didn’t.
The funeral was twenty-two months ago.
Knox’s short-sleeve shirt clings to every muscle along his shoulders, stretching across his pecs and rounded biceps. His skin bears the bronzed tone of someone who spends hours working under the sun. The dark growth along his jawline is uneven. It’s not a full beard, and it’s darker than his ruffled sandy brown hair. He looks like he’s been on vacation and decided against shaving during his time-off. It’s a good look.
Aside from his appearance, it’s Knox Williams’s smile that stands out. That unforgettable smile transforms from uncertain, as in who-the-hell-is-on-my-step, to a friendly hey-I-think-I-might-know-you.
My body trembles uncontrollably, and my eyes sting. My body’s reaction is one I’d managed to control for days, and now isn’t the time to lose it.
“Sage?”
I nod, breathing through my mouth to control the flood of random emotions.
“What’re you doing?—”
A watershed of tears overflows uncontrollably from the depths within.
Knox steps up and pulls me into his damp chest. He reeks of sweaty, smelly guy, but I don’t care because I made it. Alive.
The dog at my side licks my hand and wrist as Knox guides me inside his home and directs me to a sofa. He leaves and returns with a box of tissues.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
