His gaze skittered away from hers then, and of course every instinct screamed at her to dig deeper, to crack whatever haunted that expression.
She clamped down on the urge. Connection meant exposure. Exposure meant death.
He was a contact. Nothing more.
The word—contact—suddenly tasted like a lie. Bitter.
Twenty minutes in, the silence grew teeth. Her throat worked against the words fighting to escape. “Always dream of being a ranger?”
She’d turned slightly when she asked, and right then, her foot caught loose rocks. Arms windmilling, she pitched forward?—
Liam’s hand shot out, seizing her arm and yanking her against his chest. His heartbeat slammed against her ear, his arms locked around her like steel bands, and when she tilted her head up, his face had drained white. His eyes stared through her, seeing ghosts.
He glanced past her, at the gorge that dropped below.
Oh. Yeah.
Whoops.
She held perfectly still, her own pulse racing. She wanted to pull away, but something in his expression nailed her feet to the ground.
He wasn’t here. He was somewhere…else. Somewhere haunted and broken and terrible.
“Liam?”
His chest shuddered. Once. Twice. Then he blinked, and it seemed he crashed back from wherever he’d gone. Color flooded his cheeks as he released her, stumbling backward.
“Sorry.” The word scraped out rough, broken. His hand raked through his hair. “Thought you were?—”
“You okay?” Her voice came out softer than she’d intended, even despite the tremor racing up her spine. Her arm burned where he’d grabbed her. Every cell in her body wanted to close the gap he’d just created, to wrap him in the kind of embrace that chased away nightmares.
Clearly she hadn’t outgrown hating to see people in pain and do nothing.
“Yeah,” he said and took off.
So maybe not.
But the rest of the run passed in loaded silence, just their footfalls, breathing, and the sound of her own pounding heart.
They finally returned to her campsite, and Liam veered toward his truck, pausing with his hand on the door handle, breathing hard.
“Monday work for you?”
She blinked. “You don’t have to?—”
“No.” His eyes pinned hers, fierce and final. “Don’t run alone.” He exhaled and ran a hand over his face. Then met her eyes and his voice cracked, just a little. “Please.”
Thepleaseturned her a little weak, but she managed to nod. “Monday it is. Why not tomorrow?”
“Bungee jumping Saturday. Church Sunday, and I take the day off.”
Bungee jumping she could picture. Church blindsided her. She’d pegged him for the type who worshipped weekend adventures, not Sunday sermons.
“Try not to break anything important.” She fumbled her water bottle between her hands. “Thanks for, um…” She met his eyes. “…as much as I’d like, I can’t seem to get my wings to work.” She smiled.
He didn’t move. Just stood there, silhouetted against the canyon’s golden glow like some kind of North Face hiking brochure. Yeah, sign her up for the next trip?—
Oh, please, Nimue.She probably just felt his grip on her arms, um,saving her life.
