“Ow.” I wince at the pain as Jack wraps my arm, drinking in the gentle movement of his hands.
“Sorry.” His jaw clenches when he finishes.
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. But I’ll take a kiss. In fact, I think it’s a rule in situations like this.”
His lips threaten to turn up in a smirk. “What rule?”
“You clearly haven’t been rescuing enough damsels, Jack Kent.”
He raises his brows in amusement.
“I was trying a Superman thing.” I wave a hand at the humor in his gaze and take the pills he hands me and swallow them, praying they kick in soon.
“Although I’m kinda glad you’re unaware, ‘cause the thought of your lips on another damsel makes me a little stabby, even if she were in distress. Regardless, your ignorance of the rule doesn’t negate its existence. It’s as universal as cops and donuts. I have an injury, I get a kiss.”
This man, who never smiles the same way twice, lets his lips curl with sadness. The humming breeze prickles bits of dust against my skin as he leans a hand on the wall behind me, morning sunlight dancing in his eyes as he melts forward.
“I’ve never been more tempted to give in to a princess’s request, but I still don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m no prince, Willow.” His eyes ping between mine, and he doesn’t move, like his heart is rejecting his own words. Deep down, I think hewantsto be that prince, like he remembers he once was.
“I don’t need a prince. I’m perfectly happy with a knight,” I tell him.
His only reply is to push off the wall andcrouch down to busy himself with the packing. Resentment on his behalf rises within me, a volcano steaming. I glare down as I stand before him with the hand from my good side on my hip.
“I won’t force you to take a chance on what I know you feel between us, Jack, but are you really okay going the rest of your life shutting everyone out?”
“I’ve been surviving just fine.”
“Surviving isn’t living.”
His head snaps to me like I’ve just nicked his heart. But I’m glad. Maybe it’ll remind him that there’s a beating heart inside of him that deserves a chance at love and to be loved.
A heavy breath releases from his chest. His hands stop their jerky packing, and he looks up at me with pleading and agony in his gaze.
“I’m slow to process what’s going on inside me, Lo. Can we talk about this when we’re out of this place? Iwantto be the person you think is still buried inside me, but it might be too late to chase away the shadows keeping him chained.”
And I want so badly to tell him that I don’t need or want himfixedbefore he opens himself up. I’m a walking tornado of chaos and unsolicited fashion advice. We’d be the perfect pair, a safe space for the parts that might need healing. Don’t ask me how I’m desperately convinced of this after only four days of knowing each other. He feels like the puzzle piece my heart has been missing. We just fit.
“I just want what’s best for you. You’re a good man. And you deserve to be happy.”
“Before yesterday, I wasn’t sure I remembered what that could feel like.” He scoffs and resumes shoving clothes into his bag. My eyes flick to Marigold, who’s now empty, aside from my sleeping bag. He’s taken everything out and started repacking my things into his backpack.
“Jack, I’m carrying something.”
He’s silent, skillfully Tetris-ing things in with determination and a brooding scowl. Then he stands and holds a limp Marigold out for me to slide my arms into. My stomach does a swirl while my heart begs him to pull me closer. He slides a strip of fabric that looks like it’s from one of his shirts from his pocket, tying a makeshift sling for my arm before stepping away and shattering a piece of me.
“If it starts to hurt too badly, let me know,” he says, his eyes coiled with restraint and regret as he maps my injuries. “We have about two hours to walk to the dig site. I’d carry you out of here if I thought you’d let me. But I also think you’re safer with me until we can put some pieces together.”
“I’d only escape the second you put me down, so that’s very wise of you. I may be injured, but I’m just as determined as you are to see this through. This color looks good on you, by the way.” My hand moves forward to stroke the deep emerald T-shirt he’s wearing, my fascination with the feel of fabric making me almost forget about Jack’s boundaries as I wonder what other colors he has in his closet. I pull my hand away at the last second, reminding myself not to come on too strong. I should also ignore the tempting thought of letting him carry me out of here. As nice as that sounds, it would mean giving up. And I’m not ready to do that yet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The sun bites into my skin as it sneers from its looming angle above us, a magnetic force pulling my boots to the ground. The canyon is greedy for every step I take, making my calves ache in places I didn’t know had muscles. But I can’t stop or show weakness. Jack’s finger is just itching to call a helicopter and send me out of here after all of my unfortunate accidents, and maybe a little because I’ve basically forced him to confront his trauma.
What a great start to a relationship.
I roll my eyes at myself, tripping over a rock. Jack turns, flashing that guilty, concerned look at me.
“Stop trying to burn a hole through me with your eyes. I’m fine!” I snap a little too sharply. He steps forward, holding the back of his fingers to my forehead.
