Page 21 of Nothing But Air

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. It’s very dry and hot. Classic Arizona.”

Eden’s eyes flashed. “There’s something off about Marcus Roosevelt.”

“I noticed.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Then why did you volunteer?”

“Because Noah’s still healing from a knife wound. Liam’s distracted with Nimue—and if she has to leave, he’ll be a wreck.” Teague studied her face, reading the tension around her eyes, the way her hands were clenched into fists. “Besides. If Marcus is hiding something, I’d rather find out what it is myself than let him put anyone else at risk.” He looked away and drew a deep breath, then locked eyes with her again. “You saw it too. Whatever he’s not telling us.”

“Yes.” Frustration broke through her careful control. “Which is exactly why you shouldn’t go with him. Alone. Into the backcountry. When he’s clearly got a hidden agenda.”

“I can handle myself.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“The point”—she stepped closer, eyes blazing in the afternoon light—“is that you’re doing it again. Volunteering for the dangerous job because you think your life matters less than everyone else’s.”

Teague’s chest tightened. The accusation landed too close to something he didn’t want to examine. “That’s not why I’m doing this.”

“Isn’t it?” She held his gaze. Unflinching.

“I’m the best qualified.” The words came out with a bite. “I know the terrain. I have the technical skills—whether you believe in me or not. And yeah, I don’t have anyone depending on me right now. That makes me the logical choice.”

“Logical.” Eden’s laugh was bitter. “That’s what you’re calling it?”

“What would you call it?”

“Reckless. Self-destructive. Take your pick.”

“You like to use those words a lot for someone who’s known me less than six months.”

“Long enough to see the pattern.” She stepped close enough that he caught the faint scent of floral shampoo. “You volunteer for every dangerous assignment. You take risks that make everyone else hold their breath. And you act like it doesn’t matter if you come back.”

“I always come back.”

“So far.”

The words hung between them.

“Why does it matter to you?” The frustration he’d been holding for two days finally broke loose. “You’ve made it pretty clear you don’t want anything to do with me. That you’re done caring about people who take risks.” He drew a deep breath but didn’t look away. “So why are you out here, Eden? Why do you care if I volunteer for this?”

Eden flinched.

“I never said…” She stopped. Started again. “I don’t want to watch another person I…”

She stopped again. Her jaw clenched hard. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

The almost-confession hung between them, heavy with everything she wasn’t saying.

Another person I?—

What? Care about? Love?

Teague’s heart hammered against his ribs. He wanted to push—to make her finish that sentence—but the wall was back up in her eyes.