Page 85 of The SEAL and the Sheriff

She sighed softly. “You’re impossible.”

He gave a rumbling chuckle that went straight to her belly. “So I’ve been told.”

She turned her back to him so he could help her with the jacket.

Instead of trying to force her injured arm through the sleeve, he eased it onto that side first before guiding the fabric across her back. He settled the jacket across her shoulders, then smoothed the sleeves as though making sure nothing pulled against her bruises.

Then he lifted the ballistic vest and settled it over her jacket, fastening the straps. He checked the fit at her sides, making sure it sat snug without pressing against her bruised ribs.

His hands lingered for the briefest second at her elbows. Those hands had carried her to bed yesterday and held her face this morning as though she was something precious enough to protect and strong enough to choose.

Her lips still remembered the kiss.

She turned and flattened the collar of his shirt where it had folded beneath his jacket.

Her fingers brushed warm skin at the base of his throat. His eyes lifted to hers. Neither of them moved.

“There,” she said.

For a second he looked surprised she’d touched him at all. Then the corners of his eyes softened.

She dropped her hand before she could think too hard about why she’d done it. She handed him the cruiser keys. “You ready?”

“No.”

She shook her head, smiling. “Me neither.”

Walter’s voice carried from outside. “Search and Rescue’s here.”

Reality came back all at once. Sarah drew a slow breath, planted her hat on her head and opened the door.

Hudson waited for her to go first, then followed her out.

Sarah sat in the passenger seat while Hudson pulled the cruiser onto the snow-covered road. Cord sat handcuffed in the rear, staring through the side window as though he could somehow will the miles to disappear. Walter drove behind with Statton and Miller.

The cruiser sluiced through puddles of snowmelt that would refreeze by nightfall. The spruce drew closer as the road narrowed into little more than twin tracks winding through the forest. The deeper they drove, the more the world seemed to muffle itself.

Sarah studied the map spread across her knee. Cord had given them a location. Now she prayed they weren’t too late.

Walter’s voice crackled through the radio. “Alaska State Troopers are en route. A couple of hours out.”

Sarah lifted the handset. “If Nora’s alive, she doesn’t have two hours.”

Walter didn’t argue. “Search and Rescue is staging with EMS a mile back.”

“Good.”

Hudson glanced sideways.

“I’m fine, Hudson.”

He reached across and squeezed her knee, never looking away from the road. His touch was brief, but warmth lingered where his hand had been.

The rest of the drive passed in silence.

Hudson’s hands rested lightly on the wheel, shoulders loose, breathing slow, his expression giving nothing away. But she sensed the change. His focus. The man who’d smiled against her mouth had stepped aside for the operator beneath.

Cord leaned forward from the back seat. “Here. Slow.”