Page 96 of Halo

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. These boots—” she winces—“are sitting boots.”

“Sitting boots?”

“You know? There are climbing boots, riding boots, hiking boots. These are—”

“Sitting boots, gotcha.” I chuckle. “Well, we've gotta fix that.”

Before she can take another step, I slip one arm beneath her knees and lift, my other arm catching her against my chest.

“Nick!” she squeals.

“What?"

“Warn a woman! You can't just pick people up! Especially people carrying drinks!”

“I think I just did.”

She chuckles nervously. “Put me down. Seriously, I'm way too heavy."

I blink, then look down at her. “That is … wildly insulting. Don't worry; I gotcha.”

She laughs, clutching the Whataburger bags against her chest before looping an arm around my neck.

The elevator doors slide open.

Still smiling, I carry her inside.

Chapter 23

Leah

“You're really not going to give me a hint, are you?"

Nick only smiles, shaking his head as the elevator doors slide shut behind us. The gentle hum of the cables fills the silence while the floor numbers steadily climb.

I should probably be more concerned about the fact that this man is carrying me bridal style like I weigh nothing. He doesn't so much as adjust his grip. Not a grunt. Not a wobble. Not even a bead of sweat. His arms are steady beneath me, his chest warm and solid against my shoulder, and for reasons I can't quite explain, I've never felt safer.

My eyes drift to his mouth.

Goodness ...

I've spent entirely too much time wondering what those lips would feel like against mine. The thought alone sends a slow warmth curling low in my stomach.

The elevator dings.

Nick looks down at me with that crooked smile, his bright eyes already dancing with mine. “You ready?”

Butterflies take flight somewhere beneath my ribs as I nod.

The doors slide open, and he carries me into a quiet hallway. We weave through a couple of turns before long windows replace solid walls revealing the Houston skyline glowing in the distance against the December night. I hadn't realized we'd climbed this high. We were practically on top of the hospital.

At the end of the corridor, Nick stops in front of an unassuming glass door. He lowers me to my feet, keeping one hand at my elbow until I'm steady. “You ready?” With a mischievous grin, he swipes his badge.

The door swings open to a garden inside of a glass atrium. Winding stone paths curve through flower beds kept alive despite the season. Benches are scattered beneath small ornamental trees, and somewhere near the center, a quiet fountain sends water trickling over smooth stones.

I slowly wander around the walkway, forgetting all about my aching feet. "It's beautiful …”