Page 134 of Silent Shadows

Which is impressive, because expectations were already very low.

The sagebrush and pines swallow us within the first mile, the trail narrowing from dirt path to animal track, then to a vague suggestion made by someone who hates ankles. Mist clings to the low spots and the air smells like wet leaves, cold mineral soil, and something faintly sour underneath.

The mud starts as an inconvenience. Then becomes a slurpy, borderline painful, mucky mess.

By the time we reach the lower basin, every step makes an obscene sucking noise. Jax has stopped speaking entirely, which would be concerning if it weren’t also the greatest gift nature has ever given me.

Daisy, however, has plenty to say about the terrain. And all of it’s profane.

“This is the fucking worst,” she growls, yanking one boot free with a wet pop.

I turn back. “You good?”

“Do I look good?”

Silly question.

Her cheeks are flushed from exertion, a streak of mud cuts across one temple, and her hair is coming loose from its tie in a way that makes me want to tuck it behind her ear and also kiss her and also walk into traffic.

“You look…” I stop. Because Taylor is behind me. Maya is behind her. Jax may be pretending not to listen, but he absolutely is. “Fine,” I finish.

Daisy stares at me. “Fine?”

“Terrain-wise.”

“Wow.”

“That came out wrong.”

“Did it?”

“Apparently.”

Jax mutters, “Flawless recovery.”

We continue trudging through the sandy, muddy mess until Daisy takes one step too close to the edge, hitting a slick patch of mud, and suddenly, she’s sliding sideways.

I catch her before I think.

One hand around her wrist, the other at her waist.

Her body collides with mine, and for one suspended second, the forest narrows to the feel of her under my hands. My thumb flexes at her waist. There’s mud on her cheek. A loose strand of hair sticks to her lower lip. Her eyes lift to mine.

Bad. This is bad. This is extremely, professionally, catastrophically bad.

“Thanks,” she whispers.

I clear my throat and let go like she’s burned me. “Just watch your footing, okay?”

Her eyebrow twitches, knowing I don’t mean it. “Do I look fragile to you?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“But you do look accident-prone.”

Her mouth falls open.