Page 27 of The Deadly Shallows

Brushing her hair behind her ear, she opened it before he reached for the handle. “Hey,” she said, his handsome face leaving her a bit breathless. Then, again, it always had—even when he annoyed the heck out of her.

“Hey.” He smiled, then frowned. “Where’s your sling?”

“I couldn’t sleep with it. Took it off, and I’m good.”

He cocked his head.

“It’s all good. Just a little sore.”

He inspected her shoulder.

“Stop,” she said, shooing his glance away with her hand.

“Fine,” he said, chuckling. “I’m just glad to hear you were able to rest.”

She bit her bottom lip. Rest certainly wasn’t the term she’d use.

Concern erased his smile. “That bad, huh?”

She shrugged her good shoulder. “Yeah . . .”

“Nightmares?”

She nodded, hoping he didn’t delve deeper than that. She’d relived the terror last night—woke drenched with sweat and trembling.

He slipped his long fingers through hers, startling her in a good way, as he took hold of her hand. “I’ll pray harder.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Thanks.”

He looked past her at Dirk, and she turned to see her buddy lumbering along, his belly sliding across the kitchen floor.

“How’s the pup today?” he asked.

Sadness and worry swelled inside. “Not any better, I’m afraid.”

“What time’s your appointment?”

“Four. I’ll swing back and pick him up.” She grabbed her keys. Finn had cleared her purse after she’d left it at the shooting, and Gabby had kindly dropped it by the hospital for her. “Should we head out?”

“After you,” he said, gesturing toward the door. Always such a gentleman. An impossible man when they first collided, but a gentleman all the same. But something had changed. He hadn’t, but she saw past the stubbornness to his heart, and what she saw was captivating.

She stepped outside, and he followed. After she locked her door, he gestured for ladies first.

Angling her neck to slip her crossbody purse strap over her head, she winced.

“Let me help you,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“Here.” He took the strap from her hand, lifted her hair in one hand, his fingers brushing her neck.

Gooseflesh rippled her skin.

He paused. “You cold?”

She swallowed. “Uh-huh . . .” If she thought about it, she was . . . a little. And it sounded a whole lot better than, No, your touch just rippled my senses.

“I have an extra coat in the car. It’s a lot thicker than yours.”