He pulls away first, steps back fast, shaking out his hands.
"Like that." His voice is strained. "You'll get the hang of it."
He crosses to the other end of the garden and puts twenty feet between us.
I stare at my hands. My fingers are still tingling.
We work in silence for an hour.
The cold creeps in despite the flannel. I shed the too-big gloves to get a better grip on the roots, and the chill numbs my fingers within minutes.
I'm reaching for a stubborn vine, twisting to get the angle right, when the pull catches my shoulder wrong.
I hiss through my teeth.
Diesel goes still.
Not quiet. Still.
"What."
"Nothing. I just—" I reach again, and this time I can't hide the wince. The wound is screaming, and I want to scream with it—not from pain but from frustration. I was so caught up in doing something normal that I forgot. For one whole hour, I forgot someone tried to kill me.
I can't even pull weeds without my body reminding me.
He's across the garden before I can tell him I'm fine.
"Let me see."
"It's nothing, I just pulled it—"
"Eden."
I stop arguing.
His fingers find the collar of the flannel and ease it aside. Barely a touch. The t-shirt beneath has shifted, exposing the edge of the bandage.
"I need to check it." His voice scrapes low. "Make sure you didn't tear it open."
I should say no, should step back and handle it myself like I did before I ended up on the bathroom floor.
I nod.
His fingers brush the edge of the bandage, impossibly gentle for hands that size. He peels back the corner, and I close my eyes against the sting—against the warmth of his knuckles grazing my skin.
"It's not bleeding." His thumb traces the edge of the medical tape, pressing it back down. "Just inflamed."
I should move, put space between us.
I don't.
"The safe house?" His voice is quiet. He's still looking at the bandage, not me. "How'd it happen?"
I don't have to answer. He's not asking as her protector, not gathering intel. He's just asking.
"I was half asleep when it happened." The words come easier than I expected. "They'd put on some stupid action movie. Explosions. Gunfire. I didn't realize the bangs weren't coming from the TV until Greer was already down."
His hand stills on my shoulder.
