She was getting the hang of this.
Chapter 24
He blinked up at the treetops silhouetted against the pale gray sky, like some intricate lace woven by Mother Nature herself. One of a kind. The wind shifted it, changed the pattern, drew dry sounds from the pine needles, rubbed branches together, scratching and clacking like brittle bones. Winter’s wind chimes.
He focused back in on Leo, who shook her head, muttering to herself—maybe to him, though he couldn’t quite catch individual words. He smiled. He got the meaning well enough. Whatever she was saying was punctuated bytsking sounds that he liked. All he could see was the top of her hood. He reached up and pushed it back to get a better look. Or to hear her better. Both.
She went utterly still when his fingers touched her hair, caressed it. He wanted to feel it against his cheek. His lips. His chest.
Though she didn’t push his hand off, she cast him an impatient glance and kept working, so pretty and delicate and strong, her features set in concentration. He liked that look—pure, single-minded absorption, focused on him. Imagine how that would feel under other circumstances.If they weren’t running for their lives, but had united for real. On purpose, instead of randomly thrown together. If that enthralled look were for him, instead of his wound.
Leo pursed her lips. “‘Just a scratch,’ he said. This is not just a scratch,Elias Thorne.”
“Sure it is,” he said with a smile.
“If you keep bleeding, you’ll need stitches.” She turned to rummage in the first aid kit again. “Now, why’s this feel like déjà vu?”
“Stitches? Didn’t seem that bad to me.”
“Of course not.” She let out another annoyed series oftsks.
Whatever she did made him groan, the pain shooting out to hit every nerve in his body. The next time he opened his eyes, her face was right above his, hovering.
He blinked. Had it gotten darker out?
No, they needed to get over that rise today, to a semisheltered spot and a defensible position.
He tried to crane his neck toward the west. Where was the damn sun?
“Gotta move.” His mouth was cotton, the words barely intelligible, his arms and legs too heavy.
“Drink.” She thrust a canteen in his face. “No more walking today, big guy. I used the last of the butterfly bandages, so let’s try to keep you in one piece, okay?”
He struggled to sit and took a sip of water, squinting at her. “Should have packed more butterfly bandages.”
“Or—bear with me here—we could stop getting hurt.” She smirked and stuck out her tongue.
He yawned so wide it cracked his jaw.
When she did the same, he chuckled, which made her laugh and thwack him lightly on the arm. The laugh died, leaving something else between them. Something warm and new.
I like her.The thought was so sudden and out of the blue that he could do nothing but blink dumbly for a while.
She lifted her head, showing him the sharp triangle of her chin, a tiny, warm piece of her throat, and all he could think was that he bet she’d taste good there, in that sweet, private little spot.
And though there was nothing sexual about that place, just the image of touching it with his tongue sent a strange mix of guilt and desire through him, so strong he had to clear his throat and stand.
Maybe he more than liked her.
“So, Mr. Prepared Man. You got another yeti cave close by or are we gonna have to sleep under the stars tonight?”
Sleeping. Beside her. Even with the pain in his side, he looked forward to it.
He shook his head.
She threw him a curious look. “Okay. So, camp outside?”
“Keep going. Next rise is more easily defensible. We can stay there. Take turns keeping watch.” Which meant no cozying up together.
