It had probably been almost a decade since I’d seen her, but I would have recognized that face anywhere.She had the same wide green eyes that used to watch everything and everyone from the edges of the room.Her blonde hair was shorter, and she'd filled out since I'd seen her last, but it was her.No question about it.
"Torin?"Her voice was full of surprise and something else I couldn't name.
"Yeah."I stepped closer, assessing the situation with the part of my brain that still functioned."Want to tell me why you’re breaking into your own family’s house?”
She turned her attention back to the window.“No, but thanks for asking.”
I couldn’t leave her like that, halfway in and halfway out.Not with the snow starting to come down.“Are you planning on hanging out there, or should I help you the rest of the way through?"
"I don’t need help.I’ve got it all under control."
“Yeah, I can see that.”I bit back a grin as she continued to struggle.There was no way she was getting through that window without some help.
She glared at me, but there was no real anger in it.Her hands gripped the window frame, her knuckles white, and that's when I saw the blood.
My chest tightened."Hell, you're hurt."
"It's nothing."
"Claire—"
"I cut it on the way in.It's fine."
It wasn't fine.I could see the dark smear across her palm even in the dim light, and the way she was holding herself told me she'd been stuck there longer than she wanted to admit.
I moved without thinking, closing the distance between us."Let me help."
"I don't need?—"
"Humor me."
She let out a frustrated huff, but she didn't argue.I braced one hand on the wall next to her and reached for her waist with the other, my fingers settling against warm skin where her sweater had ridden up.She stiffened.
"Easy," I said, keeping my voice low."On three.One, two?—"
I lifted, and she pushed, and between the two of us she slid through the window in an awkward tumble that ended with her landing hard on the floor inside.I heard the impact, followed by another curse.
"Are you okay?"
"Just peachy."
She was still full of that sass that used to get her in trouble back in high school.I bit back a smile and moved toward the front door.It took her a few seconds to get there, and when she unlocked it from the inside and pulled, the door didn't budge.
"It's stuck," she said, sounding defeated."I tried earlier.That's why I used the window."
"Step back."
She did, and I put my shoulder into it.The door gave with a groan and a shower of paint flakes, swinging inward to reveal the dark hallway beyond.Claire stood just inside, cradling her injured hand against her chest, and I got my first good look at her in years.
Damn, she was beautiful.
Not the kind of beautiful I’d seen on magazine covers, but the kind that burrowed into my chest and stayed there.I wanted to run my hands over her soft curves and pull her into me.She looked tired, the bone-deep kind, but there was a stubborn set to her jaw that I remembered from when she was younger.
"You're bleeding on the floor," I said.
She glanced down at the dark spots on the hardwood."I'll clean it up."
"After I bandage that hand."
