The morning had passed in a blur of small tasks.Sabrina had showered while he cleaned up the kitchen, and then she'd emerged in borrowed clothes from the bag Bree had dropped off, her hair still damp and curling at the ends.They'd talked about nothing important, danced around the bigger questions, and eventually, the need for practical things had pushed them out the door.
She needed clothes.Basics.Underwear and socks, and something that belonged to her instead of someone else's closet.
"Sure you're up for this?"he asked, watching her face.
Sabrina stared out the windshield at the row of shops across the street.Copper Moon's main strip wasn't long, but it was busy today.Delivery trucks making rounds.Locals running errands.A couple of tourists were taking pictures of the storefronts, like the buildings might sprout legs and walk away if they didn't capture them fast enough.
"I need clothes," she said."I can't live in borrowed outfits forever.Bree will give me anything I ask for, but she has her own life and her own closet.I don't want to steal her entire wardrobe."
"Bree wouldn't mind," he said.
"That's not the point."She exhaled slowly, her breath fogging slightly against the window before fading."I've brushed my teeth without panicking this morning.I've walked across your living room without checking every corner for smoke.I can walk into a store and buy underwear like a normal human being.It's a low bar."
"Low bars count," he said."We'll keep it simple.In, out.If it's too much, we bail.No grades."
Her fingers fumbled with the seatbelt release."Right.No grades."
They crossed the street together.He matched his pace to hers, staying close without crowding.The clothing shop on the corner had decent basics; he'd seen Hank dragged through its doors more than once when Bree decided his wardrobe needed intervention.
They were three steps from the entrance when Sabrina's hand locked around his forearm.
She went still.Completely, utterly still, like someone had hit pause on her entire existence.Her breath froze in her chest, caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat.Her eyes fixed on something past him, past the shop, past everything he could see.
He followed her line of sight.
A man stood near the café across the street, phone pressed to his ear.Tall.Dark hair, cut neat like it had a standing appointment at an expensive barber.Jacket that probably cost more than Colby's entire wardrobe, good leather shoes, easy smile aimed at the barista who'd stepped outside to take a break.He turned his head, and Colby caught his profile.
At first glance, he looked like half the out-of-towners who came through Copper Moon with money and opinions.Nothing special.Nothing threatening.
But Sabrina's grip on his arm tightened until her nails bit through his sleeve.
Her lips barely moved."He's here."
Colby shifted his body, sliding a half-step to the side so he blocked her from view.His back to the man.His eyes on her.
"He can't see you right now," he said, keeping his voice low and even."You're behind me."
Her breathing went high and fast, shallow little gasps that weren't getting enough air."I didn't think...I thought I'd have more time."
"Look at me," he said."Not him.Me."
Her gaze jumped up to his.Fear sat there, sharp and raw, laced with something that looked like shame.Like she was embarrassed to be falling apart on a public sidewalk over a man who wasn't even looking in her direction.
"You want to go inside?"he asked."Or back to the truck?"
"Truck."The word scraped out of her, rough and desperate."Please."
"Okay."He kept his tone steady."Turn around.Don't look across the street.I've got you."
She nodded, barely.A tiny dip of her chin that might have been imperceptible to anyone watching.She turned, slowly, like her body had forgotten how to move, and pressed in closer to his side.Close enough that he could feel her trembling through the thin fabric of her borrowed shirt.Like she was trying to line her heartbeat up with his, to borrow some of his steadiness for herself.
He walked them back the way they'd come, his hand settling on the small of her back.Light pressure.Guiding without pushing.She stumbled once on a crack in the sidewalk, her ankle turning slightly, and he tightened his grip, held her upright.
He didn't look back at the café.Her reaction told him everything he needed to know.
By the time they reached his truck, her hands were shaking so hard she couldn't work the door handle.She yanked at it twice, her fingers slipping off the metal, before he gently moved her aside and opened it for her.
"In," he said.
