But then the distance yawned again, opening up this fissure between them that she couldn’t cross without different equipment, skills she didn’t have at her disposal.
Bleakness pulled at his expression. “I can’t do this again, Sabrina. I need more than words in a hospital room.”
The truth in his statement stung, but she couldn’t deny it. “What can I do, Noah?”
His eyes softened marginally. “I don’t know. Focus on getting better. We can talk after you’re discharged.”
“Noah—”
“I’ll keep Ripley,” he said, pausing at the threshold. “Until you’re back home.”
And then he was gone, leaving Sabrina with the echo of all the things she hadn’t managed to say. No, she’d said them.
Noah hadn’t wanted to hear them.
* * *
Noah dumped his cold coffee into the kitchen sink and stepped back onto the porch, restlessness driving him to move, to do something other than replay the look on Sabrina’s face in that hospital room on an endless loop. The evening light painted golden stripes across the training yard, burnishing the equipment to copper.
Dancer lay at his feet, but his usually steady partner kept glancing toward Ripley, who prowled the yard perimeter with the nervous energy of a dog who sensed something wrong in her world.
Smart dog. Everythingwaswrong.
Sabrina’s voice echoed in his head, those three devastating words that should have been cause for celebration.
I love you.
Said in that clear, fierce voice that matched the fire in her eyes. The same fire that had drawn him that first day at the recovery site. The fire that had been missing when she’d walked away from him and his too-fast, too-much declaration.
Too much. That was the story of his life, wasn’t it? All throttle, no brakes, Hurricane Noah roaring ashore and leaving people scattered in his wake.
Except Sabrina hadn’t scattered. She’d been right there in front of him, saying the very words he’d been aching to hear.
And he’d walked away.
Because hearing those words now—after a near-death experience—triggered something in him. What had changed? Why was the offer of his entire soul good enough now, but it hadn’t been a week ago?
Dancer’s head came up sharply, ears perked toward the front of the property. A moment later, Ripley’s stance mirrored his, both dogs alert and focused on the same thing.
Noah’s heart rate spiked, his body instantly ahead of his brain. Because his body knew who was on his doorstep before conscious thought could form.
Sabrina.
Everything in him lurched toward her, even as caution kept his feet planted.
The sharp knock confirmed it. Noah inhaled deeply, pulling oxygen into lungs that suddenly felt starved, and headed for the door. He passed his reflection in the hall mirror, hair sticking up from where he’d raked his hands through it, jaw darkened with stubble, eyes hollow with a night’s worth of replayed arguments with himself.
Perfect. Just how he wanted to look when facing the woman who held his heart in her hands.
When he opened the door, Ripley shot past him, nearly knocking Sabrina over in her enthusiasm. Her laugh, that rich, throaty sound he still heard in his sleep, curled around his heart like a fist. Like it always had. Like it always would.
“You should be resting,” he said, fighting the urge to drag her into his arms and make sure she was real. That she was here. That she was okay.
“I’m fine.” She knelt to greet Ripley, fingers finding the dog’s sweet spots with the ease of true partnership. When she straightened, her eyes locked with his, steady and sure. “Noah, I need to talk to you.”
He crossed his arms, a flimsy barrier against the hope threatening to crack him open. “I’m listening.”
“Not here.” She gestured toward his living room. “Can we sit?”
