“Yeah, but I can’t just—"
I could though. That was exactly the kind of thing I would do. Pack up my whole life and move to a shifter town in Alaska after visiting for twenty-four hours.
A familiar spark of excitement lit inside me, burning away some of the pain. That jolt in my chest intensified the sensation, and I slapped a hand over my breasts, feeling overwhelmed.
Rhett’s thumb was still caressing my face.
This didn’t feel fake.
It didn’t feel finished.
But what if he was wrong? What if I was clinging to someone who was too kind to see me for what I was?
Maybe I needed to stop looking for the place—and the person—that was my perfect fit and work on fitting myself into the rest of the world.
My spark died, doused by the icy wind.
“I can give you some cash for gas if you bring me back to Fairbanks today. My flight is in a few days, and I’m sure you want your life back.”
Rhett’s expression shuttered, the angles of his face firm and stoic as always.
“Let me buy you some lunch first.”
I snorted. “Didn’t we just eat breakfast? Do shifters really have that big of an appetite? Seems like you would spend half your day eating.”
His mask slipped for half a second, his smile sheepish. “It’s going to take a long time to get back to Fairbanks in this weather. Just making sure we don’t end up surviving on gummy worms again.”
Ah, right. How very practical of him. Without him, I would have been stuck on the side of the road during a blizzard, hoping to find crumbs on the floor of a rental car to keep me alive.
We got back in the car, my body tired from the earlier adrenaline. I leaned my head against the window, watching fat snowflakes cling to each other and fall in clumps.
Soon I was sitting upright again, my energy returning in nervous waves as the wind whipped snow across the road, making it almost impossible to see the black surface underneath. More than once, Rhett had to slow for a turn, skirting the edge of a steep hill I hadn’t noticed on the way here.
“Those trees would stop the car from falling if we went off the road, right?”
He grunted a response, determined not to find out.
“I’m once again glad you’re the one driving.”
After what felt like hours of nail-biting turns, the road straightened, widening as we neared a county road. Through the wind and the snow, I could just make out hints of the yellow line dividing lanes—and the flashing orange light that I was unfortunately familiar with now.
Rhett cursed. “I didn’t think it would come down so fast.”
“I’ve got Déjà vu.”
He put the car in reverse, the tires skidding and sliding with the effort. “We’re going to have to wait it out again.”
“Um, I didn’t see any conveniently placed motels in the trees back there.”
“I know a place.”
A few minutes later we were pulling off the road again, evergreen branches screeching as they dragged against the sides of the SUV. Rhett stopped in the middle of the narrow lane, parking and squeezing between the door and the seat as the foliage blocked us in.
“Put on your hat and gloves. We’re going to have to walk from here.”
I scanned the road ahead, trying to figure out where exactly we were walking to. As far as I could see, there was nothing but trees and snow.
“Is this the part where you add me to the higher than average list of missing people?”
