He gives me a nod before he opens the outer door again, and a final rush of wind annihilates what is left of my hairstyle.
Well, I tried.
Left once more in silence, I turn to the wide windows that face the helipad, watching the chopper rise into the air.
A moment later, I realize that I’m standing not on cold tiles but on wooden floorboards.
I curl my toes into them, loving the natural texture beneath my feet. It reminds me of the mountain.
Striker said I’d like the floor. I wasn’t expecting to like it quite so much already.
I pull the pins from my hair and leave them on the windowsill, allowing my crimson locks to uncurl and fall to my waist.
I suddenly inhale the scent of cedarwood, stronger than on the mountain.
My breathing pauses for a beat before it resumes.
“Not many people can do that,” I say, remaining exactly where I am.
Nobodyelse can do that.
Striker’s voice is rough, a growl that makes my heartthud.
The proximity of his voice tells me he has remained at the far side of the room. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I smile at the idea that he thinks he crept up on me when what I meant was much more honest.
He made my heartbeat kick like a happy drum inside my chest.
I finally turn, the dress he gave me swishing around my legs and my hair sliding to the side as I tilt my head a little to see him.
He stands completely in the light, wearing a dark gray suit that is clearly tailored to his build. I’d heard he was using crutches for a while, but now they’re nowhere to be seen.
He looks healthy. Content.
His chest rises with an inhaled breath that stops as his gaze drops carefully to my toes, his lips rising into a faint smile when he takes in my bare feet.
He resumes breathing.
“I do,” I say, stepping toward him, answering the question within his thoughts. “Like the floor.”
“I’m glad.” His eyes crinkle at the corners. “But I’d forgotten how you can read a situation in a single glance.”
He hadn’t forgotten the fact of it, but how much it takes his breath away.
I read his next thought on the heels of the first, stepping toward him and extending my hand. “Yes, I’d like that.”
A sudden broad smile breaks across his face, and a laugh rumbles through his chest. It’s an unexpectedly contagious sound, and now I’m the one whose breath is snatched from their chest.
Have I ever heard him laugh?
He takes one look at my face, and his smile increases. “I think I should store this moment away as a treasured memory since I seem to have surprised you for some reason. I have no idea why, but I’m sure it doesn’t happen often.”
As I continue to stare at him with wide eyes, he asks, “May I take your hand?”
I bite my lip. “You already have my answer.”
He slides his hand around mine. His grip is firm and strong, remarkably even stronger than before. His thumb grazes the back of my hand, and a shiver rocks me so hard that I tremble.
