She studied the guys who were baiting their hooks. Wyatt was right. The tall guy was lankier than the one at the campground. And his blond friend had a beard, but it was too long to be the guy she remembered.
What had she been thinking? “You’re right.”
Wyatt’s hand fell from his hip. His body lost some of that rigid alertness as he assessed her. “You’re white as a sheet.” He took her hand and gave a tug.
That was all it took. She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his chest. “What’s wrong with me? I’m losing it. My heart’s beating so fast.”
“You’re fine.” Without letting her go he lifted her wrist and took her pulse, holding her hand almost as if they were dancing.
“Purse your lips,” he said against her temple. “Breathe through your mouth real slow. You’re all right. Nothing bad is going to happen.”
She’d forgotten about that little breathing trick. It helped. As did knowing Wyatt was here and would protect her. Since when had she been so dependent on a man? But right now, security meant more to her than independence.
The panic was subsiding, embarrassment creeping in. This was the second time he’d found her like this. And this time she’d freaked out over nothing. He probably thought she was a real nut job.
He let go of her wrist and rubbed her back. “Better?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“I feel stupid.”
He leaned back, taking her face in his hands, searching her eyes. “Does this happen often?”
She gave a wry laugh. “What, seeing things or flipping out?”
He waited silently for her response.
“It’s a new thing. You’re just lucky enough to be around when it does happen.”
“I think you’re having panic attacks, Grace. You should see a doctor.”
“You’re probably right. But I feel much better now.”
He held her gaze for another moment, as if appraising her assertion. Then he dropped a soft kiss on her lips and let her go.
When he knelt she saw he’d dropped the bags.
“Our food.” She bent down to help.
“No harm. It’s well packaged.” When it was all collected and put back in the bags, they stood.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?”
Grace surveyed the park. It was private and quiet and beautiful. But the peace had been ruined for her. “Would you mind?”
Wyatt gave her a little smile. “I know just the place.”
***
Wyatt pulled his car into the turnout at Summit Ridge and turned off his car. He’d found the overlook this weekend when he was out driving. It had a pavilion, much like the one they’d spent the night in, and several picnic tables, all of them empty now.
“This is perfect,” Grace said. “My favorite vista in the whole area. We’ll get to watch the sunset again.”
He helped her from the car. She seemed a lot steadier. Her face had lost that ghostly pallor, her eyes no longer wide and frightened. He hated seeing her like that. Would do anything in his power to keep it from happening again.
As far as the food went, he’d asked Della if he could order something off the menu for their picnic.
