For a moment, he didn’t move, just stood there in the doorway, his eyes dark as they held hers. The air thickened, heavy with all the things they weren’t saying.
Then he cleared his throat. “I’ll hit my shower. Make yourself at home.”
He turned and walked to his bedroom, his stride clipped, his shoulders tense like he was holding himself back.
Isla shut the guestroom door behind her and leaned against it for a second, willing her pulse to settle. She had to shake it off. Had to stop picturing Garrett naked just up the hall.
They’d never made it all the way to lovers when they were teenagers, but they’d come close enough. Close enough that she’d seen enough of him to know the memory wasn’t one she’d ever erase. And now it threatened to come roaring back with every glance, every accidental brush of contact.
She muttered to herself, shook her head, and went to the shower. Hot water helped clear the chill and some of the tension, though it didn’t wipe away the ache of old memories.
By the time she dressed and stepped back into the main part of the cabin, Garrett was in the kitchen. He stood at the counter, hair damp, shoulders broad under a black tee, nuking two breakfast sandwiches he’d pulled from the freezer. The hum of the microwave filled the silence, and the smell of egg and sausage drifted through the air.
Isla leaned against the doorway, watching him at the counter. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to cook.”
Garrett slid her a long look, slow and deliberate, the corner of his mouth barely tipping. Heat curled through her chest at the weight of it, more than she wanted to feel.
Then, the microwave beeped, cutting through the moment. He turned back, pulling out the sandwiches and wrapping them in paper towels. Without a word, he grabbed two go cups of coffee from the counter, steam curling from the lids.
“Breakfast of champions,” he said, handing her one of each.
She took them, fingers brushing his for a second too long.
They slipped on their coats, balancing coffee and sandwiches as they headed for the door. A few minutes later, they stepped outside. The sun had climbed higher, softening the edge of the cold, but the air still nipped at Isla’s skin as they crossed to the SUV.
They climbed into the SUV, settling their coffee and sandwiches as Garrett pulled onto the road. The hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of the tires filled the quiet while they ate.
Her phone buzzed at the same time his did. A joint text from Cal.Doctor just checked Trudy. She’s doing good. Stable. Still hurting though. Doc says he’s not even going to speculate on when she’ll be released.
Isla exhaled, relief loosening her shoulders. “That won’t please her,” she murmured. “She’ll be itching to get back to the ranch.”
The thought twisted, and she frowned. “Or maybe not. Maybe she’ll have flashbacks and nightmares of the attack. It could change everything for her.”
Garrett nodded, his gaze fixed on the road. “When she’s released, I’ll stay with her for a while.”
“I will too,” Isla said quickly, without hesitation.
His glance cut to her, brief but sharp. A look that reminded her of their being under the same roof came with its own weight. Flashbacks. Memories. Temptations.
Isla looked away, sipped her coffee, and told herself she could handle all of it. She was almost sure she believed that. Almost.
Garrett’s phone buzzed again, the sound sharp in the quiet cab. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening. “It’s Sheriff Raines. He’s asking if we’re en route to see Anais yet.”
“Did you tell him about the call?” Isla asked.
“I texted him right after she hung up.” Garrett tapped the screen and switched to voice command. “Reply to Raines. We’re en route. We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
The phone chimed, message sent. A second later it buzzed again. Garrett read the sheriff’s reply. “Raines wants to debrief with him after we’ve talked to Anais and Leah.” He activated the mic once more. “Reply to Raines. Understood. We’ll meet you at your office after San Antonio.”
He set the phone back in the console, his gaze fixed on the road. “He’s interviewing Paula around the same time we’ll be with Anais. Then he’s stopping by the hospital to check on Trudy.”
The SUV settled into silence again, the weight of both meetings hanging heavy between them.
Garrett kept the SUV steady on the road, the silence broken only by the low hum of the engine. Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to a gated neighborhood with a sign arched overhead in elegant script:Crestwood Park Estates.A uniformed guard stepped out of the booth, clipboard in hand.
Garrett lowered his window. “Garrett McCall. Anais Hayes is expecting us.”
The guard checked his notes and nodded. “She called ahead. Said you’d be coming.” He lifted the gate with a smooth wave of his hand. “Go on through.”
