I managed one more breath before someone knocked it out of me with a full-body tackle. I fell backward, landing hard on the rocks. Then Juliette was in my lap, clutching me to her, pressing kisses over my cheeks.
My arms wound around her back, and I closed my eyes, heart still pounding, so grateful.
Thank you, God. Thank you.
Chapter Six
GRIFFIN
Juliette didn’t let go of me the entire way back to the campsite. If she wasn’t holding my hand, her arm was around my waist. And she hardly said a word. Just kept glancing over at me like I might vanish.
A middle-aged couple had heard what happened and insisted on feeding us. We ended up in camp chairs in front of their RV. We both had a plateful of steaming hot food in our laps—Dutch Oven Chicken and something called Cowboy Potatoes—loaded with bacon, peas, and gooey cheddar cheese.
I was still in my swim trunks and damp T-shirt. Juliette had shivered uncontrollably in her soaked tank top until I helped her peel it off, leaving just her bikini top. Now she sat next to me in her bikini top and running shorts, the setting sun on her shoulders.
Word had gotten around and strangers kept stopping by to thank us for our bravery. I tried to make small talk, but every time I looked at her, the words dried up. She’d hardly touched her food. Just stared at it, her foot hooked around my ankle.
Solstice, the British woman and co-owner of the camper, stepped outside with two paper bowls of some kind of dessert, each topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream. “Right, who’s up for a bit of apple crisp then?”
“You don’t need to do that,” I said. “It was nice of you to share your dinner with us. Not sure I’ve ever eaten anything more delicious.” I winked. “Don’t tell my mom.”
“Oi, you—quit that.” She pursed her lips. “It was nothing. We were happy to do it.”
Solstice’s German husband, Leif, came out of the camper and nodded at Juliette. “I think she might be in shock, ja?”
I thought so too. “Jules,” I said, the nickname slipping off my tongue like I’d called her that for years. “Let’s go to the hospital and make sure you’re all right.” It was the third time I’d suggested it.
“No.” She smiled, but it trembled at the edges. “I’ll be fine. I just need a few minutes.” Her smile faded, and she stared at her food like she wasn’t fully there.
“A warm shower might be just the thing,” Solstice suggested, setting the desserts on a log by our feet.
Leif jingled his keys. “We’re going to the store to get some provisions for breakfast. Why not use our shower, eh?”
“No.” I waved them off. “That’s okay?—”
“Nonsense,” Solstice said. “You Americans and your fuss about manners. Just use our shower. You’ll feel a lot better when you’re clean and dry. We’ve got all the bits you need—shampoo, conditioner, body wash. Use whatever you like.”
“Clean towels are in the cabinet in the hall,” Leif said.
“Yes, sir. Thank you both so much.”
They walked away holding hands.
“He is such a gentleman,” Solstice whispered to Leif. “Reminds me of you.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple. They turned the corner and were gone.
Juliette was still in a daze. I set her plate on the chair next to mine. Then I stood, leaned down, and took her by the hands.
She looked up at me, her eyes so big and sad.
“Come on.” I squeezed her fingers. “Let’s get you clean.”
Inside, as I searched for the towel cabinet, she huddled next to me, delicate hands hooked around my arm like she was afraid to let go of me. When I reached into the tiny shower to turn it on, she leaned with me, her fingers locked around my bicep.
It took a while for the water to heat, but when it finally did, I opened the curtain just enough for her. “I’ll wait on the couch,” I said. I took a step back, though my body screamed to stay.
She just stood there, lips trembling, hugging herself, looking panicked.
