Only then did he step inside and turn around.
He stood just inside the entrance, one hand still low beside his thigh, his attention not fully leaving the dark beyond the canvas.
“It’s still there,” I said.
“Moving toward the thicket.” His thumb stayed near the safety. “It wasn’t hunting us. We were inside its range.”
“I don’t like being an obstacle.”
His gaze finally cut to mine. Slowly. “Then don’t stand against a thin piece of mesh dressed like that.”
Mm. I’d rather be hunted by the man than the cat.
I folded my arms, the cotton of my tank top a thin, useless barrier against the sharpening chill.
“Well,” I said softly. “That was educational.”
He turned to look at me. “You’re pretending to be very calm.”
“I am choosing to assume you had that under control.”
“I did.”
“I suspected as much.” My pulse was still hammering against my ribs.
The silence that rushed back in was heavier than before. Nick finally holstered his sidearm, the metallicclickfinal and sharp. He didn't move away. He stayed in my personal space, his heat a steady, grounding force against the sudden chill of the night air.
“Your pupils are blown,” he said.
“That seems like an observation you should keep to yourself.”
“It’s adrenaline.”
“I’m aware.”
“Adrenaline makes people reckless.”
I forced my hands to go still at my sides. “You’re not exactly relaxed either.”
“You’re shaking,” he noted.
“Adrenaline,” I said. “It has to go somewhere.”
His gaze moved over my face, down to my mouth, then away with visible effort.
There.
Apparently, it wanted to go there.
“Not outside,” he said.
“Obviously.”
“Not near an unsecured opening.”
“It’s latched.”
His eyes lifted to mine. “I noticed.”
