“You think? You know stuff about trauma?”
Tyler did. More than he’d ever wanted to. “Everyone’s got something.”
“That’s vague.”
“It’s intentional.”
Brooke’s lips quirked into what might have been a smile. “Fair enough. I’m being nosy.”
“You’re being curious. There’s a difference.”
They fell into silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just two people standing in a parking lot, waiting for law enforcement to arrive and turn an already terrible day into something more complicated.
“Thank you,” Brooke said after a moment. “For back there. For not letting me completely lose it.”
“You didn’t need me. You were handling it.”
“I was panicking.”
“You were scared. But you still marked the location, still got yourself to safety. You were ready to blast me with your bear spray.” He smiled and she laughed, the sound of it sending a new wave of something through him.
“I was. Believe me, I was.”
“That’s not panicking. That’s being smart under pressure.”
She looked at him, really looked at him, and Tyler felt exposed in a way that should’ve made him uncomfortable. Instead, it felt like being seen. Like maybe she understood something about him without him having to explain it.
Behind them, Sue laughed at something Robert said. Normal sounds in an abnormal situation. Tyler became aware of how close he was standing to Brooke, close enough to smell the faint scent of her shampoo mixed with trail dust and sweat.
Close enough to notice the way her breathing had changed, steady but quick. Like maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling this insane pull.
“Tyler,” she started, then stopped.
“Yeah?”
“Why haven’t I seen you before? In town, I mean. Sue said you’ve worked at the shop for a while.”
There it was. The question he’d been expecting. The one he didn’t want to answer but probably needed to.
“I keep to myself,” he said carefully. “Work, home, play a little darts for fun. Not much else.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“It’s safe.”
The word was out before he could stop it, revealing more than he’d intended.
“Safe from what?” she asked.
Tyler opened his mouth to deflect, to change the subject, to rebuild the walls he’d just accidentally knocked down.
But then the sound of tires on gravel cut through the afternoon quiet. They both turned to see a Basin County Sheriff’s Department SUV coming down the access road, dust rising in its wake.
“Guess that’s our cue,” Brooke said, but she didn’t move away from him.
Tyler watched the vehicle approach, every instinct in him going on alert. The urge to leave rose up again, sharp and insistent.
But Brooke’s hand found his arm, just briefly. A touch that said I’m glad you’re here. A touch that anchored him more effectively than any rational argument could have.
