But alive.
She closed her eyes briefly.
Grant’s face when he reached her on that airstrip flashed hard through her mind.
The rage.
The fear.
The relief.
The way he grabbed her, as if letting go wasn’t an option anymore.
She closed her eyes.
When she finally came downstairs, dressed in soft clothes Naomi had left folded on the bed, the house was dim and quiet.
Sunlight spilled pale gold through the kitchen windows.
Grant stood at the counter, staring into a mug of coffee gone cold. He didn’t look up immediately, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the last twenty-four hours. When he finally heard her, he turned—and in three strides, he crossed the room, as if the gravity of the room had shifted solely toward her.
Neither spoke.
His hand closed gently around hers.
And suddenly she was pulled against him.
Grant buried his face briefly against her hair, arms locked around her like he still didn’t fully believe she was standing there.
Izzy held onto him just as tightly.
His voice was rough when he finally spoke.
“You have no idea how close I came to losing my mind up there.”
She looked up at him.
Grant shook his head once, jaw tightening again at the memory.
“When I saw that guy putting his hands on you…” He exhaled sharply. “Jesus Christ, Iz.”
Her throat tightened instantly.
“It was all I could do not to go down that mountain before Burke gave the order.”
A faint tremor still lingered underneath his voice.
Izzy touched his face softly.
“But you came.”
Grant looked at her a long second.
“Always.”
The word settled deep between them.
Then quietly, without another word, he took her hand and led her toward the couch.
