Page 30 of Easy, Tiger

Strong hands catch me low across the hips, hauling me back before I can splash into the mud. My feet leave the log entirely as Nolan hauls me up against his chest, his momentum carrying us smoothly toward the far bank.

We land in a tangle of limbs on the muddy shore, my spine pressed to his broad ribs, his arms locked securely around my hips. His natural warmth surrounds me, making me squeeze his forearms tighter.

"You okay?"

His voice rumbles against my ear, deeper than usual. I should pull away and establish some distance, but his arms feel too good around me.

"Perfect landing. Though I'm not sure that technique would work for everyone."

"Good thing you're not everyone."

His meaning is clear, making heat pool low in my core. Meaning to create space between us, I turn in his arms, but the movement only brings our faces closer together.

He drinks in my face like he's memorizing it, breathing immediately difficult between us. One hand moves to cup my cheek, his thumb painting devastatingly gentle lines against my skin.

"Halsey."

My name sounds different in his voice, like something precious and fragile.

"Well, that was graceful."

Untangling myself from his arms with more haste than dignity, I immediately twist to check the camera looped around my neck. The lens cap held, the body's dry, nothing cracked or bent. Relief floods through me, loosening the panicked knot in my stomach. Mud squelches beneath my palms as I lever up from the creek bank, my heart continuously hammering against my ribs, and not entirely from the near fall.

Nolan rises beside me, brushing dirt from his jeans, easy and unhurried. The tips of his ears have gone red beneath his hair, refusing to look up from his hands.

"Creek crossings can be tricky." He clears his throat, shouldering his tool bag. "Especially this time of year."

"For sure. Seasonal hazards." I dust off my jacket, hyperaware of every place his hands had touched. "Good thing you have quick reflexes."

"Years of practice."

We stand there for a beat too long, the hush lingering until it turns awkward. My face feels hot despite the cool mountain air, and judging by the flush creeping up Nolan's neck, he's having the same problem.

"Should probably head back," I gesture vaguely toward the trail. "Light's starting to fade."

"Good call." He aligns his stride with mine, maintaining strict distance between us.

"These trails get challenging in low light."

The walk back is charged with a new awareness, turning every accidental brush of our shoulders into something electric. As I steal peeks at his profile, I observe the strong line of his jaw and how his eyes inspect the forest with protective vigilance.

"Thanks for the rescue back there."

"Anytime." The word sounds rougher than he likely meant, because he immediately follows with, "I mean, hopefully you won't need rescuing again anytime soon."

"I'll try to keep the dramatic creek crossings to a minimum."

His laugh sounds strained. "Appreciate that."

When we reach his truck, the sun has vanished behind the mountain ridge, casting everything in purple twilight. Nolan opens the passenger door, his hand briefly touching the small of my back as I climb in.

The drive to my cabin passes in comfortable silence, country music playing softly on the radio. Watching his hands on the steering wheel, I remember how they felt banded around my hips, strong and sure and incredibly warm.

"Here we are. Home sweet home."

"Thanks for the ride and the lumber scouting expedition." I pause with my hand on the door handle. "Though you never actually cut anything."

"Marked the trees I want. I'll come back with the trailer and a chainsaw once I've got a free afternoon. Wasn't about to drag logs out of the woods on the same day I nearly let you take a freezing mud bath in the creek."