Page 19 of Willow Embers
At least, I thought it had. Now though? It’s back with a vengeance.
I was an idiot back then. Losing her was the dumbest, most selfish thing I’ve ever done. All because I needed to prove to myself that I was worthy of her. And because I was too weak to face her when she really needed me.
ELEVEN
NIXIE
The morning breezenips at my cheeks and neck. Beauden found me a moth-eaten flannel buried in the bottom of that old hope chest and gave it to me for the hike down. It’s helping, but my fingers and feet are still freezing, thanks in part to the fact that my shoes didn’t dry out completely.
The one bright spot? Tiberius is okay. That little monster actually wanted to play this morning, and he’s been bouncing around Beauden like the man is made of bacon and squeaky balls.
“Traitor,” I mumble under my breath when my dog doesn’t so much as glance back at me, but I don’t mean it. I’m just lost.
Between waking up on the couch and realizing Beauden must have carried me there —hello, embarrassment— and the quiet way his mood seems to have shifted, I feel so far out of my element that it’s almost laughable.
My foot slips, and I go down with a yelp. It doesn’t really hurt, but Beauden is right there, his fist wrapped tightly around what’s left of Tiberius’s leash as he helps me to my feet with his other hand.
“You okay?” His voice is low and soft, and it does something to my insides that makes me forget how hungry I am. For food, anyway. And his hand is so warm when I take it.
How is that fair?
I nod. “I’m fine.”
His deep brown eyes search mine. “The terrain should smooth out soon. The main trail isn’t far.”
I give him another nod and belatedly realize my hand is still in his. Tugging it free, I tuck it in the too-long sleeve of my fancy new flannel.
“Thanks,” I murmur, looking down at Tiberius.
Beauden doesn’t get moving right away, and I can feel the weight of his gaze on me. It’s heavy and intimate. And honestly, a little terrifying. Because no matter what we lost all those years ago, the man can still excite a storm of butterflies in my stomach.
I’m too much of a coward to meet his eye, so I crouch and scratch Tiberius behind his ears. “Hey, boy,” I whisper.
He reacts by giving me a big, slobbery kiss on my cheek, which actually pulls a laugh out of me. It’s a foreign sound after the chaos of the last twenty-four hours, but it buoys me all the same. Smiling, I wipe the wetness away with my sleeve and finally stand and look at Beauden.
He’s wearing a smirk that tugs at my heart, not to mention other sensitive parts a little lower down. “There she is.”
“Who?” I ask, but I know. He’s talking about me.
Beauden gives a tiny shake of his head and pulls his bottom lip between his teeth in that way that used to make me swoon.
It still does.
Instead of saying whatever is clearly on his mind, he glances down the hill. “We should get going. I imagine you two are starving.” When he looks back at me, that smirk is gone, and for one fleeting second, I miss it.
I miss him.
Damn him.
Shoving down the longing that’s rising in me like the coming tide, I shift my crossbody bag and nod. “Yeah, I’m ready to get home.” It’s a lie.
Or a partial lie.
Am I ready for the comfort and safety of my apartment? Absolutely. But the idea of going home and never coming back, never seeing Beauden again, leaves me with a hollow ache that I’m not ready to face.
We make the rest of the hike back to the trailhead in relative silence. I don’t know how long it takes. All I know is that by the time we get there, my feet are tired, I’m hungry as hell, and burying my feelings and fears isn’t working anymore.
Beauden walks Tiberius over to my car and holds out the cut end of his leash, his expression unreadable.
