She’d held nothing back, not one single thing and he hadn’t done anything to stop her talking.
There had been a moment when she’d thought he was going to kiss her. Right after she’d finished talking there had been a look in those lazy blue eyes that had made her wish her rule was three nights, not one. If he’d reached for her then, she wasn’t sure her willpower would have held out. Instead, he’d slid into his own sleeping bag and hadn’t touched her.
Knowing his sex drive as she did, that could only mean one thing.
She’d scared him off. He’d thought she was like him, more interested in work than relationships. Now he knew the truth he’d be keeping his distance. She should be relieved about that, because the alternative would have her breaking even more of her rules.
She sat up, pushed her hair away from her face and breathed.
Shaken by her own feelings and confused about his, she pulled on her clothes and emerged from the tent to find him cooking breakfast on the lightweight stove.
“I found breakfast in your magic bag. Homemade English muffins and bacon. Good choice.” He flipped the bacon, defusing any tension in the atmosphere with an easy smile. His hair shone blue-black in the early morning light and his jaw was dark with stubble. Despite appearances, he was as comfortable out here in the wilds as he was in an expensive restaurant.
Her stomach was knotted so tightly she doubted she could eat a thing. The confidences of the night before had unsettled her in a way sex never had. Ridiculous though it seemed, that conversation was the most intimate thing they’d shared.
She knelt by the stove and watched the sun rise over the mountaintops. “What time is it? Are we in a hurry?”
“We’re on Tyler’s schedule and he’s a slave driver. His instructions were that breakfast had to be cooked at sunrise. It also means we do the toughest part of the hike before it gets warm and muggy. He thinks his group of unfit businessmen will be whining by lunchtime so the aim is to get down to the frozen waterfall by then. That’s our next picnic spot.”
He was speaking as if nothing had happened. As if nothing had changed.
“Frozen waterfall?”
“That’s what we call it because you can climb it in the winter.” He tipped the toasted muffins onto a plate, added bacon and handed it to her. “Obviously it’s not frozen now.”
“It is where your father proposed to your mother. She told me about it once.”
“Yeah, that’s the place.” He stared at his own plate for a moment and then started eating. “This was a good choice. Even Brenna can cook bacon.”
They ate, cleared up, packed away all their food so that they didn’t attract wildlife and hiked at a steady pace, following the river back toward Snow Crystal. They stopped at the waterfall, now in full flow, ate lunch and then continued on to the point where their path intersected one of the resort’s mountain bike trails.
They’d barely started down the trail when they heard shouts.
“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” Élise wrinkled her nose and listened.
“Kids.” Sean paused, head tilted to one side. “Someone having fun?”
“It didn’t sound like a child.”
Even as she said it, a man appeared farther down the path, waving his arms.
Élise squinted. “Isn’t that Sam’s dad?”
“Yes. Something is wrong.” Without bothering to take the backpack off his back, Sean sprinted down the trail toward the man and Élise followed as quickly as she could with the backpack weighing her down.
As she caught up with them she saw little Sam lying still on the ground, blood staining his trousers and soaking into the path, the wheel of his new red bike buckled and lying at a strange angle.
She felt a moment of pure panic. He looked so small and defenseless.
“Oh, mon dieu—”
“His bike hit a rock and he came off. He’s hurt his leg.” His father was pressing ineffectually on the leg but blood seeped around his fingers. “I can’t stop the bleeding. It’s spurting everywhere. I shouldn’t have left him but I needed to get help. Christ, make it stop. Make it stop.”
“It’s an artery.” Cool and calm, Sean swung his backpack off his shoulders and squatted down next to Sam.
The boy’s lips were blue. Mud streaked his cheeks and his hair was matted where he’d fallen. “I broke my new bike. I broke it.”
“We’re going to fix your bike so it’s good as new.” Sean took over from the father who was shaking so badly he couldn’t maintain pressure on the wound. “And we’re going to fix you, too.”