me into a panic as my body readied to leap out of the path of a barreling bullet.
My foot plopped down in a slick puddle of mud and my arms shot out from my sides, trying to balance, trying to prevent me from falling. But then my other foot started to slide around and I knew I was going down.
Just before I landed in a heap of mud, Nathan caught me around the waist and pulled me close.
“Careful,” he whispered, helping me back onto my feet. He held onto my arm as I stepped out of the mud and onto sturdier land. “Come on,” he said, leading me off to the side, beneath a very large tree.
The branches overhead still contained enough leaves to shelter us from the worst of the rain. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but it seemed warmer under here.
Or maybe it was because Nathan was inches away from me and his body heat was sinful.
He leaned up against the rough bark of the tree, planting his feet wide. I was close enough to see the outline of his hard chest and torso through the wet shirt that was plastered against his frame.
Clearly, he worked out. A lot.
“Come here,” he said quietly, holding out one of his arms and inviting me close.
I hesitated a fraction of a second and then stepped between his legs as he pulled me in so I was leaning right up against him. Even though he was soaking wet, he still radiated heat. My icy cold fingers curled closer to him from within the sleeves of his fleece jacket.
“Why don’t you rest for a minute?” he suggested right into my ear. “We’ve been walking a long time.”
My legs were shaking. From the effort of walking? From the fear of being hunted? From being so close to him? I didn’t know. But no matter how stiffly I held myself, they refused to stop.
Nathan slid down the trunk of the tree until his butt hit the pile of fall-colored leaves. He tugged me into his lap and used his hand to tuck my cheek against his chest.
It was an awfully intimate position. But he was so warm and his presence was so reassuring. I didn’t want to move. So I stayed.
He used his fingers to pull the wet strands of my dark hair off my face and tuck them behind my ear. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat caused my eyes to droop closed. I was so incredibly tired. My body felt like a bowl of Jell-O, all wobbly and loose.
“Do you think he’s following us?” I whispered.
“Maybe.”
“How much longer until we hit the road?”
“We should have hit it a while ago, but I had to double back because I thought I heard him heading in our direction.”
I glanced up. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
I felt him shrug as he pushed my head back against his chest. “It wouldn’t have changed anything,” he replied, running his fingers through my wet hair. “Besides, you’re scared enough.”
“I’m not scared enough for you to keep the truth from me,” I snapped.
His fingers paused. “I wasn’t trying to lie.”
I sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”
His fingers began stroking me again. My eyes slid closed. “We have maybe a mile or two before we hit a road. We will follow it until we find someone.”
“Should we call the police?”
“I’ll call them when we hit the road. I’m not sure how near he is, and I don’t want to make too much noise. Plus, it will be easier for them to find us.”
Every once in a while, a big fat rain drop would drip off the leaves above and hit me on the cheek. It would trail over my skin like I was crying, even though I wasn’t.
“I’m going to get a puppy,” I announced, not really sure why I was bringing this up again.
“Oh yeah?” he asked. His voice vibrated in his chest and tickled me.
I nodded against him. “Yeah. I’ve always wanted a dog.”
“What kind of dog do you want?”
“I have no idea.” I giggled. “I didn’t know I wanted one so bad until today.”
“Staring down death has a way of making things clear.”
“You say that like you understand.”
He didn’t reply.
“How long have you been a Marine?”
“Six years.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Twenty-four. I joined the Corps right out of high school.”
“I didn’t know there were Marines in this area.”
“I’m stationed in Allentown. It’s a very small reservist base.”
“You live out in this area?” I asked, curious.
“Mmmm,” he replied. “I like to get away at the end of the day.”
“Are you from the South?”
“You like my accent?” he asked, a smile in his voice.
“Maybe,” I said, smiling.
He chuckled. “Born and raised in North Carolina.”
“This your first time being stationed up North?”
“Yep.”
Without realizing it, I cuddled in a little closer and he tightened his hold on my body. I felt his chin rub the top of my head, and I took a deep breath. “You smell like a Christmas tree.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“My favorite holiday is Christmas,” I said shyly.
He started stroking my hair again.
“Not many people would have come looking for me,” I told him, wondering what he would say. Because of me, he’d been shot at, punched, stranded in the woods, and now forced to hike through the rain with an injured woman.
“The police were busy.”
“You could have left them all the information and gone home.”
“I don’t leave behind people in trouble.”
Again, I sensed more behind his words than he said, but I didn’t feel like it was my place to ask. “Well, whatever your reason… thank you.”
“You already thanked me.”
“Words are never enough.”
“Aren’t you a writer?” he asked, amusement in his tone.
I laughed. It hurt my ribs. “Yeah.”
“Bake me a pie.”
“What?” I asked, wondering how the topic turned to food.
“You can thank me by baking a pie.”
“You like pie?”
“Who doesn’t?”
He had a point. He was probably one of those bachelors who never cooked… Wait a minute…
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You haven’t really seen my face yet,” he replied, amused.
I didn’t need to see his face. I knew he was beautiful.
“What kind of pie do you want?” I said, getting back on topic.
“Apple.”
