She needed Colter. And she needed him uninjured. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”
“I know my injury, Kensie. It probably seems like I’m being a typical boneheaded man, but I’ve lived with this for the past year. It hurts pretty bad right now, but it’s nothing compared to what it was like even six months ago. It’ll heal. It’ll suck in the meantime, but it’ll heal. I need elevation, ice and rest.”
She peeled her hand free and hurried into the attached kitchen to get him some ice. “How much rest?” It was insensitive, but as much as she wanted Colter’s help, time mattered right now. If he was going to be out of commission for a week, she’d have to find someone else to assist her.
The idea of having anyone else by her side while she searched for Alanna made anxiety gnaw away at her. Somehow, in two days, Colter and Rebel had managed to become much more than just local help. Much more than tools in the search for her sister. They’d become her friends, her support system.
She faltered, a bag full of ice in her hands. Colter had done so much for her, and when he’d said he should be dead alongside his brothers, words had failed her. Just like she’d failed him in that moment.
“Kensie?” Colter called. “What’s wrong?”
How could he read her so well already? She’d never been someone who wore her feelings all over her face. Slamming the freezer door shut, she strode over to him and carefully placed the ice on his thigh.
Colter flinched at the contact, but didn’t make a sound, except to say, “Thanks.”
There was another chair on the opposite side of the room, but Kensie didn’t want to be that far away when she broached the topic of his lost friends. So she perched on the edge of the hearth, her heart pounding frantically.
Since she’d gotten involved with groups chasing cold cases, she’d met a lot of families of victims. Some had gotten the worst possible news during the time she’d known them. When she could, she’d tried to support them, all the while praying she’d never be one of them. But she’d learned quickly that what helped one person hurt another. And she didn’t want to hurt Colter. He’d faced too much pain already.
“Colter...”
He turned toward her, his beautiful blue eyes narrowing like he knew what was coming. Rebel rose from her spot on the other side of his recliner and ran around, plopping down between them. Ears perked, chin up, she stared at Colter like she was waiting for him to say something.
Kensie spoke first. “I like the picture in your room. The one where you have Rebel on your shoulders.”
At her name, the dog’s head swiveled toward Kensie, her tail wagging.
A short burst of laughter, half amusement at Rebel and half nervousness about the conversation, broke free. “Those were your brothers with you, right? Your Marine brothers?”
The picture had been perched sideways on his nightstand, as though sometimes he wanted to see it and others he turned it away from him. The photo showed everyone covered in dust, looking exhausted, and she’d wondered if they’d just returned from a mission, wondered what they’d been doing. Colter was in the middle, Rebel’s front legs dangling over one shoulder and her back legs dangling over the other, with Colter holding both. Her tongue had been lolling out, her eyes a little droopy, like she was just as tired as the soldiers. But they’d all been smiling. Even Rebel’s mouth was stretched outward, like she was happy, too.
“Kensie, you’ve seen what happens when I even think about that day.” His voice grew quiet, like he hated admitting it. “I break down. I can’t function. I don’t want to talk about—”
“You don’t have to tell me how they died, Colter. I want to know how they lived. You loved them, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And they loved you.”
It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway.
“Don’t you think they’d want—”
“Me to live?” Colter interrupted with a humorless laugh. “You think psychiatrists haven’t played this game with me, Kensie?”
“It’s not a ga—”
“It’s not about that. Of course they’d want me to live. We all lived and breathed by the same code. Loyalty. We did everything together. And maybe that’s half the point. They all had families at home waiting for them. Every single one of them. Except me.” He leaned forward, pain all over his face—but from his wound or his memories, she wasn’t sure. “How is that fair?”
“It’s not fair,” she answered softly. “But you deserve a chance at happiness, too. You deserve a family.”
As she spoke the words, she could actually imagine a family for him. A little boy with Colter’s sky-blue eyes. Twin girls with Colter’s slow grin and her own dark hair. Rebel chasing after all of them in a yard behind a cheerful yellow house. She and Colter watching, holding hands and laughing.
Kensie swayed backward at the intensity of her fantasy, at how real it felt, how possible. But it wasn’t. Not even close. Her time with Colter was temporary.
Colter said something, but the words didn’t process over the roaring crescendo of her heartbeat in her ears. Somehow, over the course of two days, she’d done more than just develop a silly crush on Colter.
She’d gone and fallen halfway in love with him.
Chapter Thirteen
She was falling in love with Colter Hayes. A man she barely knew.
It was ridiculous. It shouldn’t even be possible. And yet, her heart thumping madly and her face flushing with the fear he might read her feelings in her eyes told her it was true.
“Kensie.”
The way Colter said her name suggested he’d been repeating it. She jerked her gaze up to his, seeing the mix of confusion and concern.
His hands were braced on the recliner, all the distracting muscles in his arms outlined. “You
