Chapter Seventeen

Jamie stifled a yawn, and shifted in the driver's seat of her sheriff's department SUV. Her daughter had been fussier than usual last night, with Jamie and her husband, Nate, taking turns getting up with her. It had taken a very hot shower and a lot of hot coffee to get going this morning, but the thought of Ryker's little girl out there somewhere with a man who wasn't her father had spurred her on. Today, she decided to focus on some of the more remote roads in the mining district. Dwight had said he had driven up there the day before yesterday and discovered the road to the mine blocked by a rockslide, making it unlikely that Mick Davis and Charlotte were up there. But Jamie had felt compelled to check it out for herself. Maybe Davis had cleared a path around the rockslide, or there was another route they hadn't explored yet.

She was making her way up the county road toward the Jeep route when a black Ford pickup passed her on the left. Jamie stared hard at the vehicle. That looked like Ryker's truck. She pressed down harder on the gas, trying to catch up. She came around a curve in time to see the truck turn onto the same Jeep road she had been headed for. She made the turn also, and tried to get close enough to read the license plate number. Dust boiled up beneath the truck's tires, obscuring the plate.

The sheriff had sent a call out earlier that Ryker and Harper Stanick were both missing. "We think they were searching for Charlotte, but they may have run into car trouble so be on the lookout," the sheriff said.

Jamie sped up, gritting her teeth as the SUV bounced up the washboarded road. She could see the truck more clearly now, though she still couldn't read the license plate. The back window was streaked with dirt, but she could make out a single occupant, wearing a dark windbreaker, much like the black Rayford County Sheriff's Department jacket Jamie herself wore. And the driver's hair was covered by a black knit cap. Hadn't she seen Ryker in a similar cap recently?

She tried to get closer, but the truck pulled away, kicking up gravel that hit her windshield. She let off the accelerator and flashed her lights, but the truck didn't stop, so she hit the siren. One loud whoop. The truck sped up even more.

As if he was trying to get away from her.

She pulled to the side of the road and shifted into Park, then keyed her radio. Signal repeaters positioned around the county were supposed to enable communication from anywhere, but depending on the terrain and the weather, they weren't always reliable. "Dispatch, this is Rayford County Sheriff's Department Unit 16."

"Hello, Jamie. What can I do for you?" Dispatcher Sally Graham's friendly voice responded.

"I'm headed south on the road up to the Jack's Peak trailhead. I'm following a truck that looks like the one Ryker drives. And there's a man in the cab who could be Ryker, but he's not stopping, even though I let him know I'm behind him."

"Hang on, I'm going to connect you with the sheriff."

As she waited, Jamie stared at the cloud of dust ahead that marked the truck's progress. Ryker or whoever was driving the vehicle was well above the posted speed limit of twenty-five miles per hour for these Jeep roads. In some places, even twenty-five was too much speed for the narrow, rutted tracks and sharp curves.

"Jamie, you think you've spotted Ryker?" Travis's clipped voice came on the line.

"Yes, sir. He passed me on the county road and turned onto the Jeep road up toward the Jack's Peak trail."

"You're sure it's Ryker?"

"No, sir. It looks like his truck, but I can't get close enough to read the license plate, and I can only tell you there's a person driving who appears to be a man about Ryker's height and build. But he was clearly trying to get away from me. He wouldn't stop even when I flashed my lights and hit the siren."

"Any passengers in the vehicle?"

"Not that I could see."

"Can you still see the vehicle?" Travis asked.

"Just the dust cloud he made. But I don't know of anywhere around here to turn off the road."

"Proceed cautiously," Travis said. "I'll send backup out your way."

"Have you heard anything from Ryker or Harper?"

"Not yet. Whoever this is, keep your distance until backup arrives."

"Yes, sir." She ended the transmission and steered her SUV back into the road. Ryker had no reason to run away from her, so maybe whoever was driving that car wasn't him. But if that was true, what had happened to Ryker?

R YKER SHIFTED C HARLOTTE from one hip to the other and trudged across the uneven terrain, keeping parallel to the road as much as possible, but out of sight of any driver—particularly Mick Davis—who might pass. Every joint in his body ached, and his head pounded. He was furious at Mick and Kim, and at himself, too. If he had taken the trouble to investigate Mick more thoroughly when Kim first got together with him, maybe he could have been better prepared for the possibility that the two of them might try something like this. At the very least he could have prepared Charlotte to resist an attempt by Kim to take her without permission. He had wanted to believe the best of his ex, but that attitude had put their daughter in danger.

He glanced over his shoulder at Harper, who walked with her head down, back bent. She looked weary and defeated, and guilt stabbed at him. He had put her in danger, too. As if he hadn't put her through enough in their time together, what with the surprise pregnancy, her parents' disapproval, her banishment to Florida, and his inability to be with her when she needed him most. He had been thrilled to find she didn't harbor resentment for all of that, but now he had pulled her into this mess. He wouldn't blame her if she didn't want anything to do with him after this.

She lifted her head and smiled. "Do you need me to take Charlotte for a bit?" she asked, and hurried to catch up with him.

"Do you want Harper to carry you for a little bit?" he asked Charlotte.

"No." Charlotte pressed her forehead into his shoulder.

"Maybe you'd like to get down and walk on your own for a little bit?" Ryker asked.

"No!"

Harper's eyes met his, her expression sympathetic. "She's probably worn out," she said.

They were all worn out. Ryker dug his phone from his pocket and checked to see if he had a signal yet. Nope. And his battery was getting low. He had turned it off overnight to conserve the battery but now that it kept searching for a tower, it was draining fast.

Harper stopped and put a hand on Ryker's arm, stopping him. "I think I hear a car coming," she said.

He raised his head. Yes, that was the distant crunch of tires on gravel, and the whine of an engine straining up a grade. "Maybe we can catch a ride," he said.

"Unless it's Mick," she said.

He nodded. "Let's get out of sight and take a look. If it isn't Mick, we can probably run after it and get the driver's attention."

They moved farther off the road into a clump of sagebrush, and crouched down. Moments later, Ryker's own truck rocketed past, rocks pinging as they hit the undercarriage, suspension protesting as the vehicle charged in and out of ruts. "He's going to tear up my truck, driving like that on these roads," he said.

"Was Mick driving?" Harper asked.

"I didn't see who it was," Ryker said. "But it had to be Mick. He's probably heading back to the parking area to see if he can intercept us."

"He'll see our packs in my car and know we've been there," Harper said. "What do we do?"

"We keep walking, but we have to stay off the road and out of sight."

They stood and set out again, but Charlotte balked. "I don't want to walk anymore!" she wailed. "I'm tired and hot and hungry. I want to stop. I want to go home." She sobbed, tears dampening the front of Ryker's shirt.

He rubbed her back, frustrated by his inability to do anything to help her. "I know you're hungry and hot and tired," he said. "Harper and I are too. I promise, we're doing everything we can to get you home. But to do that, we have to keep moving."

"Let me take her for a while," Harper said. "That way you'll have both hands free."

She didn't say she wanted him to be able to draw his weapon if Mick returned, but he was sure she was thinking it. He certainly was. If Mick did return and find them, it would be up to Ryker to protect both Charlotte and Harper. He wasn't going to let anything happen to them.

Charlotte screamed as Harper peeled her away from Ryker, but Harper merely cuddled her close. She whispered in Charlotte's ear and before long the child calmed and clung to Harper. "I think we're ready now," Harper said.

Ryker turned to lead the way back toward the county road when he heard his truck returning, the roar of the engine rapidly growing louder. Once again, they dove for shelter, this time in a trio of pi?ons clustered close to the road.

The truck wasn't moving as fast this time. Ryker could clearly see Mick as he passed by them, the driver's window rolled down. A short distance past them, he stopped the vehicle in the middle of the road. "What's he doing?" Harper whispered.

Ryker shook his head. He reached back and eased his pistol out of its holster and brought it forward. The truck door opened and Mick slid out. He stood for a moment, looking around, then turned and began walking toward them. Sun glinted off the pistol in his hand.

He stopped when he was only a few feet from them and aimed the gun at the clump of trees where they waited. "Get out of there and stand up slowly," he said. "Don't try anything."

Harper stared at Ryker, wide-eyed. Charlotte whimpered and reached for him. Ryker shook his head. He still wasn't sure Mick knew they were here. Maybe he was only guessing.

"Do it!" Mick shouted, and fired the gun. Bark tore from one of the tree trunks as the bullet hit it. Charlotte screamed so loudly Ryker worried she had been hit. "She's okay," Harper said. She smoothed the girl's hair. "She's okay."

"Stay down," Ryker said. He laid his pistol on the ground, right beside Harper, then slowly stood, his hands in the air.

"The woman and the girl, too," Mick said. "Now!"

Harper popped up, Charlotte beside her. Harper gripped Charlotte's hand.

"Throw out your gun," Mick ordered. "I know you've got one."

Ryker looked down at the pistol. "It's on the ground," he said. "I have to bend down to pick it up."

"Leave it, then, and step out here."

They did as he ordered, Ryker first, then Harper and Charlotte.

"Why didn't you leave when you could?" Harper asked. "You had the truck. You could be in New Mexico by now."

"I came back for Charlotte," he said. He wore a battered black baseball cap that shielded his eyes from view, but his words alone were enough to send a shiver down Ryker's spine.

"What do you want with her?" he asked.

"I like her. And I think she'd be useful. If I've got her with me as a hostage, the cops will have to let me go to save her. No one wants to see a little girl get hurt."

"You'll never lay a hand on her," Ryker said.

"You talk tough, but I'm the one with the gun. Come out here before I decide to shoot you. Or maybe I'll shoot your girlfriend. How would you like that?"

Harper glanced at Ryker. Then he realized she wasn't looking at him but past him, down the road. Then he heard what had caught her attention. The crunch of tires on gravel.

"Hurry up!" Mick shouted.

Ryker took a step toward the truck. Harper started after him, then stopped. He looked back to see her crouched on the ground, next to Charlotte. She stared into Charlotte's face. "You need to run," she told the little girl. "As fast and as far away from Mick as you can. Your dad and I will distract him, then we'll catch up with you later."

Charlotte looked up at Ryker. He nodded. "Run," he said, keeping his voice soft, but trying to convey the urgency of the matter.

Harper stood and Charlotte ran. Ryker bounded down the slope to the road, hoping his movements would distract Mick. "Hey!" Mick shouted, and raised the pistol as if to fire. But the wail of a siren shattered the stillness, and he swiveled toward the sound. Two Rayford County Sheriff's Department SUVs hurtled toward them.

The first SUV slid sideways and stopped, blocking the road. Mick turned toward it, mouth open. He was still holding the gun, but he held it at his side, the muzzle pointed at the dirt. Ryker stared at the weapon for half a second before making his decision. He rushed forward and threw Mick to the ground.

The gun went off, the bullet striking the ground. Then Deputy Jamie Douglas was out of the SUV and she and Ryker subdued Mick. They had him handcuffed, face down in the road, when Travis and Gage Walker joined them.

Ryker nodded at the sheriff and his brother, then turned to look toward the roadside. "Charlotte!" he shouted.

"It's okay. We're both right here." Harper walked down the road toward them, Charlotte in her arms.

Ryker met them and took Charlotte, then put his free hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "I am now. What about you?"

He fit Charlotte more securely on his hip, then took Harper's hand in his. Behind him, he could hear Jamie reciting the Miranda warning to Mick as she and Gage transferred him to Gage's SUV. "I'm okay now," he said. As okay as he'd ever be again.

R YKER WAS STILL holding Harper's hand when the sheriff walked up to them. "Your parents and Harper's mother were at the sheriff's department first thing this morning to report the two of you missing," he said. "Have you been with Mick Davis all this time?"

"We tracked him down to the Lucky Six Mine, where he'd set up camp," Ryker said. "We took Charlotte and got away on foot. We got off track and had to work our way back to the road. Mick was looking for us and spotted us. You all showed up just in time."

"Your truck passed me on the county road and turned off onto this Jeep trail." Jamie moved up beside the sheriff. "We had been alerted to look for you, but when you didn't pull over when I signaled you, I got worried enough to call for help."

"Come on," Travis said. "You can give your statements back at the office. Your parents are waiting for you."

They rode to town in the sheriff's SUV, Ryker in the front passenger seat, Harper in the back next to Charlotte in a car seat Travis unearthed from the back of the vehicle. "My twins aren't big enough for this yet, but we keep a few spares at the department to hand out to people who might need them," he explained as he buckled it into the vehicle.

Harper studied the back of Ryker's head as they drove. Charlotte fell asleep and Harper felt if she closed her eyes and allowed herself, she might doze off, too. "You said my mother reported me missing?" she asked Travis.

"Yes. She walked in a few minutes after Ryker's parents came to ask us to look for him." He glanced in the rearview mirror, catching her eye. "When Ryker's mother said she thought you and Ryker might be together, your mother asked if the two of you had eloped."

"Eloped?" Ryker sounded horrified at the idea—because her mother had asked, or because he was appalled at the idea? Not that Harper wanted to run away this minute to get married, but his reaction made her queasy. Was the idea of the two of them married really so awful?

At the station, they had scarcely entered the front doors before Wanda and Steve Vernon surrounded them. "Charlotte, I'm so happy to see you." Tears streamed down Wanda's face as she gathered the little girl close.

Steve embraced his son. "I knew you'd find her," he said.

Harper took a step back, not wanting to intrude on this family reunion. She spotted her mother and father on the other side of the room and went to join them. Her father hugged her. "I'm glad you're okay, sweetheart," he said.

Valerie studied her daughter. "You look like you had a rough night," she said. She stared at Harper's hair, which probably needed combing.

"Did you really think Ryker and I eloped?" It wasn't the way she had planned to start the conversation with her mother—the words burst out on their own accord.

The line between Valerie's eyebrows deepened. "You've never behaved rationally around that man," she said.

"Ryker isn't that man ," Harper said. "He's someone I care about. Very much."

Valerie started to speak, but Harper interrupted. "I'm an adult now," she said. "You can't send me off to Florida because you don't like the decision I made."

"Yes, you are." Her dad put his arm around her. "Your mom and I will be here for you, no matter what happens."

Valerie pressed her lips together. Harper couldn't tell if it was because she was trying not to say something she might later regret—or because she was trying not to cry. Valerie looked down at the floor, then up again, and said. "I wasn't trying to ruin your life when I sent you to Florida. I was trying to keep you from making a big mistake. You were too young, and I didn't think Ryker was the right man for you."

"Because you thought he had something to do with his cousin's death."

She flushed. "I wasn't the only one who believed that. And they never found anyone else who was responsible, did they?"

"Ryker didn't have anything to do with Aiden's abduction," Harper said. "The DNA evidence proved that, but I knew he wasn't capable of such a thing."

"I didn't know that," Valerie said. "And I had to protect you. When you have a child of your own one day, you'll understand."

Harper thought of how much she had wanted to protect Charlotte, and she hugged her mother. "It's okay, Mom. I don't think it hurt anything that Ryker and I both had time to grow up. And I'm sorry I worried you two."

"You're safe now," her dad said. "That's all that matters." He joined in the hug and Harper savored this feeling of closeness. As often as they had clashed, she could see now her mother's actions had come from a place of love. Time had given her a new perspective.

She hoped the years had given her courage, too. Courage to stand up to her parents, sure. But also courage to go after the man she wanted. Or at least to find out how he really felt about her, knowing she might not get the answer she wanted to hear.

T HREE HOURS LATER , Ryker stood at the door to Charlotte's bedroom, watching her sleep. She lay curled on her side beneath her pink comforter, a daisy-shaped night-light giving off a soft glow. She smelled of strawberry bath gel, her clean blond hair spread out on her pillow. She had eaten pizza and ice cream, and had made it halfway through a bedtime story before she had fallen asleep. Ryker, having showered and shaved and eaten, should have been headed for his own bed. But energy buzzed through him, and his brain kept replaying scenes from the past few days, from the shoot-out with Mick Davis to last night's campfire conversation with Harper.

His mother moved in beside him. "I can't stop checking to make sure she really is still here," Wanda said softly.

"I know." He let out a long breath. "But she is here. And Kim and Mick are in jail. She's safe. We all are." Logically, he believed this to be true. It would probably take a little longer for his emotions to settle down and accept that, but he trusted it would come.

"What about Harper?"

He met his mother's gaze. Her expression was one he had seen so many times in his life, one that said she had an opinion on the situation under discussion, but wanted to hear his take before she gave advice. Whether he wanted her opinion or not, he was going to get it and no sense arguing. As she had said more than once when he was growing up, "I'm your mother and I have an obligation to try to teach you at least a little of what I know."

"Harper...is complicated," he said. "My job takes so much of my time, and Charlotte deserves the rest."

"Lots of people manage to juggle jobs and children and relationships."

"I know, but—"

Wanda laid a hand on his arm. "Do you love her?"

He hesitated only a few seconds before he nodded. "Yes."

"Then you should tell her."

He looked back at his sleeping daughter, a dozen reasons why that would not be a good idea filling his head.

"I think Charlotte would like to have a mother," Wanda said. "And I think you shouldn't be alone."

"If it doesn't work out between us, it will hurt Charlotte, too." And it would hurt him. That possibility frightened him more than he would ever admit.

"I remember the way the two of you were together, even when you were seventeen and eighteen. And I've seen the two of you together now. Don't let fear of something that probably won't ever happen keep you from being happy now."

He turned back to his mother. She smiled up at him. "Go on. Charlotte isn't going to wake up for hours, and you won't rest until you've seen Harper."

He kissed her cheek. "How did you get to be so smart?"

"I raised a smart boy. I had to keep up with you."

"Can I borrow the Jeep?" Ryker asked. "The evidence team is still going over my truck."

"Of course, dear. Tell Harper we said hello."

He retrieved the keys and walked out to the Jeep, parked at the side of the house. Movement in the bushes brought him up short and he pivoted toward the sound, just as Gary Langley emerged. The light from a window flashed on something bright as the older man lunged, and Ryker instinctively dodged out of the way, then felt the sharp edge of a knife slicing his arm.

Langley lunged again, but Ryker shoved back, then kicked one leg out to trip the old man. Langley fell hard, taking Ryker down with him. The two men rolled, the knife cutting Ryker again. He felt the sting, and the sticky warmth of blood, but adrenaline numbed the pain. He smashed his fist against Langley's jaw, then grabbed his wrist and bent it back. The knife rattled against the gravel of the driveway. Ryker knelt on the older man's chest and pinned both arms at his sides. "Try anything else and I swear I'll break your arm," Ryker said.

Langley blinked up at him, transformed once more from angry predator to weak old man. "I thought I could take you by surprise and silence you before anyone heard," he said.

"Why would you try to kill me?" Ryker asked.

"You were asking too many questions about things that happened a long time ago."

"You kidnapped Aiden and killed him."

Langley turned his head to the side. "I'm not saying anything."

Ryker rolled Langley onto his stomach, and used his own bootlaces to tie his hands. Then he stood and pulled out his phone to call the sheriff. "Gary Langley attacked me with a knife outside my home," he said.

The sheriff arrived a few minutes later, along with an ambulance. Steve and Wanda emerged from the house and Wanda turned pale at the sight of the blood running down Ryker's arms. "It's okay, Mom," he said. "It's going to be okay."

Two deputies put Langley in restraints and the sheriff interviewed Ryker while Hannah cleaned and bandaged the cuts on his arms, none of which were very deep. "Your jacket protected you," she said as she applied rows of Steri-Strips across the longest wound. "But you'll need to be careful of infection, and make sure you're up to date on your tetanus vaccine."

She left them and Travis said, "I did some checking and Langley was asked to resign from his coaching position because there had been complaints he was paying the wrong kind of attention to some of the kids."

"Aiden played soccer for a little while," Ryker said. He buttoned up the new shirt he had asked his mom to bring from the house. "He probably knew Langley."

"I'm going to do some more digging. Aiden might not be the only child he harmed."

"That accident he had likely saved a lot of kids," Ryker said. "He probably thought he had gotten away with Aiden's murder, and then I came back and started asking questions."

"Questions that should have been asked years ago," Travis said. "We're going to check his DNA. If it's a match to that found on Aiden's body, he won't have a chance to hurt anyone else."

Ryker nodded. He had no doubt the DNA would be a match. He stood. "Is that all you need from me?"

Travis nodded. "Get some rest. We'll finish up the paperwork in the morning."

But Ryker had no intention of resting. He drove to Harper's apartment, grateful she had her own place. He thought he could deal with her parents when the time came, but he didn't really want them witnessing this particular conversation.

Harper answered the door wearing a clean T-shirt and shorts, barefoot with her toenails painted pink. Her hair was damp and her cheeks flushed, and the air around her smelled of vanilla. Her gaze shifted to the single bandage on the side of his face. "Ryker! Is everything okay?"

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." She held the door wider and he moved past her into a living room furnished with a sofa and chair, and what looked like an antique rocking chair. There were shelves of books and plants, and lots of pictures on the walls, from local landscapes to photographs of people he didn't know. "What happened?" she asked, and gestured to the bandage.

"Gary Langley attacked me outside my house tonight."

"Who is Gary Langley?"

"I think he's the person who kidnapped and killed Aiden. I've been looking into the case. He was a youth soccer coach and local handyman when Aiden was abducted. A neighbor reported seeing a truck that looked like Langley's the night Aiden disappeared, but it was never properly followed up on. Langley found out I was taking a closer look at him and decided to try to stop me."

"Ryker! You could have been killed."

"But I wasn't. And Langley is behind bars and will probably stay there for a long time. Maybe the rest of his life." That knowledge energized him, even though he ought to be exhausted. He looked around the room again, and focused on a large map that hung over the mantel of a gas fireplace. He moved closer and realized it was a map of Eagle Mountain, hand-drawn with all the local landmarks and businesses carefully labeled.

"Did you draw this?" he asked.

She came to stand beside him, close enough he realized the vanilla aroma was coming from her hair. "I did. You can get a copy of your own, on a smaller scale, from the visitor's bureau." She hugged her arms across her chest. "It was one of the first projects I did when I moved back. It helped me get to know my hometown again."

"I'm glad you came back," he said.

"Are you?"

Was that hurt he heard in her voice, or merely his own doubts coloring his interpretation? He turned to her. "I love you," he said. "I'm not sure I ever stopped but seeing you again, I knew. I just didn't know if that was enough to make up for all the mistakes I made before."

She dropped her hands to her sides, her expression puzzled. "What mistakes did you make? I'm the one who left town without even telling you where I was going."

"Because your parents wouldn't let you. I knew that. But I should have tried harder to find you. I left you pregnant and alone with strangers."

"I was with my aunt. And she was kind, even if she wasn't exactly thrilled to have me with her."

"But you had to go through losing the baby without me there."

"I did." She moved closer, and slid her arms around his waist. "But I never blamed you. I blamed my parents—especially my mom. But I never blamed you."

"Why not?"

She smiled. "I guess because I still loved you so much. In my eyes, you could do no wrong."

"If you had only known I was off getting involved with a woman I never should have gone out with, much less married. A woman who would leave me for an ex-con and return years later to kidnap our daughter and lead me to dragging you along to chase after her boyfriend, who could have ended up killing you." A tremor shook him at the last words, and Harper hugged him more tightly.

"What happened in the past isn't as important as what we do now," she said. "I love you and I love Charlotte, too. I want to be a part of your lives."

He looked into her eyes, and all the fear left him. He wanted to be with her. He wanted Charlotte to know her better. He wanted the three of them to make the family they had been denied before. All that hope didn't leave any room for worry and doubt. "I love you," he said, and kissed her.

In the fairy tales he sometimes read Charlotte, kisses were magical things, turning frogs into princes and waking sleeping beauties. Harper's kiss was like that, breaking the lock he had kept on his emotions. He didn't have to be anywhere or answer to anyone or worry that at any moment she might turn on him. All he had to do was be here with her and enjoy the feel of her body pressed to his, the softness of her lips and the heat that spread through him as she stroked her hands down his back.

She broke the kiss and smiled up at him. "Do you remember the afternoon we sneaked into your house when your parents were away, and made love in your bedroom?" she asked.

"Yes. I wanted you so much, yet I was nervous we would get caught." That afternoon had been both wonderful and awful, since he had felt cheated of the ability to fully enjoy it.

"No parents to interrupt us here," she said, a wicked gleam in her eye.

He took her hand and kissed her palm. "Where's the bedroom?" he asked.

Later, he couldn't have told anyone what the room looked like, except that the mattress was soft and the sheets cool and silky, and she was beautiful. She was different, yet the same, more mature, more confident, yet the same woman he had loved all along. Making love to her was new and exciting and so familiar. He remembered what she liked and how she made him feel. He wanted to touch and kiss every inch of her, yet his body—and her urgent movements and breathy sighs—told him neither of them wanted to wait the time that might take. He settled for kissing his way down her torso, then pausing to gaze up at her. "Do you have a condom?"

She laughed.

"What's so funny?"

She rolled over and opened the drawer of her bedside table and pulled out a strip of foil packets. "I was just thinking that as much as this all feels the same for us, we have at least learned to be a little more responsible." She tore off a packet and thrust it at him. "Just so you know, I bought these after that first day I ran into you, up on Dixon Pass at that accident call."

"Really? The first day?"

"I had hopes."

"Then let's see if we can make a few dreams come true. For both of us." He tore open the packet.

She lay back against the pillows, watching him with an expression that was more erotic than any touch. He rolled on the condom, then moved up to lie beside her. She trailed her fingers down his chest. "One day I'll draw a map of you," she said. "I'll annotate it with all my favorite parts."

"Such as?"

"Here." She kissed his shoulder. "And here." More kisses traced the muscles of his chest. "And definitely down here." She moved lower.

When he could restrain himself no longer, her urged her up beside him once more. "Work on your map later," he said. "I don't want to wait any longer."

"No. We've waited long enough."

They came together without awkwardness, two people who knew what they needed and were as eager to give as they were to take. They didn't rush, but they didn't waste time, either. When she climaxed she made the same small, joyous sounds she had so long ago, and he couldn't help but smile. Then she reached down and touched him and his own release surged through him and he shouted her name. Which he had never done before, but this time, it felt right. The two of them together felt right, in a way that nothing had in a very long time.