“And freezing to death.” He grinned, and in it, she saw the past, and maybe the future.
Hope.
“There’s soup inside,” Jericho said.
Gabe turned to Harley. “You okay?”
“I’ll take it from here,” Jericho said even as Harley nodded.
Gabe pressed a hand to her cheek. Held it a moment. Then he headed inside.
Which just left her and Jericho on the porch. She stared at him. Then she turned and headed off the porch and plunged through the knee-deep drifts into the darkness.
“Harley!” Jericho’s voice cut through the howling wind. She plowed deeper into the forest, branches whipping her face.
Jericho’s hand caught her arm.
She wrenched away, spun to face him. “Do you know how many nights I laid awake wondering if I could have saved him?”
“I can imagine—”
“No!” She backed away. “No you can’t, because you weren’t there. And I get that—but ... now you are and he’s here and...” Her eyes burned, and the words just ... just shuddered out. “I’m so scared I’m going to lose you all again.”
He stared at her, his hazel-blue eyes hard. Then he caught her wrist, pulled her under the shelter of a massive pine. Snow fell in clumps around them, but here, the branches created a pocket of stillness, the wind’s howl muted to a distant roar.
“I’m here.” His ungloved hands framed her face, thumbs brushing away tears she hadn’t realized were falling. “I’m right here, Harley. I won’t leave.”
“You did before.” She hated that the words slipped out of her, but maybe the residue of the past didn’t fall away quite so easily. “You didn’t come home. You walked away. Gabe was right. I was so alone, and I’m still—”
“Stop.” His voice roughened. “You’re not alone anymore.”
His words jolted her to silence. She stared at him, breathing hard, the puffs of breath visible between them in the light of the cabin.
Oh, he was a handsome man. Fierce and strong, a silent presence in her heart, a bastion in her storms.
“Please don’t break my heart.” Then she stepped up and kissed him. And it wasn’t sweet or tentative but something of desperation and purpose and even hope.
And wouldn’t you know it, he was right there, ready, his mouth on hers, his hands on her jacket, pulling her close. He kissed her as if he needed her to believe. Maybe as if he neededhimself to believe. And it wasn’t a careful, controlled kiss either but something of passion, of fire, of ... promises.
“Jericho”—she gasped against his mouth. “Promise—”
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He met her eyes, some unspoken emotion in them. Then he leaned back in and kissed her harder, deeper, backing her against the rough bark of the pine. One hand slid to her neck, his thumb brushing her pulse point. The other curved around her waist, pulling her against him.
Her fingers curled into his coat. The taste of him—coffee and winter nights and coming home—swept over her. His breath caught as she held on.
Yes, Jericho was here. And maybe that was all she needed right now, despite his words.
He slowed their kiss just a little, deepened it, and in it she felt the strength of him, the sturdiness. The man she once trusted.
Shoot.Stilltrusted, despite the shouting in her head.
She’d missed this Jericho. The one who’d always seemed to know her, the light in the darkness, and once upon a time, the one who showed up to fight her battles, even if she hadn’t asked.
“Todaywas a good warning of what I don’t want.”The words flickered, then fell away. Clearly he’d been lying to himself, right?
She finally broke away, her heart thundering. Snow fell in thick curtains around the pine.
“I can’t lose anyone else,” she said, hating the terrible desperation in her voice.