He glanced at her. Just that one glance, but in it she spotted the past. And the future. And the fact that...
Yeah, she could have gotten them both killed.
Right then, the story of his getting ambushed sort of slid through her, and... She had no right to put him in that situation. To putherself in the kind of danger that made him show up, defend her, and nearly get himself killed.
No wonder he’d walked away from her all those years ago. Run, really.
Or maybe ... escaped?
She pressed her hand to her stomach, the roiling inside. “I’m sorry.”
He made a noise, deep inside his chest. But as he turned into the resort parking lot, he reached over and took her hand. Squeezed it.
Then let go.
Her eyes burned.
He parked. Shut off the engine. Then turned. The lights from the residence lodge entry poured into the windshield. So much earnestness in his eyes, it just swept her up. “Really, I’m so sorry.”
He reached out and touched her face, his fingers a little chilled from the steering wheel. “HT, you need to trust me. I don’t need to be the boss of you, but if we’re going to be partners, then...”
Partners?
And now her eyes flooded. Maybe he heard his word too, because he dropped his hand.
“Okay, more than partners. But you gotta work with me. Listen to me. I have your back, and I’m in this ... but—”
“Then you have to promise not to die.”
He blinked at her, and maybe she didn’t know exactly where that came from, but his eyes widened.
The rawness of her words made her reach for the door. She piled out, Orlando behind her.
“C’mon!”
She closed the door on Jericho’s word, hating herself a little. No, a lot.
Maybe he wasn’t the runner here. And that thought had her stopping right there in the parking lot.
What was shedoing?
Perhaps Orlando knew too, because he leaned against her leg, then sat in her path, as if in cahoots with Jericho, who got out and rounded the car.
She looked up at him, frustration in his handsome face, those eyes hard. “I’m scared too!” she said.
He had stopped right in front of her and now nodded.
“You think I didn’t regret running after Mars. Especially when I saw you two fighting—I wasterrified. I thought I’d see you beaten to death and it would be all my fault and”—she pressed her hands to her face—“it was always my fault. No wonder you left. I would have left too—”
“Harley, stop.” Jericho reached out and pulled her to himself, hard, strong, sturdy. “I’m not going to die. And you’re not going to run, and Mars isn’t going to win.”
And she so wanted to believe him that she just held on, buried her face in his jacket. She didn’t even know why she was crying, but after a moment, she hiccupped and looked up at him.
He was smiling down at her.
Oh she loved this man. The truth of it broke through, took hold. “I ran away first,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“Aw, HT,” he said quietly. “Stop apologizing and let me kiss you.”