Quinn looked at her, his golden brown eyes shining in the fading light. “And you’re going to tell Deputy Sam that you love him.”
She froze, and the slightest smile tweaked up Quinn’s face.
“I don’t—”
“Oh yes, you do. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”
Okay, yes. But, “He doesn’t want me. If he did, he would be—”
“On his way to save you?”
“That’s his job.”
“He could have sent Pete. Or Gage. Or Ty.” He lifted a shoulder. “But it was his panicked voice that said”—and Quinn affected Sam’s low baritone—“I’m coming for you.”
Huh. “You heard that?”
“Hard not to—he was practically shouting.”
Branches snapped not far from them. The darkness had fallen to almost lethal shadows, and she strained to look out onto the path.
Then, a feral roar lifted into the night, the kind that could strip the bones from her skin and leave her crumpled.
It happened so fast, Willow struggled to sort it out.
Branches breaking, something barreling through the forest. Something—no, someone—landed on her and covered her entire body with his warm, solid protection. He put his arms around her head. “Don’t move.”
On the trail, feet thundered and shouts rang out.
Another roar shredded the twilight; the grizzly exploded down the trail toward them.
Then, the voice beside her. “Now, Pete!”
The thump of a tranquilizer gun—one dart, two, another.
And all that time, Sam hunched over her, his elbows bracketing her shoulders, his head down beside hers, his long legs tucked around her.
Shielding her body with his.
“She’s down!” Pete said. Two more shots. “Cubs are hit.”
Only then did Willow realize that she was shaking.
“Shh,” Sam said softly, his voice in her ear, steady, tender. “It’s over.”
Next to her, Quinn got up, launched himself out through the forest, to the trail.
Sam, however, simply held her, his hands on her arms, his forehead against her neck. He seemed to be trembling. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice roughened. “You’re okay.”
He took a breath and sat back.
She rolled over, sat up.
He was sitting on the forest floor, breathing hard, looking a little stripped. He wore a flannel shirt, his jeans, his hair rucked up as sweat trickled down his face. Such a handsome face, even in the purples of twilight. The bruises from last week had healed, just the slightest gray over his eye, and the cut on his cheek was now a thin line. The barest layer of whiskers darkened his jaw, and his eyes were so devastatingly blue and filled with something she couldn’t quite place.
Or maybe . . . love? Shining out from a heart that he wore right there, on the outside of his body. “Willow, you really scared me.”
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Then, in a whisper, “You came for me.”
“I told you I would.” The warmth in his eyes elicited a shiver, right down her spine, and he reached out, cupping her face with his hand. “I’m so sorry it took me so long.”
“You got here just in time—”
“No, Willow. I’m sorry it took me so long to stop being a fool. To come to you and tell you that I love you.” He said it without pause, no fear, and even chased it with a smile. “I love you so much that I can’t breathe if you’re not around me. If you don’t say you love me back, I might just—”
“I love you, Sam. I have for a while now. You make me feel smart and beautiful and—”
“It’s because you are smart and beautiful. And brave. And—”
She kissed him. Curled her hand in his shirt and pulled him to herself, just in case he thought he could escape.
Which, apparently, he had no intention of doing because he put his arms around her and dove in. The kind of kiss that told her that, while she’d started it, he’d take it from here. That she didn’t have to worry about who wanted whom, or if he’d show up.
He poured everything he had into his touch, all his heart, no fear, no darkness. Pure light.
All Sam.
He finally gave a soft, sweet groan of desire and broke away, just as she decided that she could stay forever tucked into the piney forest of the Rocky Mountains with Sam in her arms.
“We’d better get going before Pete decides you need rescuing,” Sam said, winking.
“Or you.”
“Oh,” he said, helping her up, catching her in his arms, his eyes sparking with mischief, with life, “I’ve already been rescued.”
Epilogue
“ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS? Because we don’t have to—”