Page 39 of Trust

That edge of sarcasm is her tell. She’s deflecting the pain.

“We’ll try one more time,” I say gently. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll figure out another way.”

She nods, exhaling slowly.

This time, I don’t count to three. I push right before two.

Crack.

She gasps, blinking like someone surfacing from deep water. “You tricked me!”

“And you’re not wincing anymore. You’re welcome.”

She pushes herself up slowly, careful not to twist again, and I offer her a hand without thinking. She takes it instantly and I help her to her feet. Her foot snags the blanket, and she stumbles forward with a startled breath. I react fast, instinctively catching her by the waist as she grabs my shoulders to steady herself.

We freeze. She’s pressed against me, both of us hardly wearing any clothes, gripping tighter than we need to.

My hands hold her firmly, her fingers curling ever so slightly against my bare skin. Our eyes meet. Confusion flashes in hers, probably mirrored in mine.

She doesn’t pull away.

Neither do I.

The moment catches up to us, and we both let go and take a step back.

“Get ready,” I say, my voice strained. “Let’s go for a walk. Loosen up the rest of those muscles.”

Out in the hallway, I lean a hand against the wall, trying to force my thoughts into order.

What the hell was that?

Oh no, buddy, I almost say out loud when I spot the tent in my boxers. It’s just a physical reaction. It’s been a while since I last felt naked skin against mine. She’s beautiful, and we were close. That’s what I tell myself, anyway. I can’t go there. I won’t. It’s a job. She’s leaving in a few weeks, going back to a world without forests and fishing and peaceful mornings.

Whatever happened in there... it can’t happen again.

SUNSHINE

Sara

Forcing slow breaths, I’m trying to regain control over my body, over my mind. Especially my mind. The image of him barging in here bare-chested with hard eyes and ready to strike won’t leave me. That man is a force of nature, the embodiment of sheer power.

It’s not the first time I’ve noticed. On day one, I caught a glimpse when he was in front of the mirror in the bathroom. But somehow that was different. I wanted to put a knife in him, not my hands on him. Now my fingertips tingle with the memory of his warm skin.

Something changed in those last ten minutes. The vibes. The pace. My pulse. He turned away first, as if he was thrown off by his own reaction.

My nails bite into my palms.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

This isn’t some meet-cute. He works for my father. He kidnapped me. Treating me as a person now doesn’t erase what he’s done. It doesn’t make him safe. I shake it all off and start my day.

As I approach the stairs, voices reach me. Plural. It’s quiet enough up here that sound carries. Chris’s voice is low, and a lighter note curls around it like smoke, tinged with the same male confidence. I hover at the top step, straining to catch the words.

Sneaking down, the wood betrays me with a creak underfoot. Cash leans against the backrest of the couch, grinning straight at me. I’m caught.

“Hey, Sunshine. You look better.” No sarcasm signals go off when he talks, which somehow makes it harder to hate him. I narrow my eyes but keep my mouth shut.