Chapter 407
When Chris said he would carry her, Winter instinctively took half a step back. But his grip tightened
around her wrist.
It was as if an invisible cord connected them. The moment she stepped back, Chris pulled her right back. Then he lifted a hand and brushed something away from the back of her head. It was a branch that had almost hit her forehead.
“ It’s not like I haven’t carried you before,” he said, his tone meaningful.
He pulled her closer, then turned and crouched slightly in front of her.
The hand that had been gripping her wrist moved behind him and settled against her lower back.
A shiver ran through Winter. She planted both hands firmly against his broad back and insisted, “I said I don’t need you to p>
Only when her hands pressed against him did she realize his clothes were soaked through.
Of course they were. They had walked all this way through the rain, with water falling from the sky and dripping from the branches overhead. Her waterproof jacket had kept her dry. The rain simply rolled off her hood, down her shoulders, and onto the ground without soaking through.
But Chris’s shirt was not waterproof. Beneath her palms, his back felt cold, without a trace of warmth.
And yet he hadn’t said a word.
Noticing her hands stiffen against his back, Chris maintained his nonchalant tone. “I’m fine. Get on p>
A single raindrop fell from the branches, hitting his shoulder with a soft tap.
Winter’s fingers curled instinctively, and a soft, muffled “Okay” escaped from the back of her throat.
Chris crouched, and she gently leaned onto his back, wrapping both arms around his neck.
He stood easily, one hand supporting her behind him while the other held the gun.
The woods were thick with weeds, and the ground was uneven, but he moved through it as steadily as if he were walking on flat ground. His steps were firm and fast. If not for the branches in the way, Winter had no doubt he could have run with her on his back.
She barely felt a jolt.
Rain continued to fall in scattered taps, dripping from the branches onto her hood and back before sliding down the waterproof fabric to the ground.
It no longer fell on Chris.
Silently, Winter shifted her arms outward. The jacket was too big on her, but it was just wide enough to
cover Chris’s shoulders.
It felt like muscle memory, something her body remembered before her mind could catch up.
By the time she realized what she was doing, she was already using her own body to block most of the rain
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for him.
Feeling her small movements, Chris came to a sudden stop.
Gunfire and explosions echoed all around them. The moment he stopped, Winter’s heart jumped into her throat. Before she could ask what was wrong, Chris spoke.
“Winnie p>
“Yeah?” she whispered from his back.
Chris tightened his grip on the gun. “Worry about yourself. A little rain doesn’t bother me p>
Realizing he had noticed what she was doing, Winter pressed her lips together. “Am I slowing you down p>
“No,” Chris answered instantly.
“ Then shut up,” Winter snapped.
Chris lowered his eyes. A flicker of light passed through his dark gaze. The hand supporting her suddenly tightened, and his entire arm went taut.
Winter felt the change immediately.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
Then Winter nudged him. “Chris, are we moving or not p>
Her voice was soft and quiet, so close to his neck that her breath brushed his skin, faint and warm.
Chris pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth. His arm stayed tense, the rain–soaked sleeve clinging to it and outlining the raised veins beneath.
Rain continued to wash over the cold, wet cliffside.
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Florence
A passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.