inside at that memory, too. She would never let herself be that vulnerable again.
She got it. He’d only left her the reassurance of his quick return to shut her up.
At first she’d wanted an explanation from him. Now? She wanted to just drop it. “I’d prefer it if we just forget about that.”
“Sure. I think that’s best. But not before I apologize for behaving like I did. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Alice.” He frowned, hesitating as though he struggled with the words. “I’m...sorry.”
His words jolted her. The regret in his gaze stripped her bare. She hadn’t expected a heartfelt apology from him.
But he’d gone to Kenya.
And you never came back.
Alice definitely wouldn’t say those words out loud. Oh, why do you have to be such a great guy, I mean, to apologize, even? How many guys were willing to accept responsibility for their mistakes?
Regrettably not many, at least that Alice had met.
“So, are we good?” He flashed his irresistible grin.
And she wished he hadn’t. He was entirely too charming and her emotions betrayed her to respond to him like this. Still, she returned his smile and wanted to say it was so. They were good and she understood and had forgiven him. If only the pain from his departure didn’t still linger. If only he wasn’t sitting there again in the apartment, much too near for her. If only she could actually trust him.
“Alice?”
What kind of person would she be if she didn’t truly forgive him now? Maybe the words would bring her heart along. “Yes, all is forgiven.”
But not forgotten.
Hearing those words eased the weight on his heart, but they didn’t erase it. She’d forgiven, but she still hadn’t let it go. Obviously, he hadn’t, either. Maybe neither of them would. But he’d said what he’d come to say and that’s all he could do about his actions of the past.
Now might as well focus on the dangers of the present.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Why don’t you tell me who you think followed you?”
“I think it could have been someone related to the marijuana operation.”
This news wasn’t good. “Tell me what happened, then.”
He’d gotten his camera set up. Could use the video and record her story, which was his usual practice, but the way she looked at him now—Griffin hesitated. She’d hate it if the camera captured her looking this vulnerable and frightened. This wasn’t the right time. He shut off the camera. “It’s just you and me, Alice. No camera.”
There. That had been the right decision. She visibly relaxed.
“But what about your uncle? He won’t be mad that you questioned me before he got the details?” That soft smile again, her pretty lips a natural shade of pink.
“I guess if he wanted to be the first to hear your story, he should have gone out of his way to get here tonight like I did. But the reason I’m asking you now is because of your reaction when you rushed up to me tonight. You said someone followed you. I’m concerned for your safety, and that’s not something that can just wait until tomorrow. Just tell me what happened.”
Griffin tugged a handgun out and set it on the table, letting her know he’d come prepared. Then Alice spilled the details of her story and Griffin listened, never taking his eyes from her. As she relayed running through the woods with Marie, being chased by men with their weapons—AR-15 rifles converted to fully automatic assault rifles—he noticed the subtle shift in her demeanor as the terror took hold of her again.
He felt her terror as if it were his own, all the way to his marrow.
Griffin wasn’t sure when it happened, but he found himself sitting next to her on the sofa, holding her. Her soft warm form in his arms made him crazy, but more pressing was the terrifying realization that he could have lost her. Except she’d never been his to lose in the first place.
He hadn’t wanted the risk to his heart, and had no claim on her.
Still.
Alice could have been killed out there.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed the pain of that thought away. Wasn’t that the very reason he avoided getting too close to her? No one was immune to tragedy. If anyone knew that, he did.
He released her and bolted to his feet. “And you think the man knows who you are? Or was he bluffing? Trying to scare you?” That would be better. So much better.
“His face was familiar to me. Yes, I think he knows me.”
The news deflated his hopes. “Knows your name and where you live?” But Griffin admitted to himself unfortunately that information would be easy to come by in today’s world.
Alice rose and paced the small space. “Maybe.”
Griffin gripped her shoulders. Forced her to look at him. “I don’t want you going home. You sleep in this apartment tonight. I’ll sleep downstairs in the office on the sofa.” Right. He wouldn’t sleep a wink. He’d keep watch until his sheriff uncle arrived in the morning. “Okay?”
She nodded, her lips spreading into a half smile. He shouldn’t think about her lips. Or how perfect they were.
“Sure, okay. There’s no point in lying. I’m scared to sleep at home tonight. I have my own weapon, but if several men attacked at once, it wouldn’t be enough.” She shuddered. “The idea of home doesn’t feel safe at all anymore. Not to mention, how can I ever hike in those woods again? If I can’t hike and I can’t be a river guide, then what use am I to the family wilderness excursion business? I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
He should have said something then. Comforted her.
Instead he dropped his hands and moved to the kitchen in search of a drink. He opened the fridge and found it stocked with sodas and bottled water. He grabbed two waters and tossed her one. He’d needed the distraction so she wouldn’t see his face at the revelation that she couldn’t be a river guide anymore.
He’d read the news. Knew she’d guided a group down the river and lost someone. He’d known that must have upset her. But had it affected her so deeply that she hadn’t gone back into the river? That had to crush her. She lived for that white-water rapid rush. Had been one of the best guides. After all, only five years ago she’d won a bronze medal in the Olympic white-water slalom, or canoe slalom as it was called. She still had it in her.
He caught her gaze and held it as they each lifted their bottled waters to their lips.
Finished, he finally said what he should have said before. “You’ll hike again, Alice. And you’ll take the river again. Life happens. And death.” She couldn’t have any idea just how much death happened. But he knew—images
