Page 30 of Forbidden Passions

“You broke his heart,” Gabriel observed.

“Better than having him get lost again. I don’t think I could stand that.”

Gabriel went silent. I looked at him, wondering what was going through his head.

“What?” I asked.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised how good you are with him.”

“I like silent and moody,” I said lightly. “They’re my specialty.”

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

We headed into the woods, the trail muddy and uneven beneath our feet. Gabriel led the way, his hand steadying me when I slipped on a slick patch. Ferns brushed against my calves, and the cool air filled my lungs.

We didn’t talk much on the walk, but it didn’t feel like silence anymore. It felt like something shared. The sound of rushing water grew louder as we neared the creek, and when we reached it, I froze.

It wasn’t just a creek. It was a torrent—wild, churning, alive with sound and fury. The banks were swollen, water thrashing over rocks, surging with unstoppable energy.

It looked like him.

Untamed. Dangerous. Beautiful even.

Gabriel stood beside me, arms crossed, his gaze locked on the current.

“It’s incredible,” I breathed.

He nodded. “It gets like this after big storms but doesn’t stay that way long.”

“Still. Wow.” I tucked my hands into the too-long sleeves of his jacket. “Kind of reminds me of you.”

He glanced at me. “Yeah?”

“Fierce. Controlled. But when the storm hits, unstoppable.”

He didn’t reply, but his expression shifted—something raw flickering through it.

“It will still take me a few more days to get the shots I need,” I said after a long silence.

He didn’t react at first, then he looked at me like he wanted to say something. Before he stopped himself.

“I’m not asking for anything,” I said quietly.

He nodded once, jaw tight. “The water is still too high. I’ll need to check the bridge before I can drive over it.”

We stood there for a while longer, side by side, not touching but somehow more connected than ever.

And in that moment, watching the wild water crash against the rocks, I realized something I hadn’t wanted to admit.

I was in love with him.

Not the idea of him. Not the mountain man fantasy.

But Gabriel—the wounded warrior who had somehow, impossibly, stolen my heart.

I almost said it, the words burning at the back of my throat.

But I didn’t.

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