Page 19 of Rescued Hearts

She scanned the parking lot, packages wobbling in her arms with her quick intakes of breath. As he looked on, she backed up against the side of the building.

His pulse ticked faster. He’d seen things like this before—people trying to disappear into the cracks. People who had something to be afraid of.

People who were hunted.

As he approached, the woman inched to the other far corner of the building and peeked around the side, completely oblivious to him. Which was even more dangerous. No one should ever be unaware of their surroundings.

“What are you doing?”

She gasped, spinning so fast that two packages hit the ground.

Gray held up his hands to indicate he was harmless. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He took a step toward the things she dropped. “Let me just grab these for you.”

Those blue eyes skittered left to right and then darted back to the cars passing on the street out front.

Moving with the same slowness he’d approach a bomber—or a frightened horse—he crouched to scoop up the packages. Her expression flipped between alarm and exasperation.

He held out the packages to her, noting the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the way her fingers trembled when she reached for the items.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing put that worried line between your brows?”

Her chest dropped on the air trickling out of her. “I thought I saw someone I knew. That’s all.”

“Who?”

When she didn’t respond to him, he crossed his arms. Maybe it was a dick move, getting into the you-better-tell-me-now stance, but he found it usually got him answers.

“What’s your name?”

She gave him a sideways look, blue eyes tumbling over his face to his chest. “Honor. Who are you?”

“Gray.”

Her gaze snapped back to his for a suspended heartbeat.

“Now that the introductions are out of the way, are you going to tell me who you thought you saw?”

After a long second, she huffed out an annoyed breath. “Fine. I thought I saw my ex.”

Something inside him went cold.

He’d spent enough time in the military to know there was a story here. One she wasn’t eager to share.

He didn’t push, but continued to take in everything about her demeanor. Whatever she had seen—or thought she did—rattled her.

“I’ve seen you twice. Do you live here now?”

“I’m staying with my sister. She owns the bookstore.”

Now he recalled her discussion with the barista at the coffee shop. He’d never been in the bookstore before but had seen the owner around Willowbrook.

Studying Honor closely, he noted the family resemblance in her light hair and blue eyes.

He didn’t know what made him want to keep her here with him, talking. But the thought of leaving a frightened womanalone—especially one who thought she’d seen her ex—didn’t sit well with him.

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