Page 32 of Sutton's Shadow

“Are you okay?” he asked, his thumb gently stroking the sensitive skin behind her ear.

Sutton choked back the sob that wanted to escape at the gentle touch, blinking several times to remove the burn of impending tears before they fell. It had been so long since she’d felt someone else’s touch, and Wyatt had touched her quite a bit in the last few days. She squashed the voice that wanted to plead for more.

“I... I’m fine.” She needed to get out of here, out of his truck, before she lost it. She hated this weakness. Hated that her hands still shook both from the incident on the pier and her flashback. Hated the vulnerability. Her emotions were so close to the surface. Something she had never experienced in the past.

The need to flee pushed her into action. She pulled on the door handle, not realizing it was locked. The locks clicked open, and she pulled again. This time the door opened easily, and she practically fell out in her haste to escape. She couldn’t tell if she was running from Wyatt or her uncontrollable emotions.

Sutton made it to her car before she heard him call her name. Her hand ready to pull the door open, she froze. His footsteps approached from behind. She sucked in a big breath and pushed her shoulders back before turning to face him.

“You forgot this,” he said, holding her camera out to her.

“Thank you.” Her cheeks heated as she grabbed her Nikon. Having been in such a hurry to escape; she couldn’t believe she’d left it behind.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You hit your head pretty hard when you got knocked down.” He reached out, his fingers delving into her hair near her temple, exposing the scar. She jerked her head back out of his reach, flipping her hair forward to hide the mark. “You’ve got a pretty good goose egg there.”

Her fingers flew to the side of her head, feeling the bump she hadn’t realized was there. She winced as she probed it. It hurt, but she’d had worse.

Sutton forced herself to meet his still concerned gaze. “I’m fine. I just need to get home.”

He stepped back, nodding. “Okay.” He paused, studying her intently. “Sutton, about the other day?”

“Forget it,” she insisted, unwilling to go there with him.

“But I think I owe you an apology. I never meant?”

“Just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.” He peered down at her, his gaze skimming her features. He looked like he was about to argue, but whatever he perceived in her expression made him take a step back.

“Take some pain medication when you get home. That should help with the headache I’m sure you’re going to have. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

Nodding, she turned to pull the door open, easing her body?which was just now making its aches and pains noticeable?into the seat.

Wyatt had his hand on the doorframe when she reached out to close it. “Take care, shutterbug.” Then he shut her door and walked back to his truck, his limp more evident.

Sutton watched him go, stunned at the underlying emotion she could have sworn she heard in those parting words. After watching him pull out of the parking lot, she shook off her pensiveness and started her car. She turned out of the lot, determined to put this day and its confusing mix of emotions behind her.

Chapter 10

Wyattstoodonthesidewalk outside Sutton’s studio, debating whether to go inside. He’d been worried about her since the incident on the pier and her reluctance to talk about that kiss. The myriad of emotions that passed through her expression as she’d sat in his truck were extensive. And he was pretty sure she’d experienced a flashback. Her breathing had become labored, her eyes blank. She was lost somewhere she didn’t want to be. And it happened after she’d spotted the blood on his arm. He wondered what the flashback had been about and ached to ask her. To gather her into his arms and comfort her until the shadows of the past faded.

But like the idiot he was, he’d lashed out at her instead. His fear of what could have happened simmered, and before he knew it, he was sniping at her. He’d been angry with her, but not because of the accident. It bothered him that she believed she wasn’t worth the risk. What the fuck was that all about?

Not worthy? That kind of talk pissed him off. If anyone was worthy, it was her. Remembering her with those girls in Afghanistan, her kindness, her care, she had been a rare treasure in a war-torn area where those qualities had been in short supply. He’d only worked with her a few times, but he’d followed her career and ignored the derogatory things that had been thrown around about her. He’d seen her true heart that day and understood her need to take risks most people wouldn’t.

He still owed her an apology, both for his indiscretion and his remarks after the incident on the pier, which was why he was pacing outside her building. The other reason being that he was worried about her. No one had seen her in the last week.

A noise from inside caught his attention. Sutton shuffled through the front room of her studio. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her hair was up in a haphazard bun, which resembled a rat’s nest, and her nose looked raw and red as she rubbed it with a tissue.

She was sick. Her blackout from her friends made a little more sense now. He was about to leave when she spotted him standing there. Her hand flew to her hair, as if she was self-conscious of its state. Then she dropped it, stiffened her shoulders, and walked to the door. Unlocking it, she coughed as she leaned out to greet him.

“Wyatt?”

“Sorry to bother you. I didn’t realize you were sick.” His mind went blank. He couldn’t think of anything to say. All the words of apology that ran through his brain abandoned him. He stared at her. Even sick and wearing baggy sweats, she was still a stunning woman. He needed to take care of her. He wanted nothing more than to tuck her into bed and make her a bowl of soup, as well as handle anything else she might need while feeling under the weather.

“Did you need something?”

He shook his head. “I should be asking you that.”

“What do you mean?”

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