Page 43 of Stormswept Colorado

I was smiling as I got to work. It was surprisingly effortless to find a flow. I almost forgot Teller was listening. My fingersmoved over the tablet screen, jotting down different lines as I sang them to try them out.

More of the song took form. Would’ve been better to have a guitar or piano in front of me, but this was the next best thing.

When I looked up after a while, snow swirled in gusts outside. The view had expanded into a gorgeous winter panorama. Evergreens dusted with white, a broad valley. Mountains rose to our right, obscured by heavy clouds.

A large truck rattled past us going the other way. There weren’t many other vehicles out. The heater was blasting, and yet the chill from outside made its way through the minute gaps around the door. The wind howled.

Teller had a look of serious concentration on his face. “That was beautiful,” he murmured. “The song you’re writing.”

His compliment sent a tingle of pleasure down my spine. “Thanks. I have tunnel vision when I’m working. How long have we been driving?”

“About an hour and a half. I promise I can handle the driving part. Just don’t ask me to write any music. Have you always been able to do that? Just…make it up that way?”

I grinned. “That’s how it works. Sometimes I have to agonize over the bridge or the perfect outro or a rhyme that doesn’t want to fit. But mostly, the music just comes to me, as long as I’m feeling inspired.”

“Impressive.”

“I appreciate you saying that. But to me, it’s more like…sleeping or eating. Something I have to do to survive. When I was a kid, music was my escape.”

Teller reached over and squeezed my knee, then quickly returned his grip to the steering wheel. His face morphed into a shocked expression, as if he hadn’t expected himself to do that. Touch me that way.

I hadn’t either, but I hadn’t disliked it.

Instead, a feeling of longing raced through me. Teller made my heart rate speed up, but in the best way. Because there was stillthat sense of comfort underneath. A gentleness even when he was rough.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“I don’t mind if you touch me.”

His gaze slashed in my direction. “I should’ve asked.”

“You didn’t ask yesterday on Main Street when you carried me away from the fight. Or when you arrested me.” Or earlier today, even, when he’d found me upset over that email.

He was watching the road again. The tip of his tongue traced his lower lip. “Maybe touching you meant something different before.”

I sucked in a breath, unable to look away from him. Wanting his hand on me again. Wanting to confess things that I’d never told anyone, and why was that? I didn’t even know him.

Why did Teller Landry have such an effect on me?

Then a bunch of things happened all at the same time.

Teller cursed and swerved the steering wheel. I looked up to see a huge, dark shape on the snow-packed road. I screamed.

The SUV bucked hard, then slammed to a sudden stop.

FIFTEEN

Teller

Static roared in my ears.My vision blurred like I was underwater.

Gunfire. Screams.

Pain.

Then a whimper from beside me.Ayla. She was here.

I followed her voice like a lifeline back to the surface and out of my waking nightmare. Had to force myself to breathe. What had sounded like gunfire in my memory was just the ticking of the engine.

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