Page 74 of Trail to Trouble
After a few beats, Hunter rolled off her, pulling her along with him. She curled into the curve of his arm and rested her hand on his chest. His heartbeat tapped against her palm.
“I’ll be right back,” Hunter said as he edged away from her and slid out of bed.
She stared in awe at his backside as he slipped into the bathroom to rid himself of the condom, she supposed.
He returned a moment later, leaned the pillows up against the headboard, and climbed back in beside her, propped up just a smidge. The quilt covered him up to his mid-torso.
She elbowed herself up and stuffed a pillow behind her back to align herself with him. That’s when she noticed it. The scar from the bullet. That incident would haunt them forever. They’d never escape it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she responded, not wanting to ruin the beautiful moment they’d just shared.
He arched a brow.
She reached up and lightly placed her fingertip to the round, jagged-edged scar on the front of his right shoulder.
“We’ll always be reminded of that day. Those days, weeks, and years.”
“It’s okay. Just a scratch. All good.”
It wasn’t, though. He’d been shot.
With her fingers still touching his scar, he covered her hand with his.
“You didn’t do this.”
She hung her head.
He released her hand and placed his fingertips under her chin and lifted slightly, not stopping until their gazes met.
“I’m so glad you are here. You know that, right? I know we hardly knew each other, but I felt such a connection to you, and I missed you. I thought of you every day, hoping I’d see you again.”
“I thought of you too.”
He lifted his hand from hers, reached forward, and touched the small butterfly tattoo on her upper left breast. He traced the outline of it. She shivered.
“This is what finally gave you away, you know.”
“What?”
“The day of your presentation. Your face, eyes, and the way you moved were all familiar to me, but I didn’t believe it was really you because your name didn’t match, so I thought you were Hannah’s doppelganger. My mind worked to trick me that it wasn’t really you. But when you leaned over the table to gather your things, I saw it. Actually, I only saw the tips of the bright orange wings, but that was when I realized it was really you. As if you dropped on my doorstep for a reason.”
“I never showed you my tattoo back then.”
Because of its location, she hadn’t shown hardly anyone. The tattoo was personal to her. Not meant for just anyone to see.
He smiled softly.
“No, not intentionally, anyhow. One of my last memories of you was you dumping me into the hole created by the uprooted tree. You leaned over and kissed my forehead and apologized for leaving me covered in dirt and branches. I saw the tattoo when you hovered over me. It was the last thing I remembered of you.”
Shock raked through her.
“I was certain you were unconscious when I did that.”
“I nearly was. At that moment, everything cleared for me. I saw and heard you clearly through my slitted eyes. Then, the next thing I knew, I was surrounded by my family in a hospital room, and you were nowhere to be seen. Actually, I have to confess, the memory of that incident didn’t come back to me right away. It took a while.”
“I left a note,” she said weakly, suddenly feeling like a heel for the Dear John letter she’d left him.
