He didn’t approve of her tactics. And she had to admit, she wasn’t real thrilled with them either—which was why she’d tried to backpedal a bit on the phone, but the truth was, she wasn’t completely sure she didn’t need to talk to someone. “She asked me that too and I hedged my answer. Then felt guilty. I did try to back up and say I wasn’t suicidal, but she cut me off.” And Sarah had gone with it. Maybe because deep down, she wanted the appointment for more reasons than she wanted to admit to. She glanced out the window, wishing she could turn off her thoughts, while noting the passing scenery for the first time. “Where are we going?”

“Thought we’d take a little drive.”

“What for?”

“You look tired, and the last time you fell asleep while I was driving, you didn’t have any dreams.”

He was right. Interesting. “So, you’re treating me like a toddler and driving me around until I fall asleep?”

A laugh slipped from him. “I hadn’t thought of it quite like that, but if the description fits . . .”

“Funny.” She took another look around. “It’s really peaceful out here, though, isn’t it?” A two-lane road with green trees lining either side. “Wait a minute, are we in North Carolina?”

“Close.”

“Okay, then.” She blinked, yawned, and refused to close her eyes. “What do your tats mean?”

He shot her a quick look. “Different things.”

“Like?”

“Nosey, aren’t you?”

She pursed her lips. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I’ll have you know it’s considered a strength—an actual requirement—in my profession.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm? What does that mean?”

He raised a brow. “Nothing.”

“Okay . . . so?”

“So what?”

She was going to hurt him. “Quit avoiding the question. The tattoos. What do they mean?”

“They mean different things. They represent different areas of my life.”

“And?”

A sigh slipped from him. “If I tell you my story, are you going to finish telling me yours?”

Ouch. “Um . . . touché.”

Another glance from him. “Okay, this one.” He pointed to the cross on his right bicep. He wore short sleeves even though fall was coming and the days were cooler. “I was in a really tough spot and thought I was dead. It was only by divine intervention that I’m not. When I start to question things like why I’m on this earth, I just look at that reminder and know that I’m here for a purpose.”

Chills danced up her arms. “I love that,” she whispered.

He smiled. “Thanks.”

“What kind of divine intervention?”

His jaw tightened. “My parachute didn’t open.”

She gasped. “What?”

“Neither did my backup.”

“Gavin, that’s . . . that’s awful.”

“Fortunately, a buddy saw I was in trouble and managed to get to me in time. It was a rough landing, but at least we lived.”