Yun had been telling him for months he needed to get back out there again, and Gabe had all but dismissed her as not knowing what he really needed. He liked being able to eat whatever called to him in the moment and shoot away for the weekends with Samson. He still got satisfaction in not picking up his messes until doing so suited him. And he already had to fight Samson for adequate space on the mattress. But maybe Yun had been more right than he could even begin to comprehend. It was as if a long-slumbering part of him was stepping out of a nearly impenetrable fog.

Hot water washed over him as he stepped in, stinging the scrapes on his back and sending a cascade of floodwater residue down the drain. How come he’d never realized his shower was so heavenly? Tonight, it didn’t even matter that the showerhead was partly calcified from hard water and beat down on him in an irregular stream.

Olivia’s face was burned into his mind as clearly as if he were looking at a high-resolution photo of her. Those remarkable hazel eyes with flecks of gold and green, the delicate speckling of freckles across the bridge of her nose and tops of her cheeks, the long red hair that beckoned him to bury his hands in it, the long curve of her neck, the gentle point of her chin. And her lips… Just thinking about them sent a rush of blood to his groin. He could still recall the subtle hint of citrus that floated off her when she was against him. Then there was her body, long and lean and supple and yielding.

There was also the way she’d opened up around him, the way she’d let him in, telling him little bits about her life with rare and refreshing humility.

And possibly more important than any of this was what she’d said about him and Samson. Fear had rocketed through him when he’d spotted the unchecked admiration on her face about his heroics in the river. He’d not realized it at the time, but that’s what had initially drawn Claire to him, the allure of connecting with someone stronger than life, stronger than death. Then he’d walked into that fire, and she’d realized no one was stronger than either of those. Instead of accepting that the human experience was inextricably woven into both, she’d walked away in hopes of claiming a life more under her control.

What would he have done if Olivia had answered differently? Or if the answer she’d given had only been one she’d wanted him to hear? But he’d seen the truth of it in her eyes; she’d spoken from the heart.