Aric wasn’t looking as scared, and when she took his hand, his cold fingers squeezed hers. He said cousins only no sound came out.

“Spot on.” In one of the chairs, Lillian clapped her hands like she was all happy. “Since you’re Hawk’s boy, and you’re cousins with Regan, and she’s my grandchild, I do believe that makes you my grandson. You’ll have to call me Grammy like Regan does, and I will get to lavish you with treats.”

Oh, Lillian was tricksy. Regan had shown Aric the super-cool backpack Lillian had bought her for school. She leaned forward and whispered, “Grammy gives the best presents. Papá says she’s spoiling me, an’ now she can spoil you too.”

Uncle Bull’s laugh was really big. “Guess that makes me your Uncle Bull, yeah?”

On the other side of the sectional, there came another laugh. “Uncle Gabe. That’s me, Aric.” Regan turned to see Audrey kiss Uncle Gabe’s cheek. And the cop grinned. “I like the way the family’s getting bigger.”

Aric was still holding Regan’s hand, and she smirked.

She was going to get to keep him.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead. ~ Admiral David G. Farragut

As Hawk stowed the pots and dishes in the helicopter, Kit rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

What was Aric thinking? Was he crying? Afraid?

Just a bit ago, she tried to call on the satellite phone, but Hawk said the mountains around them would probably block the signal. He was right. Darn it.

There was nothing she could do. She was stuck here. So far from home. Behind the fog, the glow of the sun was descending behind the mountains. Night was coming.

Anxiety skittered across her skin like tiny pinpricks.

Hawk had been wonderful, but what if he stopped being so nice? Men changed—they did, and she was alone with him. No one was around for miles and miles.

Slowly, she backed toward the forest as her heart set up a horrible thumping inside her ribs.

As if he’d heard her move, he glanced over his shoulder. “Kit.” One word in a quiet baritone.

She stopped. Shook her head. Pulled in a breath. Get a grip, girl. “Sorry. What?”

“Got a tent for you. Or you can sleep in the helicopter.”

“My own tent?”

He nodded, watching her carefully. His movements were slow.

What should she choose? The helicopter had a door, yet there wasn’t any flat space. The seats sure weren’t comfortable.

Hawk would be able to get inside it anyway.

No, don’t think that way. She tried to unclench her fingers. “A tent would be great. I can help put it up.”

Since the bendy, light poles threaded through long tubes on the outside of the domes, the two tents went up so easily it was ridiculous. Hawk tossed a sleeping bag and inflatable pad into each.