He leans in to my touch. “Can’t manage without slicing my own throat. Gonna need some help ’til I work out being a lefty.”

He holds up his bandaged hand to illustrate. It’s wrapped in gauze, but I know what’s underneath: a ragged bullet hole straight through his palm. He’s got all his fingers, but right now they’re useless. Rayburn says he might be able to get some function back, but it’ll be slow. The pain is nothing compared to the ache of knowing he’ll never draw from that hip again. He looks down at his hand, frowns and then uses it to pull me to him.

His breath is hot and sweet on my neck. “Do we got a sec for that sympathy lovin’ you promised me?” He runs his nose along my jaw. I shiver as fire surges through me.

Everyone else is at the van. Being alone with him sends tingles to all the right parts of my body. His arms slide around my waist and pull me to his chest. The heat from his body burns against mine. I look up into this eyes, steel blue with flecks of gray. He runs his hand through my hair, traces the pads of his fingers down neck, across my collarbone. I’m breathless. My head’s spinning.

“Everybody’s outside, right?” he asks, leaning in to kiss the hollow of my throat.

Blood is rushing to my head. “Mmm hmm.”

“Good,” he says, letting his lips trail up my neck to my chin. My heart’s thrumming like an electrical wire. His left hand grips the back of my head.

He pulls me closer. I smell the sweetness of his breath on my mouth. My heart pounds a crazy rhythm in my chest when our lips meet.

Kissing him is letting cool water slip over your body on a scorching day. Like the charge that crackles in the air after a lightening storm. Like the eating the last chocolate on earth, the sweetness melting on your tongue. I don’t have words for this feeling. I forget comparisons. I lean into his chest and wrap myself around him.

Outside the horn beeps. We pull apart, breathless. He kisses me on the forehead and then takes my hand. “Time to go.”

So much of me wants to stay here in this room with him and let the hours and days spin out around us. We’re heading back into dangerous country where every day something will threaten to pull us apart. I lace my fingers through his but don’t take a step forward. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face what awaits.

He tugs on my arm. “You ready?” His understanding eyes seem to realize what he’s asking.

I shake my head.