Page 6

“And she just complained for her entire stay. You’d think she was dying, but no, just a burst appendix.”

Briar hadn’t stopped talking the entire run. Actually, it was less talking and more complaining. Mostly about her patients at work, but also about every single person she came into contact with in Amber Ridge. Her ex-husband had received a few special mentions.

Deb had run with them for a bit. He liked her. She was funny. Good at countering Briar’s negativity. But the woman had obviously grown sick of Briar’s moaning and was now running with someone else.

His gaze shifted to Clara. She was running with Malcolm and Scarlett a few feet ahead. He was intentionally jogging slowly to remain behind her so he could keep his eyes on her. So far, she looked to be doing okay. Although, the farther they got, the more sluggish her movements became.

Suddenly, Clara glanced over her shoulder and looked at him. Her eyes flared when she saw him staring back. Then she quickly looked forward again. She’d done that a few times. And every time, Malcolm glanced back too, looking at him and Briar, before focusing on the road in front of him.

It had hit Holden two seconds into the run who Malcolm was…the jerk from the street party three years ago who’d pawed Clara’s chest after spilling beer on her.

A tightness clutched at his lungs at the memory of that night. Of the words she’d spoken to him. And the words he’d said back.

Fuck, he wanted to kick his own ass at how he’d handled that.

You’d be so easy to love.

He’d been drinking, and the sight of Clara in his sweatshirt had made something deep and primal spring to life inside him.

But even if he hadn’t been drinking and the sun had been up and emotions weren’t heightened, he wasn’t sure what the hell he would have said.

That fear of loving someone completely, of needing and relying on them, still lived inside him, and shit, it was burrowed deep.

“Don’t you think?”

He looked down at Briar. Dammit. What had she said? “Yeah, I agree.”

“ Thank you ,” she huffed.

Surely, they were almost done. “How long is this run?”

“Five miles. So we’re about halfway.”

“That’s more of an intermediate run. Wasn’t this designed so anyone in the community could join?”

“It was designed to help people get and remain fit. That won’t happen if we only run a mile or two.”

Suddenly, Clara stumbled, her knees hitting the ground hard.

Shit .

Holden sped up, but Malcolm was already crouched beside her, setting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Holden lowered on her other side and scanned her body, his gaze stopping on her knees. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine. They’re just grazes.”

She was breathing quickly. Too quickly.

Scarlett huffed. “I’m going to jog with Helen and Deb.” She started moving again.

Briar continued to jog in place. “Come on, we’re going to be left behind. She said she’s fine.”

“I’ll stay with her.”

Holden’s eyes narrowed on Malcolm at his words. “No, I’ll stay with her.”

Malcolm frowned. “I’m a doctor—”

“I don’t think it takes a doctor to clean a scraped knee.”

He opened his mouth, presumably to argue, but Clara touched his shoulder. “I’m fine, Malcolm. Go rejoin the run.”

His brows flickered. He clearly didn’t like it, but he rose and started running, Briar taking off beside him.

Clara looked back at Holden, head tilted. “You didn’t need to stay.”

“I know.” He started to slide his hands beneath her knees and back, but she gasped and pushed at his chest.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m carrying you back to my truck. I have a first aid kit in there.”

Her eyes widened. “Like hell you are. I’ll walk.”

“Clara—”

“Don’t Clara me.” She went to push up, and he growled and took her arm to help her. “You showed up when I asked you not to. You stayed with me when I told you I was fine. You are not carrying me back against my wishes as well.”

“I’m trying to look out for you.”

“Because you think I can’t look after myself?”

He took a second longer than he should have to answer, and that was all it took for hurt to cut across Clara’s features. She started walking back the way they’d come.

He took several long strides to catch up. “Because I care about you.”

Some of the anger slipped from her features. “You don’t play fair.”

“Never said I did.”

As they walked back, they cut through the side streets. The entire way, he itched to slip his arm around her waist and shoulder some of her weight. But he already knew he’d get an elbow to the gut.

“Do you carry a first aid kit everywhere?” she asked.

“Yep. Never know when I might hammer my finger instead of a nail.”

She snorted, and immediately her cheeks went a pretty pink shade.

He grinned. “What? You don’t think I can hammer my finger instead of a nail?”

“I think if you’re coordinated enough to be one of the deadliest, best-trained soldiers in the world, then you wouldn’t be taken down by a meager hammer.”

“Uh-huh, but you see, a lot of damage can be done with a hammer.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh yeah. Swing it with enough impact and some serious harm occurs, especially aimed at soft tissue.”

Her brows dipped. “I’ll remember that.”

“If you ever need to use a weapon like that for self-defense, attack joints like knees and elbows, or pressure points like wrists, to immobilize or disarm an attacker.”

“I won’t—”

“You might. Everyone should know at least basic self-defense.”

She looked away from him.

When they finally reached his truck, she sat on the grass while he got his first aid kit.

“So,” she started, sounding almost nervous, “how do you know the woman you were running with?”

He squatted beside her and poured some water over her knees to clean the wounds, biting back a grin at the way she said it. “I’m quoting Briar’s kitchen cabinetry.”

“Hm.”

He dabbed her knees with antiseptic wipes. “Do you know her?”

“Those were her irises I bought.”

“She mentioned something about that.”

“She seems fit.” Clara plucked at a blade of grass. “She didn’t lose her breath like the rest of us.”

He grabbed a bandage from the kit and applied it to her knee. “She organized the event, so I’m sure she’s a runner.”

“She doesn’t strike me as a do-gooder type.”

“Clara Hayes. It’s not like you to say something unkind about someone.”

She rolled her eyes. “I bet you were thinking it. Does she really seem like someone who would organize a community event out of the kindness of her heart?”

“I don’t really know her well enough to make that judgment.” He closed his first aid kit.

“Maybe you can get to know her while you renovate her kitchen.”

“Maybe.” He sat back. “All done.”

“Thank you.” She wet her lips. “And even though I didn’t want you to come today…thank you for looking out for me.”

His lips stretched into a smile. “That was hard for you, wasn’t it?”

Another roll of her eyes. “I’m going now.”

She stood and took a step away from him, but he rose and gripped her arm, tugging her back. “Hey.”

She turned, eyes wide.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ll always look out for you, Clara.” Even though it was a dangerous fucking game to be around her.