Page 32 of Walking Away

Burke was already moving. He caught Danny Hurst by the collar, yanking him back before he could swing again. The other lunged, and Burke blocked the blow with a sharp, practiced motion.

“You got your one punch,” he said evenly. “Next stop’s jail—for both of you.”

The man who’d been hit clutched his chin, wincing. “Ahhh, Sheriff—just let me hit him once more!”

Burke shot him a look that said, ‘Don’t even think about it,’ then turned toward the bar. He caught Mike Stevens’s eye and sliced his hand across his throat. Mike nodded and killed the taps. The music faded, conversation stuttered, and in seconds the place went silent.

It lasted seconds. Darcy watched as Burke restored order without raising his voice—steady, composed, quietly in control. There was nothing showy about it, but he looked good doing it. Too good. The thought unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

Burke steered both men to the door, his authority absolute. When he turned back, the bar was already calm.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

“It’s okay.”

“How about that walk?”

She hesitated, eyes flicking toward the bar. The stranger was gone. She took Burke’s hand.

Darcy

They walked down Main Street, past glowing windows and the hum of laughter. Music spilled into the night—fiddles and guitars weaving through the air. For the first time in months, Darcy felt the faint outline of normal, though fear lingered just behind it.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Burke asked.

After a beat, she managed a faint smile. “I think it’s time I head back.”

“Let me drive. You’ve had a few drinks.”

“Burke, really—I can drive. It’s not far.”

He lifted a brow. “Up a mountain highway? Fifteen minutes of curves, in the dark? Humor me.”

His voice was low, warm as bourbon, the kind that found its way under her skin.

Color crept into her cheeks. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have had so many drinks.”

He opened the truck door for her, and when she stepped up, their hands brushed again—warm, sure. The spark wasn’t an accident this time.

They talked lightly on the drive back—about the campground, about finding a place to rent. His laugh filled the cab, easy and rich, the kind that made her forget she was supposed to be careful.

When he pulled into Moonshine Creek, he climbed out, circled to her side, and opened the door. As she stepped down, her foot caught. Strong arms steadied her instantly. For a breathless moment, their eyes met.

The air shifted. Time slowed. He leaned in just enough to give her the choice to move away. She didn’t. His lips brushed hers—soft, then firmer, lingering just long enough to make her forget the past and remember what it felt like to be wanted.

When they parted, she stood there, dazed by the surge of emotion.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly. “I’ll pick you up at ten to get your Jeep.”

She nodded, watching him until his taillights disappeared.

Inside, she leaned against the door, the faint trace of Burke’s cologne clinging to her skin, the tingle of his lips refusing to fade. She knew this couldn’t go anywhere—she was married, hiding under a name that wasn’t hers. Getting involved with a sheriff was madness. It had to end before it began. Tomorrow, she would put a stop to this.

Yet as her fingers brushed the place his mouth had been, she couldn’t stop the thought that slipped through—what it might be like to love a man who made her feel safe instead of claimed.

Chapter 18

Tether