Page 36 of Nothing But Air

For a moment, neither spoke. They simply stood on this tiny ledge suspended above the world.

His proximity made the space suddenly smaller. Intimate. He was close enough that warmth radiated from his body after the climb. Close enough that if she shifted her weight, her arm would brush his.

The wind picked up, catching strands that had escaped Eden’s braid. They whipped across her face, and she reached up?—

But Teague’s hand was already there.

His fingers brushed her cheek as he caught the wayward strands, tucking them gently behind her ear. The touch was feather-light. Careful.

And it sent a jolt straight through her chest.

His focus had shifted from the canyon to her face. Something unreadable flickered in his expression.

The wind pushed him closer. Close enough that she caught the faint scent of cedar and chalk and sweat and something uniquely him.

“Eden—”

Her name on his lips made her pulse jump. His eyes traced over her face—her eyes, her cheeks, lingering on her mouth for one heart-stopping moment—before snapping back to meet her gaze.

His jaw tightened, a muscle jumping.

Like he was fighting something.

This close, she could see flecks of gold in his green eyes. The dimple half hidden beneath scruff. The faint crescent scar by his right eye.

She should step back. Should put distance between them before this became something neither could take back.

But she didn’t.

His hand lifted. Hesitated. Then fell back to his side. As if he didn’t trust himself to touch her again.

“Do you feel ready for tomorrow’s climb?” His voice came out rough. Unsteady.

She nodded but didn’t move.

Neither did he.

Her phone alarm chimed from her pocket.

The sound shattered the moment. Eden fumbled for her phone, nearly dropping it over the edge.

“Sorry.” Breathless. “Reminder—I’m supposed to meet my team in thirty minutes.”

“Right.” Teague’s voice had gone carefully neutral, the vulnerability locked away behind professional detachment. He reached for his rappel device. “We should get moving.”

The descent was efficient. Silent.

They landed on solid ground with none of the easy camaraderie from earlier. Eden coiled the rope while Teague gathered quickdraws and cams, both moving with practiced efficiency that required no communication.

The tension followed them to the truck.

Teague drove with his eyes fixed on the dusty road, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Eden stared out the window at ponderosa pines blurring past.

What are you doing, Eden?

“We should talk about team assignments.” Teague’s tone was back to professional. Clipped. “Virgil wants a final decision today, and I want your input.”

“Mine?”