Page 7 of Nothing But Air

He should be dead.

The thought, sharp and unwelcome, sliced through Eden’s mind as she stared across the ranger station at the man who’d just cheated gravity.

Teague stood near the window, grinning as if he hadn’t almost risked his life forty minutes ago. As if he hadn’t made her listen to every terrifying second of that insane leap over the radio while she sat helpless at her dispatch desk, her voice the only thing she could offer and her heart lodged somewhere in her throat.

He should be dead. But he’s not. And I’m the one who can’t stop shaking.

Heat crawled up her neck. She pressed her hands flat against the conference table and let the smooth, cool surface ground her. Around her, the North Rim ranger station hummed in the aftermath—voices overlapping, boots tracking red Arizona dust across worn carpet, the bitter smell of overbrewed Folgers mingling with sweat and climbing gear.

Three rangers clustered around Teague, watching the rescue replay that Xander had captured on his phone. Someone clapped him on the back. His auburn curls were a mess on his head, and chalk dust smudged his collar where it gaped open at the throat. He’d rolled his sleeves past his elbows, and he threw his head back and laughed at something Anya said.

Teague’s infuriating grin was aimed at the brunette, her blue eyes sparkling as she hung on every word.

The girl was a summer college student who worked the front desk of the lodge and paid way too much attention to Teague for Eden’s liking. Not that she cared who paid attention to Teague—at least, that was what she kept telling herself—but the girl had a hero-worship thing going on. That video surely didn’t help.

Something fluttered in Eden’s stomach. She crushed it. Immediately.

No. She wasn’t doing this again. Wasn’t falling for another climber with more confidence than sense.

Landon had smiled like that too. Right before?—

She cut the thought off. Sharp. Clean.

“Hey, Eden.” Xander materialized at her elbow, his smile warm, concerned. Dark-blond hair fell across his forehead in that effortless Chris Hemsworth way. “That was intense today. You did amazing as always.”

She forced herself to focus. Xander was handsome all right. He was also everything Teague wasn’t. Safe. Grounded. By the book. So naturally, her stupid heart had zero interest.

“Thanks,” she managed. “Just doing my job.”

“Still. You okay?” His gaze followed hers across the room. Understanding flickered in his eyes. Maybe resignation. “If you need to talk later…”

“I appreciate that.”

He slipped back into the crowd without another word.

Near the window, Anya leaned closer to Teague’s screen. “That was incredible. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast on a vertical face.”

Teague shrugged. “Wasn’t that impressive. Basic climbing technique.”

Basic. Right. And the Grand Canyon was just a ditch.

Eden crossed the room. The other rangers noticed her approach and fell silent, expressions shifting from excitement to wariness.

Good.

“We need to talk.” She ignored the stares. “Now.”

Teague’s grin faded. She stepped close enough to see the scrape along his jaw, the red dust in his beard stubble. To smell chalk and sweat and faint cedar aftershave. Close enough to see the pulse jumping at the base of his throat.

Focus, Garrison. You’re supposed to be furious.

“Sure.” He tucked his phone away. “What’s on your mind?”

“What’s on my—” She stopped. Took a breath. “You leaped eight feet without adequate protection. That’s what’s on my mind.”

“After jumping, I think it was closer to seven feet.” He held up a finger.

“Oh, well, in that case.” She crossed her arms. “Practically a little hop.”