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ChapterTwenty-Three

Davis’s heart thrashed in his ears as Sunny struggled to clear the edge. His gaze jerked to the cams, then back to her. Would they hold if she lost her grip? She wouldn’t survive another drop.

Black spots danced across his vision just as she shimmied the rest of the way up. He collapsed forward, his forearms resting on his knees. Sucking in large gulps of air, he willed his pulse to slow down. When it didn’t feel like his chest would explode, he stood and cupped his hands around his mouth.

“Sunny?”

“I’m good.”

Her voice barely reached him, but it released the last of his anxiety. At least she’d made it out. He grabbed the few items strewn about and shoved them into his pack. As soon as she recovered, he wanted to be ready. Just as he’d zipped his pack closed, a rope knocked him in the head.

“Oops. Sorry.” Sunny’s snicker drew his gaze up.

She peered down the hole at him, her chest still heaving from her exertion. The sun shone behind her, keeping her features shadowed. He’d never seen anything as painfully beautiful as her safely out of that musty tomb.

“You going to hook up the pack or stare at me all day?” She adjusted her stance.

“Firefly, I’d be perfectly content gazing at you for the rest of my life.”

“Good, cause I’m thinking we stick together from here on out.” Her quick retort pushed the last of the chill from his bones.

“Agreed.” He nodded, a big, goofy smile stretching his cheeks in a way that was both foreign and welcome.

“But for now, why don’t you get to work?” She wiggled the rope. “I’m thinking a nice, long celebratory make-out session is called for, and I can’t do that on my own.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He saluted and quickly tied the pack to the rope. After she hauled both packs up, she lowered the harness down for him. He adjusted it to fit and clipped into the rope now secured to the rock wall. With his shoulder spiking pain with each pull, he made the ascent out of the mineshaft.

As he worked his way up the overhang, his arms shook and muscles burned like they were seconds from incineration. He’d climbed a lot of cliffs in his military career, but this one was trickier than all of them combined. It proved, once again, just how tough Sunny was. Maybe he should’ve settled on a different nickname, something that encapsulated her strength.

His fingers slipped, and he grunted. Now was not the time to be woolgathering. He tightened his grip and pulled himself up the last and hardest obstacle. When his head poked out of the hole like a meerkat, he was greeted with warm sunlight on his neck and Sunny sitting with her feet pressed against a jutting rock and the rope securing him to the cliff wrapped around her waist.

If he fell, the momentum would catapult her down with him. Only, she wouldn’t be strapped in. Murky cold slid along his skin. He scrambled up. When he anchored his fingers in a clump of grass to pull himself up, it yanked loose. He slid backwards, jerking to a halt when she clamped onto his arm.

“Hurry.” Her strained voice and wide eyes propelled his feet and hands to scamper the rest of the way out.

She tugged on him, adjusting her grip from his arm to his waist the further he crawled. When he’d made it all the way out, he collapsed to the ground, rolling onto his back. He snaked his good arm around Sunny and rolled her with him so she rested alongside him.

His lungs ached as he sucked in much-needed fresh, crisp air. He ran his hand down her shoulder when she propped herself up, smiled down at him, and laid a long, lingering kiss to his lips. He hadn’t had the chance to catch his breath from the exertion of climbing, but he’d take being short-winded if it meant making out with her.

“We made it.” She pulled back and stared down at him.

“Yeah.” The word croaked out.

Okay, maybe breathing was important. He inhaled, relishing the smell of warm grass. He took another hit, letting the air ease the burn in his lungs.

“You’re filthy.” She rubbed her finger across his forehead.

“You’re gorgeous.” He grabbed her hand, concern spiking at the mangled cuts and bruises the climb had created.

He kissed each fingertip, then her palm, and threaded their fingers together and set them on his chest. She sighed, tilting her head to the side and closing her eyes. She huffed out another breath, sat up, and rifled through her pack.

A cool breeze blew, rattling the leaves in the willows surrounding them. The wind tugged on her ponytail. He reached for the twirling strands and ran his fingers through the long, dark length, marveling as the soft strands slipped across his own beaten-up skin. Because of her bravery, they’d gotten out of that hellhole.

He meant it when he’d said he could stare at her forever. They were going to make it. Together, they could secure their survival. He wanted to have her close for years, stretching all the way into eternity.

When she pulled her hand from the pack, she held her InReach. He pushed up off the ground and wrapped his arms around her back, ready to continue that make-out session she’d encouraged him with earlier. He brushed her hair from her shoulder and kissed the back of her neck.


Tags: Sara Blackard Alaskan Rebels Romance