Kristen
I was quiet as we made our way down the mountain. Partly because my hip and my shoulder were killing me, and I didn’t want to be a whiny baby. And partly because my mind kept replaying the rescue, over and over.
I knew Ezra Falcon was strong. He had demonstrated his physical strength and endurance many times. Like the day he carried me down the hiking trail and Blue Rocks. Or the times he had carried me up and down the stairs at his home when my ankle was sprained. Or when we were playing at the swimming hole and he tossed me through the air like I was nothing more than a beach ball.
He had fantastic muscles. I knew that since I’d had a few opportunities to get up close and personal with that physique. Like the morning I had woken up on top of his rock-hard torso.
But the way h
