Wild Eyes

2

With one hand outstretched, I summon all the calm within me. “Whatever you do, don’t r⁠—”

Before I can say the word run, she f*****g sprints toward me. And against what would be most people’s better judgment, I leap into action without thinking.

I head straight toward her.

And the bear.

The bear that is now pawing at the road like it’s ready to charge. It takes a few powerful leaps forward before drawing back.

Now in defensive mode, I do the only thing I can think of. The instant I reach Skylar, my fingers wrap around her bicep, and I curl one arm around the back of her head before tossing us to the ground. My tall body covers her smaller one like a shield.

She squirms against me. “What are you⁠—”

I cut her off by clamping a palm over her mouth, propping myself up on my opposite arm, and shaking my head. “Stop. Please stop. I need you to be quiet and still. And the bear will probably go away.”

She nods subtly. Enough so that I can remove my hand and cage the entire top of her head in with my forearms.

Her terrified golden eyes search mine again and I can smell something sweet on her breath as she pants nervously into the air between us. Tangerine and sugar.

“Can we make it to your truck?”

I can barely hear her over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. “We’re not close enough and I don’t like our odds of outrunning a grizzly.”

“Okay.” She licks her lips nervously and I watch a stray tear leak out of one eye. It rolls down over her temple before trailing toward her ear. I trace the wet path with my gaze before meeting hers and giving her my full attention, conveying an outward sense of calm that doesn’t necessarily match the way I’m feeling inside.

More tears leak out as we stare at each other.

“I’m sorry.” Her choked sob hits me hard in the chest.

I can hear the bear huffing as it draws within mere feet of us. I swear the ground trembles beneath the weight of its steps. Lighter footsteps thump from lower down in the ditch. And I assume those are the cubs.

My thumb rubs soft, slow circles over the crown of her head. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re just gonna be quiet together and then everything is going to be okay.” I whisper the words to her, but I say them for myself.

She blinks in recognition, and I blink back. Then I distract myself by counting the swirling hues of her irises. Brown, gold, green, and a delicate gray woven between them. Minimum four colors.

And even covered in a sheen of tears, they glow.

I’m not sure I’ve ever gotten this lost in a perfect stranger’s eyes.

“Tell me it’s going to be okay again.” The words are a breath, weaving into the hush of her long exhale. Even this close, I barely hear them.

The tips of our noses brush as my face slants down over hers. My lips move silently against the skin on her cheek as I mouth the words, It’s going to be okay.

I’ve done a lot of wild s**t in my day. Done a few things that I’m surprised to have survived, if I’m being honest. But in those moments, I’d always been alone. There’s something about lying this damn close to another person, knowing she could be the last thing I see, that makes everything around us stand still.

Shit, maybe I’m just getting old and sentimental.

Then I feel the hot, damp breath of the grizzly as it sniffs the back of my neck. An eerie sense of calm settles over me, even though it shouldn’t. I’m calmer than I have any right to be. It’s as though my body knows that giving into my own rising anxiety won’t help.

Because while I may have seen my fair share of bears growing up in Rose Hill, I have yet to feel one breathing down my neck. To be frank, it’s an experience I could have done without.

But there’s no time for me to wallow in my anxiety. I have to remain composed for Skylar. So I keep my eyes locked on hers, willing her to stay still and in the moment with me even though she’s clearly so far out of her element that she’s on another planet.

Her lips part, and her breaths come fast and frantic. She clamps her eyes shut. I can smell the bear, so I’m sure she can too.

All sweat and musk and old gym shoes. It’s overpowering. It’s a combination I’ll never forget.

The sun beats down on my back, and the heat of the bear’s enormous body beside me makes the moment downright stifling. I rest my forehead against hers and try to regulate her breathing with my own.

Three seconds in.

Three seconds out.

Soon, the heat feels more bearable. The heart-pounding clatter of nails aren’t as loud. The stench, less overpowering. The rustling from the ditch dissipates, and I assume the cubs have followed mom away too.

Skylar squirms a little and peeks up at me from beneath her thick lashes. “Did you see the babies? They’re so cute.”

I roll my forehead against hers as I stifle a laugh, wondering how I constantly end up in the orbit of women who are this atrocious at following simple instructions—even when their lives depend on it. “Let’s stay quiet” is all I respond with.

I’m not sure how long we lie on the ground breathing in and out together. Five minutes? Ten minutes? Long enough that her knuckles must be cramping from clutching at my shirt. Her entire body is still trembling uncontrollably, so I smooth my hand over her hair to ease her shaking.

Logically, I know the bear has moved on, but I still feel like I could glance up and come face-to-face with it.

So I stay in place, stroking this woman’s head and trying to get my bearings before I make a move to stand up.

To lighten the moment, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “I saw the results of a survey recently that said six percent of Americans think they could beat a grizzly bear in hand-to-hand combat.”

“What?” The question is breathless and hushed, but the expression on her face is pure disbelief.

“I know. Can you believe that?”

She stares at me like she’s wondering if I’m for real right now. “Hand-to-hand combat?”

I nod down at her before peeking up over the top of her head.

No bear.

I push up onto my knees and twist to look back over my shoulder.

No bear.

I flop back onto my haunches and run my palms over my close-cut hair as I take in a full three-sixty view of our spot on the backroad.

No bear.

Just bluebird skies and warm yellow sunshine.

It’s with a ragged sigh that I finally glance back down…to see I’m straddling Skylar Stone.

My eyes catch on the graceful line of her collarbone, the swell of her breasts pressed high over the neckline of her shirt. I close my eyes and shake my head, but no—she’s still there. Under me.

With one hand, she wipes at her eyes but makes no move to escape me. She lies flopped on the road looking beautiful, and stunned, and completely exhausted. Her teeth strum at her bottom lip as though she’s thinking hard. And she doesn’t let go of my shirt. Her arm is straight, and her knuckles are still white as she grips the cotton.

Finally, a giddy laugh shakes her shoulders. “When they say six percent, though…it’s probably more.”

I sigh, and then I laugh with her. “Yeah, you gotta rule out children and the elderly.”

Her pointer finger taps at my thigh. “And women.”

“What?”

She rolls her eyes at me now. “Only a man would think he can fight a grizzly bear with his bare hands.”

“Rich coming from the woman who just tried to take her photo with one.”

“It was a video!”

I push to stand on wobbly legs and reach a hand down to pull her up. With a grin, I say, “Right. For your socials. That makes it so much better.”