Aftershock

Well, not quite. Southern California had suffered a six-point-five earthquake.

Amber turned to look at the small crowd of police officers and firefighters surrounding her perfect stranger, and she suffered her own six-point-five tremor.

Dax McCall was tall, lean and built like a runner. No, like a boxer, she amended, all sinewy and tough. Big. It was hard to discern the color of his hair, or even the tone of his skin, covered in dust as he was, but to her, he was stunningly, heart wrenchingly gorgeous.

He was her hero, in a world where she’d never had one before.

But that was silly, the stuff movies were made of, and she was mature enough to realize it. He was human, and she had no need for a hero in her life. Nor for a huge, warm, strong, incredibly sexy man. Still, she stood there, pining after him, allowing herself for one moment to daydream.

I plan to settle down, he’d said. In another twenty years or so.

She’d do well to remember that.

Yes, this had been an amazing episode in her life’literally soul-shaking. The way he’d held her, touched her, kissed her, as if she’d been the only woman on earth, was something she’d always remember.

But it was over now, and he wouldn’t want to cling to the moment. In fact, he was probably already worrying about how to let her down gently.

That wouldn’t be necessary.

Oh, he was kind, gentle, tender. Some woman had certainly taught him right. Probably many women. But Amber had no desire to be the flavor of the week, and he had no desire for more. He’d made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t into commitments. So really, there was only one thing to do, after she thanked him’cut her losses and leave.

Getting him alone proved difficult. Their rescuers had circled him and were deep in conversation, so she waited. Around her was the eerie silence of a regular day. Trees barely moving, sky clear and bright. Little traffic.

But it wasn’t a regular day. Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, more than she had while trapped in the basement, Amber knew she couldn’t stay another moment. Vowing to thank him in person later, after a hot shower, a good meal and a very private, very rare, pity party, she got into her car.

Taking control of her emotions and actions felt good. Still, her heart gave a painful lurch as she buckled in. Before Dax had finished giving his report to the police, she was gone, assuring herself she was doing the right thing by leaving.

A part of her, though, a very small part, knew the truth. On the outside, to the world, she was tough as nails and cool as a cucumber. Inside, where she allowed no one, she was one big, soft chicken.

And when she put her foot to the accelerator, it was the chicken who ran.

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