After dropping off one car, the quartet had arrived at the airstrip and parked in a slot with a full view of the runway and part of the holding area for aircraft. A tepid breeze rustled the edges of her borrowed shirt and flipped the ends of her hair this way and that. Pensive in the aftermath of so much frightening information, she at first didn't know what to say to Leander. Lean and strong, he stood next to her with his hands in his pockets, a pack sitting at his booted feet. Chey, on the other side of Leander, was in quiet conversation with Nathaniel, the words too soft to hear. “I wish you would have told me about all this sooner,” Wynn finally said. She knew Leander's past was a touchy subject, as defined by how artfully and easily he'd sidestepped all her questions during their relationship. Glancing over, she studied his handsome profile, resisting the urge to brush her knuckles against a thin layer of whiskers on his jaw. “It's not something I like talking about,”
