Free Snow Angels by Sabrina York Page A

paralyzed in pain. But now, curiosity, and more than that—a confusing swirl of conflicting emotions—burned through him. In that mélange, there may have been a hint of…hope.
    “Tell me,” he said, his voice rough. “Tell me everything.”
    Lyssa settled deeper in his embrace and dipped her chin. He was glad. He didn’t want to see her face. Didn’t want her seeing his. He tucked her closer and laid his cheek on top of her head, her soft hair. She drew in a deep breath and began.
    “They were scouting the rim of the canyon, she and Kip. She saw something. A flicker of movement…of color in the rocks. They headed for it—”
    “She should have signaled me.”
    “She should have. But she didn’t want to wait.” Lyssa tried to look up at him. With gentle pressure, he did not allow it. “Then they saw it.”
    “S-saw what?”
    “A baby.” Lyssa shivered. He tightened his grip. “They thought it was a baby. When they got close they saw it was a doll. And—”
    When she didn’t continue, he urged her on. “And?”
    “And she stepped on something. Heard a click.”
    “Shit.”
    “She knew then it was all over. But she didn’t realize…it wasn’t just one bomb. It was a series of them, ringing the canyon.” Lyssa looked up then. When their eyes met it was like an electric charge. “They were lying in wait. If she hadn’t triggered the blast, one of the rebels would have.” Lyssa swallowed. Her elegant throat worked. “But she did trigger it. And she’s sorry for your pain.”
    “My pain?” Heat scored him. The little hairs on his neck prickled. Something nasty slithered through his gut. “My pain is nothing compared to….”
    “She wanted to say she was sorry.” Lyssa nibbled her lower lip. “Because she never did.”
    It was true. Sam would rather eat a live grenade than apologize.
    Lyssa cupped his cheek. Held him still and forced him to look at her. “And she wanted to say she’s proud of you.”
    “Proud of me? For what?”
    “For not giving up.” A sweet, slow smile. “For fighting. Against insurmountable odds. For saving Bo when they wanted to kill him. For walking again.” Her lashes flickered. Lips worked. “Also….”
    “Yes?”
    “She loves you.”
    The breath whooshed out of him.
    Another thing Sam would never say when she was alive. But he didn’t doubt, for a second, that she had.
    It was a tender moment, replete with redemption, relief, and hope. Because whether or not he’d had a hand in Sam’s death, she didn’t blame him for it. A peace, unlike anything he’d ever known cascaded through him. “Thank you, Lyssa.”
    He kissed her. A soft buss of gratitude.
    She wrinkled her nose.
    Not the response he’d expected to a loverly kiss. But he’d come to realize with Lyssa, there was always something else going on. Usually something he was clueless about.
    Sure enough, she shook her head and muttered, “I’m not saying that.”
    Wade blinked. “Is Sam still talking?”
    Lyssa made a face. “Does she ever stop?”
    He chuckled. “When she sleeps.”
    “Yeah. Well….”
    “What did she say?”
    The flush rising on her cheeks was charming. “I don’t want to say.”
    “Come on Lyss.”
    “I can’t.”
    “You told me everything else.” He gently nudged her knee.
    “This is embarrassing.”
    He held back a snort, but just barely. “To you, or to me?”
    “To both of us.”
    Oh, now he had to know. “Spill it.” He invested the words with a dark commanding growl. He was really good at commanding growls.
    She flinched then relented, but she tipped her face away. “She thinks you should start dating again.”
    “How is that embarrassing?”
    Lyssa peeped up at him and said, in a small voice, “She thinks you should start dating me.”
    He threw back his head and crowed. Her mortified expression was hysterical for one thing and, after all, it wasn’t a bad idea. Not at all. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the prospect.
    Of all the