Free Her Own Best Enemy (The Remnants, Book 1) by Cynthia Justlin

killed someone. I was exceptionally talented,” she mimicked.
     
     
    Keith arched a brow at Grace and forced himself to stop. Again. “I didn’t say I was exceptionally talented.”
    She was going to drive him crazy with her yammering. And yet, he instinctively knew part of her desire to talk was based on her nervousness and her impatience to get to her son. He didn’t understand it, but he definitely appreciated it.
    Had his own mother ever once stood up for him? Had she ever taken his side or spent sleepless nights worrying when he’d neglected to come home?
    No. She’d never wanted him in the first place. After thirty-two years on this earth, he could finally admit that much.
    But here was Grace, prepared to walk through hell and back to get to Ryker. How could he not admire her for that?
    She was still staring at him, eyebrows creased into an intent frown—almost as if angry with herself for being interested.
    Fascinating. “The Army recognized my...focus and attention to detail and recommended me for Special Forces right after my basic training.”
    She cocked her head, threw her hands out. “We’re you thrilled? Excited? I mean most people don’t get recommended for that kind of position, right? How did you feel?”
    Like he wanted to kiss that disgruntled expression right off her too serious face.
    He swallowed. Holy mother of bad thoughts. Where did it come from? He mentally shook himself, but the urge, unfortunately didn’t go away.
    Her wide green eyes sought his and sparkled in a way he hadn’t noticed before. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat and her mussed, windblown brown hair, swirled around her face in a soft, sexy cloud.
    As he stared at her, he briefly lost all thought. Until he realized that her eyes had changed from curious to wary.
    He cleared his throat. How did he feel? His eyes slid to her lips. “I felt good.”
    Her teeth grazed her upper lip. “Yeah?”
    He’d never been so turned on by the motherly type before, but now he couldn’t stop imagining he and Grace intertwined in all sorts of un-motherly positions.
    He forced himself to look down and noticed that his feet had somehow propelled him forward until the tips of his boots touched her dusty tennis shoes.
    “It felt good to have someone believe in me for once. The Army’s where I belong.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. An honest admission he’d never dared express to anyone.
    His chest tightened and he forced his gaze back to hers. Bad mistake. Her sweet kissable lips were parted—whether in horror over their proximity, or surprise, he didn’t know her well enough to decipher.
    From somewhere in the distance, a bird let out a loud screeching, and they both jerked their gazes to the sky.
    She stepped away and shot him a watered down smile. “That’s all I wanted to know.”
    Good. Keith uttered a silent thanks to the bird who had broken the moment, then nodded, a firm snap of his head to let himself, as well as Grace, know that all conversation was officially over. “We’d better keep moving.”
    She agreed by silently righting her backpack along her shoulders.
    A few more hours and she’d hopefully have her son back. He’d take them all back to the lodge, they’d go back to their lives, and he’d continue on with his mission to see The Keeper rot in prison.
    He’d never have to see her again. And he’d most definitely never have to wonder what it would have been like to kiss her.
     
     
    Grace’s legs trembled in gratitude as Phantom Ranch came into view. Nestled in the valley at the base of the Grand Canyon, the eleven rustic cabins provided a refuge from the desert, surrounded by bubbling creeks lined with lush cottonwood trees.
    Her shoulders and calves burned and her entire body felt drenched with sweat, but they’d made it.
    She wanted to shout in relief. Call Ryker’s name into the rustling wind. He was here. Mark had brought him here to hide. She felt it in the