Folks were out enjoying the mild evening weather: kids on the swing set, a young couple pulling ashore in a rowboat, and a couple of guys fishing off the pier.
Grace headed toward the white gazebo where Molly and Adam had gotten married. There’d been another wedding earlier today—the podium still stood beneath the pavilion, and white chairs were lined up across the lawn like a sheet of postage stamps. Grace spotted an empty picnic table around the bend and headed toward it.
She’d had some errands to run in town after work, so she and Wyatt had agreed to meet here. He was bringing food. She was early, but she’d sent him a text, telling him where she’d be.
As she neared the picnic table, one of the guys on the dock gave a whoop. He grabbed the fish that flopped around on the end of his line and began removing the hook from its mouth. She was about to look away when the man turned.
At the sight of his silhouette she stopped, her heart crashing into her ribs. It was the guy who’d grabbed her up by the creek. The tall, dark-haired one. His fishing buddy was the bearded blond.
Grace’s heartbeat reverberated in her ears. Her lungs struggled to keep pace. She darted behind the nearest covering, a tree twice as wide as she was.
You’re fine, you’re fine. Settle down. It’s a public park. It’s daylight.
Not comforting, since the biggest fright of her life had happened in broad daylight.
She leaned against the trunk, letting the solid feel of it ground her. She glanced around the park, the bark snagging her hair. No one else was around that she could see.
Her legs were numb, but she forced herself to remain standing. She didn’t want to be caught unaware. She was being paranoid. They hadn’t even seen her, and they weren’t drunk this time. They might not even remember her or what had happened.
But all those reassurances did nothing to quell the fear and sense of doom that hit her like a tidal wave. She breathed through the panic, afraid to close her eyes for even a moment.
It’ll pass. Nothing is going to happen. God, help me. Because it sure felt like something was going to happen. Something bad. Something inescapable.
The seconds dragged on, each one an eternity. She had no idea how much time passed. She didn’t hear the men anymore, but she was afraid to look.
A hand touched her shoulder.
She yelped and spun around, ready to scratch and claw and scream her head off.
But it was only Wyatt.
He held up his hands. “Hey, hey. It’s all right. It’s just me.”
Grace clutched her chest to make sure her heart didn’t leap out onto the ground.
Wyatt had stiffened, his gaze darting around the park. Hand on the gun at his waist. “What’s wrong?” he asked without looking at her.
“Those guys.” Grace breathed though the panic. “The ones fishing off the pier.”
“Where?”
She found the courage to peek around the tree. “Over there. The man who attacked me at the creek and the other one. The drunk guys.”
His brows pinched together. “Did they bother you?”
“I don’t think they even saw me. I’m probably overreacting.”
His eyes narrowed on the men. “That’s not them, Grace. Look.”
She studied the guys who were baiting their hooks. Wyatt was right. The tall guy was lankier than the one at the campground. And his blond friend had a beard, but it was too long to be the guy she remembered.
What had she been thinking? “You’re right.”
Wyatt’s hand fell from his hip. His body lost some of that rigid alertness as he assessed her. “You’re white as a sheet.” He took her hand and gave a tug.
That was all it took. She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his chest. “What’s wrong with me? I’m losing it. My heart’s beating so fast.”
“You’re fine.” Without letting her go he lifted her wrist and took her pulse, holding her hand almost as if they were dancing.
“Purse your lips,” he said against her temple. “Breathe through your mouth real slow. You’re all right. Nothing bad is going to happen.”
She’d forgotten about that little breathing trick. It helped. As did knowing Wyatt was here and would protect her. Since when had she been so dependent on a man? But right now, security meant more to her than independence.
The panic was subsiding, embarrassment creeping in. This was the second time he’d found her like this. And this time she’d freaked out over