by the water tower. “You okay?”
Amanda snorted. “That’s debatable.”
“Just so you know.” He laughed, self-deprecating, and seemed closer than before. “I hate being out here.”
Then go away. This was her refuge and retreat. Why wouldn’t he go away? She’d prepared and protected herself from every possible situation for years. Except for this man. How had she gone this entire contract without knowing he existed? A better question might be, how had she gone without feeling the way he made her stomach jump and drop simultaneously?
She waited and didn’t hear him. Relief swelled. She scanned the rooftop for a place she could compose herself. Parker or Jared would show up soon. After all, Parker had given the man a direct warning to treat her with kid gloves. Careful. Titan wanted to protect her, and she’d run onto the roof like a maniac. Jared would want to have another one of those security discussions…
Amanda maneuvered toward a tiered section and then descended onto a metal ladder. Although the sun was bearing down, the rungs didn’t burn her hands. She stepped from the ladder, careful to soften her path through a gravel bed littered with pigeons and thick, corded wires, then stepped onto a metal catwalk that reminded her of chain mail. Despite its strength, she could see through the walkway. It quietly clanged with every step, and if she hadn’t been familiar with the bridge that spanned a communication depot of large antennas and dishes, common sense would’ve told her to stay off.
The birds scattered and resettled as she crossed, drinking in the never-ending view. Her muscles unwound. A steady breeze rolled, and Amanda let it sweep the after-effects of her hysteria. She eased onto the metal catwalk and threaded her legs between the barrier wires. Her feet dangled, and she relaxed, safe, and so very high in the sky. This was the kind of gusty day and beautiful view that could erase the worst of bad days.
Every bird froze. In unison, their heads twisted and swiveled, and the mystery man appeared at the top of the ladder. If she hadn’t been seated, her legs would’ve wobbled. He looked on top of the world, big and broad as a gust tousled his thick hair. Sunlight bathed him in gold.
Her heartbeat strummed in her ears, and the impulse to run melted away. Amanda gave a small wave. “Found me.”
“Only so many places to look.” His eyebrows knit, surprisingly not in judgment or irritation, but closer to concern. “You okay?”
She wrapped her arms to her stomach and focused on her knees. “You’ve had to ask me that a lot.”
He waited until she faced him again. “I’m not sure you’ve given me a straight answer.”
She laughed to herself, then admitted, “No.”
“I appreciate the honesty.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Even when you’ve been evasive.”
“It’s a talent.”
He glanced at the tiers and ladder, then into the wind. Amanda wondered what was going through his head and if he’d decided that he’d had enough with her shiftiness. She didn’t blame him. His frown grew deeper. She bit the inside of her cheek, preparing herself for him to leave, then he descended the ladder.
Her stomach fluttered but she didn’t know how to explain herself. The impact of his gaze scared her, and she threw an arm toward the sky. “I needed a little alone time. Just me and the birds.”
“I get that.” His footsteps crunched on the pebbles. Pigeons fluttered. Their little heads swiveled between the two humans. “And, trust me, if I didn’t have a reason, I’d leave you to hang with the birds.”
The back of her neck tingled. “What’s your reason?”
“That’s a hell of a question.” He rested a foot on the metal catwalk and gripped the railing. She expected a lecture about the consequences of rooftop falls. But he didn’t start in on her. He crossed his thick arms over his broad chest. “You know your way around out here?”
She shrugged. “Do you?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I avoid it at all costs—unless we get to fly drones and crash plants.”
“I’m not doing either.”
“Or, if I need to check on someone.”
Amanda bit her lip. “You don’t have to check on me if that’s your reason. I know my way around.”
“Actually.” He paused as though he understood the power of patiently letting time slip by. He lifted his palms slightly. The corners of his lips curled. “I don’t care if you do or don’t.” He stepped farther onto the catwalk. The metal walkway shifted under