After Brigitta and Luke are nearly killed by a cougar.
He held his hand out to me. I took it. “Thanks,” he croaked and pulled me to him. He wrapped his arms around me. He was shaking, too. We stood that way for a long time. I smelled the wet wool of his sweater. He put his chin on my hair as if we'd always known each other. I felt the fear drain out of both of us. Devon had never, ever held me like that. No one had.
Luke stepped back and looked at me, his hands still on my arms. Then he stepped into the clearing and picked up my Nonni coat from where the cougar had tossed it. Three huge rips ran down the back of it. I shivered and he put it around me. “Here's your hero cloak,” he said.
His eyes were so blue I thought I'd fall into them and drown. I wanted to touch his jaw where it curved down to a strong chin streaked with dirt. His lips were wide and kissable. He smiled.
And then, in the middle of the most romantic moment of my life so far, I opened my mouth and said, “You do look like Trent Yves.”