Page 105 of River Wild

I hold back the shiver I feel.

I meet his eyes. “I have a pretty good idea.”

“Thank God.”

He exhales, and I laugh softly.

“I want the travel system one,” I tell him as we walk over to the strollers. “You can buy the car seat to go with them. It clips into the stroller. And they’re really lightweight.”

“Travel system with car seat. Gotcha. This way.” River points to the sign that says Travel System Strollers.

We walk over to them. He walks at my slow, waddling pace and places his hand on my lower back, guiding me.

Every sense and nerve ending in my body is focused on that one single place where his hand is touching.

“Okay, so any specific brand you want?” he asks, moving away to look at a red stroller, his hand leaving my back.

I’m not disappointed at all.

Okay, well, just a little disappointed.

“There was one that I saw online. The Nuna. It has gray fabric—found it.” I clap my hands in delight. It looks just as good as it did online. “It’s really nice.” Expensive. But totally worth it. “What do you think?”

No response.

“River?” I lift my gaze from the stroller to him to find his eyes fixed in the opposite direction of me. “River,” I say his name firmer, but he still doesn’t seem to hear me, and he’s not exactly far away.

I look in the direction of where he’s looking. All I can see are people looking at strollers.

“River!” I holler his name to get his attention, and it works.

His eyes flick to mine. “What?” he snaps, taking me back a step.

My eyes widen in surprise. “I was talking to you.”

“And?”

He’s acting like an ass. It’s been a while since he’s behaved like this around me.

“And you were ignoring me. What were you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t seem like nothing,” I challenge.

His body is all rigid. Tight with tension. And his hands are clenched at his sides.

Something, or someone, has got him spooked.

And I don’t like it. It’s worrying me.

I look over my shoulder in that direction, trying to see what’s got him so agitated.

“Did you see someone? From your … past maybe?” I ask quietly.

Considering I know nothing about his past, it’s a pretty broad question. But I don’t want to say nothing. I want him to know I care. That I’m here.

“Stop prying into my business,” he says low and harsh. “Which you know exactly fucking zero about. And buy the fucking stroller, which is what you came here to do.”