Charley let the sounds fill her. James turned; she leaned into his back.

“Thanks for the help, boys.” He’d changed his tone to one of kindness.

Charley caught movement around his broad shoulders; she could see just over him if she reached up on tiptoe. Dark hair hung in a mess, accenting the boy’s strong jaw line.

He shifted to the side, disappearing from Charley’s view. “Is she hurt? I mean, we didn’t see the car hit us or anything.”

Charley smiled behind James, gripped his shirt, and breathed in the headiness of male that did not belong to James. She let it linger, encompassing her senses.

“No-” James’s tone turned serious.

“James.” Charley whispered against his back.

He cocked an ear in her direction, though only she’d see he’d done it.

“It’s alright,” she said in hushed tones.

The boy moved to the side. “Are you okay? We didn’t think we were in the road-” He reached for her but pulled back.

Charley kept one hand on James’s arm, the other on the car. Her gaze pointed to the ground. “I’m fine. What’s your name?” She adjusted her tone to match her visible age, letting the lie flow from her lips.

“Uh… Wyatt.” He stepped back, out of their private space. “That’s Stuart.”

James whirled, a movement anyone but Charley would think no more than a simple turn. He kept his voice indiscernible to anyone but her. “You need to be careful.” The muscle in his jaw clenched and released as his dark brown eyes drove his message into her.

Wyatt. She smiled, ran a palm from James’s shoulder to his crossed arms and imagined the same movement against Wyatt. She leaned into James’s back and squeezed his bicep. “I know. I already feel it. Proceed with caution.”

“You can’t let him see your eyes.” He said it with intensity but softness and at a volume only Charley would hear.

She smiled. “I know, James. I’ve been at this fifty years longer than you, remember?”