He wriggled his fingers again, and I slid my hand in his with a huff. His hand was larger than mine, warm and callused and… safe. I didn’t know why he made me feel that way. Yeah, he was more built and a lot taller—a genetic fact he had nothing to do with and still lorded over me anyway—but it wasn’t that. He could be five feet tall and a hundred pounds and still make me feel safe. I was trained to protect myself, so I didn’t need him to make me feel that way. He just did. I wasn’t a ghost whisperer or a detective when I was with him. I was just Rain. I liked that—a lot.
