Relief ran like a wound through her. She didn't smile, she didn't answer -- she just went, three steps and then the warmth, the scent of spice and woods, the rough rub of his shirt on her face. There was nothing delicate or gentle about it. Desperation lent strength, and she used it.
She'd had safety with Ted and Charlie, but this was different. Safety, yes, always -- but she'd lost more than she realized until this very second, here, with her feet inside his wider stance. "Heavens," she mumbled into the cloth, and soaked up his being-here.
He must think her mad. With no small regret, she peeled herself away -- but immediately found his hand. "I was hoping I'd find you," she said at last.