The moment Dominic saw Celeste approaching, he stepped out of the car. The night air bit colder than he had expected.
A sharp wind rushed through the darkened street, carrying with it the faint smell of wet stone. He reached for the coat he had packed in the backseat earlier, almost grateful now for his habit of preparing for everything. With long, quick strides, he crossed the space between them.
The wind tugged at Celeste's hair as though it wanted to keep her for itself. She was almost swallowed by the gust, her frame was small against the dark night, but she carried herself with that quiet stubbornness he knew so well.
Dominic draped the coat over her shoulders. He held her, steadying her when the wind whipped again, and smoothed her hair back from her face with careful fingers. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice pitched low, warm, and protective.
