As she ate her second helping of stew, she saw her life through a different lens. Had she outgrown her dream? Was she clinging to a life she thought she wanted?
Christopher’s question circled around and around in her head…What would you do if you could do anything?
The answer that came surprised and scared her. Stay here. With him. Forever.
Chapter Seven – Christopher
Had he pushed her too far? After he’d asked Sorcha…what would you do if you could do anything?She’d clammed up, withdrawn from him, as if she had put up barriers in defense.
All too soon, dinner was over, and Christopher felt the moment slipping away. He’d crossed a line with that question and touched on something sensitive. The easy warmth they’d built throughout the day had dimmed, replaced by a guarded politeness that made his chest ache.
Then make it right,his bear said.
I would if I knew how,Christopher replied. But he’d figure it out. He had to.
“Let me help you with the dishes,” Sorcha said, rising from the table with her empty bowl.
“You don’t have to,” Christopher replied, but she was already gathering their plates.
“I insist. You cooked, I’ll clean.”
They moved to the sink together, falling into an easy rhythm as he washed and she dried. He loved the feeling of domesticity.
This is how it could be,his bear whispered.Every night. Her being beside us, sharing the simple tasks of living together under one roof.
“This has been a wonderful day,” she said softly, placing a dried bowl in the cabinet where he’d shown her it belonged. “Thank you for showing me around.”
“My pleasure,” Christopher said, passing her a clean glass. They collided gently, suddenly face-to-face, barely an inch separating them. Water dripped unnoticed from his hands onto the floor as time seemed to suspend itself.
Her eyes widened, pupils dilating as she looked up at him. The kitchen felt too small, too warm, the air between them charged with unspoken words. Christopher lowered his head slightly, searching her face for permission, for any sign that she felt this too. That she could feel the inexorable pull between them.
For a heartbeat, he thought she might lean in as her lips parted, and her breath caught in her throat.
Then something shuttered in her eyes. She stepped back, breaking the spell, and took the glass from his unresisting fingers.
“I should be getting back,” she said, her voice carefully neutral as she put the glass away. “I have notes to organize for the article.”
Christopher nodded, swallowing his disappointment. “Of course.”
They finished the dishes in silence, the easy camaraderie replaced by an awkwardness that felt like a physical barrier between them. His bear growled in frustration, but Christopher forced himself to respect her retreat. She wasn’t ready to take the next step. Maybe she never would be.
After the kitchen was clean, Christopher grabbed his coat and keys. “I’ll drive you back to your cabin.”
“It’s not far; I can walk,” she insisted.
“I’m going that way anyway,” he said, trying to set her at ease. But nothing felt easy now.
The short drive was quiet, the darkness outside the truck windows matching the mood inside. When they arrived at Cabin 7, Christopher walked her to the door, keeping a careful distance.
“Thank you again for dinner,” Sorcha said, her key already in the lock. Her smile was polite but distant, her barriers firmly back in place. “And for showing me around today. It was very helpful for my article.”
“My pleasure,” Christopher replied, shoving his hands deep into his jacket pockets to keep from reaching for her. He didn’t want to end their perfect day like this. “Good night, Sorcha.”
“Good night.”
The door closed between them, and Christopher stood there for a moment, staring at the weathered wood, hoping it might open again. That she would realize she didn’t want this night to end without a goodnight kiss.
But the door remained firmly shut.
