I raised an eyebrow. “What?”
His arms crossed. “I’ve been guessing for weeks. You keep switching it on me. First it was vanilla something, then the cinnamon one.” He frowned down at the foamy cold brew in front of me. “Today there’s ice and it’s got a dusting of something. Is that nutmeg?”
I blinked, then looked down at my cup. “You’ve been paying that much attention?”
“Maybe.” His grin went crooked. “It would be a hell of a lot easier if you’d stop changing it up every day.”
My chest went tight. I hated how much I liked his answer.
Winnie slid out of her chair to dig in the little basket of books at the end of the table, humming again. Austin’s gaze followed her for a beat, soft and warm, before coming back to me.
“It’s weird, right? Not seeing each other in the mornings?” he said, voice lower now. “I almost stopped by before I realized it was Saturday.”
I nodded, because I didn’t trust my voice. Because yes. It did feel odd. Having Austin around had quickly felt comforting. It was almost like he had always been here, like his laugh belongedin our kitchen and his shoes belonged by the front door and his goddamn voice belonged in my ear at night.
He held my gaze, but I looked away first.
“Well, I’m headed to the nursery,” he said casually. “Thought I might grab a few plants for the garden. You’re welcome to pick some out ... unless you two had plans?”
Winnie whipped her head around. “I wanna go!”
I opened my mouth to say no, to offer an out. “I mean, we could go, but it’s your day off. You probably need a break from us,” I said gently.
He tilted his head, brows lifting just slightly. “Selene,” he said, voice like velvet dragged across skin, “if I wanted to be anywhere else, I would be. Spending time with you two isn’t a job. It’s just ... where I want to be.”
And just like that, I was melting all over again.
I gave him a slow nod as he extended a hand toward Winnie. “Let’s go find some veggies, kid.”
She squealed and darted ahead of us. I grabbed my bag, still rattled, still aching.
As I passed him on the way out, Austin’s hand grazed the small of my back—it was definitelynotby accident.
“Are you going to keep looking at me like that,” he murmured so only I could hear, “or are you finally going to admit you like having me around?”
I didn’t answer, but I knew he saw my smile.
The nursery satat the edge of town where the gravel turned to dirt and the fields stretched wide and sun-bleached, preparing to sleep. Autumn had settled in with its crisp quiet that made theair smell like dried leaves and earth still clinging to the last of the harvest.
We pulled into the lot just as a gust of wind kicked up a swirl of golden birch leaves, sending them skittering across the hood of my car. The greenhouse glowed in the slant of early-afternoon sun, its arched panes fogged slightly with warmth and life.
Austin’s SUV parked beside ours, and he pulled open my driver’s-side door and grinned as Winnie frantically tried to unharness herself. He turned to me. “You think she’s excited?”
“She’s vibrating,” I murmured, shaking my head.
Austin waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve got that effect on women,” he said under his breath, then winked before giving me room to get out and open Winnie’s door for her.
My laugh caught in my throat, and a low roll of heat curled through me.
Winnie was squirming in the back seat. “Do you think they’ll have sugar snap peas? You said fall is for planting peas.”
“I said that one time.” Austin shook his head and smiled as he helped her unbuckle. “You’ve got a memory like a steel trap, kid.”
She beamed. “I’m very smart.”
His smile bloomed, blinding and bright. “That you are, Win.”
I stepped out of the car, grounding myself in the crunch of gravel underfoot, and in the sound of the wind chimes tinkling just above the entrance. A part of me still couldn’t believe we were here. Together. I glanced around, wondering whether this was something people noticed or if I was too caught up in my own thoughts.
