I didn’t remember the last time I felt this wanted—thisseen—and it terrified me. Wanting someone meant hoping, and hoping meant there was something to lose.
I rubbed at the ache in my chest, willing my pulse to settle.
Don’t overcomplicate it. He’s a good guy. It’s just mind-blowing orgasms and a little harmless fun.
Except that lie was getting harder to hold on to with every quiet smile, every casual touch, and every night he stayed too long in my bed.
By the timeI closed up the carriage house and slipped on my boots, the sun had burned off the last traces of morning fog. The afternoon was sunny and breezy, but fall was settling in. I found Austin waiting at the bottom of the front porch steps, Winnie perched high on his shoulders like she was queen of all she surveyed. Her pink sneakers bounced against his chest as she waved at a passing neighbor, and Austin—hands tucked loosely around her calves—grinned like he’d done this a thousand times.
The sight hit me square in the sternum.
He fits here so well.
“There she is,” Austin teased as I descended the steps. “Thought you might need to pull an all-nighter.”
“I was considering it,” I said, my lips curving despite the twist in my stomach.
Winnie reached for me, fingers wiggling in the air. “Mama! We’re going to the Crooked Spine! Austin says I can have a cookie the size of my face!”
“Only if it’s okay with you.” Austin shot me a mock-innocent look. “But I do like to be a man of my word.”
“You’re also a man who’s not dealing with the sugar crash later,” I countered with a stern look. He held my stare until I rolled my eyes with a laugh. “Let’s go,” I relented, falling into step beside them as we headed down Main Street.
Star Harbor was its usual Thursday-evening self—half asleep, half buzzing. The hardware store had propped its door open to let the scent of lumber and oil paint drift out, and somewhere nearby a radio played faint nineties country. Mrs. Donnelly waved from her florist’s shop, the air sweet with late-season dahlias.
“Good evening, Selene! Hello, Miss Winnie! And ...” Her eyes lingered on Austin, curious. “Austin, isn’t it? I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. You’re Officer Brody’s brother, right?”
Austin’s grin was easy. “Guilty as charged.”
She eyed Winnie’s hand tucked into his. “Well, I’d say you’re settling in.”
Austin sucked in a lungful of coastal air. “I’d say Star Harbor feels a lot like home,” he said with a wink that made her blush and wave him off with a laugh.
We moved on, but I felt the weight of eyes tracking us down the street. Not hostile—just very, very curious. Small towns didn’t need social media. They had sidewalks and sharp peripheral vision.
“Does it ever bother you?” I asked under my breath, increasing the space between his shoulder and mine, just a bit.
“What?” Austin adjusted Winnie’s legs slightly.
I shrugged. “The staring. People wondering what’s going on.”
“Not really,” he said simply. His shoulder bumped into mine, mischief sparking in his eyes. “Let ’em wonder.”
My smile bloomed. I wanted that kind of ease, but my pulse still skittered. I had spent years keeping my private life tight to my chest, carefully curated to avoid giving anyone fodder for gossip.
“Faster!” Winnie giggled and tugged at Austin’s ear. “Faster, horsey!”
Austin neighed dramatically and broke into a light jog down the sidewalk, her squeal of delight bouncing off brick storefronts.
I laughed and watched them play as the knot in my chest loosened.
Watching them together felt ... dangerous yet exhilarating, like standing too close to the edge of something that promised both wonder and ruin.
The bakery inside the Crooked Spine smelled like sugar and butter and yeast, warm enough to feel like a hug as we stepped inside. Winnie pressed her face to the glass case, leaving a perfect smudge as she deliberated between a sprinkle doughnut and a chocolate chip cookie as big as her head.
Austin crouched to her level, his grin lazy. “Tough choice. But I hear cookies are better for maximum chocolaty face mess.”
Winnie giggled and pointed decisively. “Cookie.”
