“Noted.” Noah’s gaze flicked down then up again, brief and warm. “I’ll see you around, Eli Winters.”
Eli nodded, trying not to look like someone had just stolen his equilibrium. “Yeah. Probably.”
Noah gave a little salute with two fingers, turned, and disappeared down the aisle, leaving the faint scent of sawdust and cedar in his wake.
Eli stood there for a second, the lights buzzing overhead, the list crumpled in his hand. His palm still tingled. He stared at it, then at the empty aisle, and shook his head.
“Well,” he muttered. “That’s new.”
The moment had all the essence of a Hallmark movie, except for one thing—it feltreal.
He tossed another box of lights into the cart, whistled a little off-key, and tried unsuccessfully not to smile.
He did all that because he thought I was cute.
Eli could live with that. It had been a while since a good-looking guy had paid him a compliment, and Noah was definitely good looking.
And familiar. There was still that tug of memory, like a half-remembered dream.
Where do I know you from, Noah Carter?
Noah made it as far as the next aisle before he stopped walking. He leaned against a stack of storage bins and let out a breath, his pulse still sprinting.
God. What did I just do?
He looked down at his hand, the one that had been wrapped around a stranger’s. Eli’s warmth lingered. He flexed his fingers, half expecting to see the imprint of that calm, careful grip still there.
It had been impulsive, even for him. He’d spotted the man in the lighting aisle, dark-haired, bearded, soft warm brown eyes, quietly self-contained, and something in Noah had tilted.
He hadn’t thoughtpickup line.
He’d thoughtsafe.
And maybe, if he were being honest,lonely.
The lie had slipped out before he could stop it, a sort of half joke, half wish.My ex just walked in. Ridiculous. But the stranger hadn’t laughed at him or walked away. He’d stayed. He’d said okay. He’d taken Noah’s hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And when their fingers had fit together, firm and unhurried, Noah had felt it, that impossible, weightless moment when connection stopped being theoretical and became real.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re a disaster, Carter.”
The echo of Eli’s dry humor lingered in his head.I’m union.That low, amused voice, edged with something that hinted at self-protection.
A voice Noah realized he wanted to hear again.
He pushed off the storage bins, glancing down the aisle toward where Eli had been. The space was empty now, save for a couple arguing about snow-blower attachments.
“Well,” he murmured, “that was… interesting.”
Noah went along the aisles, placing stuff into his cart but with one eye peeled, hoping to catch sight of Eli once more.
Nope. No such luck.
When he was done, he stepped outside to where snow was starting to fall, fine flakes he knew would grow fatter as the day progressed. He pulled his jacket tighter, smiled at nothing, and felt that small, surprising flicker of joy people so often mistake for hope.
He’d meant to start his day with errands and ended up meeting a man who’d taken his hand without hesitation.
Maybe that wasn’t such a terrible omen for the season.
As he climbed into his truck, he found himself still smiling.
