“I won’t be your dirty, little secret, Harlan.” I tried to keep the shakiness out of my voice. “And I’m not a kid. If they have a problem with who I’m kissing, or who I’m sleeping with, that’s their problem, not yours to solve.”
He braced his hand on a tree like he needed something to hold him up. “It’s not only their problem. It’s my problem too. Your brothers are,”—he blew out a long breath—“they’re my family.”
“What does that make me?”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. His head snapped up. The look on his face made me want to take them back. He stepped closer, his hands flexing like he wanted to grab me but didn’t trust himself. “I don’t know how to do this without breaking something.”
“Maybe the thing that needs breaking is the stupid rule you made for yourself a long time ago. The one that says you’ll never let yourself want something you might lose.”
He went still, every muscle in his body frozen in place.
I pushed while I still had the courage. “You keep saying I’m off-limits because you don’t want to piss off my brothers. To me, it sounds like you’re choosing them. Like we’re not worth the risk.”
The breeze shifted. Somewhere, a jay scolded the whole forest. Harlan looked at me a long time, a mixture of want and regret in his eyes, and I finally saw it... his fault line. He didn’t want control, he was scared. He’d been carrying his fear around with him for so long that it looked like a backbone, not a crack that could undo him.
“I don’t want to lose them,” he said, the truth landing heavy between us. “And I don’t want to lose you.”
My throat went tight. I couldn’t pinpoint the moment I’d shifted from enjoying watching Harlan squirm to wanting to be his forever. Somewhere between trading jabs and stealing kisses, the game had changed. I wasn’t just baiting Harlan anymore, I was falling for him, and I didn’t want a way back out.
“Then stop acting like you don’t get a say. This isn’t about my brothers, Harlan. It’s about you and me.”
He dragged a hand over his beard. “That’s the problem. You’ll survive this. I’m the one who won’t.”
His response should have made me furious. It did, a little. But mostly I felt something else… a fierce, stubborn tenderness. Because underneath his gruffness, I could hear the fear. And maybe that was what scared me most… that I was already in too deep, already falling for a man who didn’t know how to fall back.
If he couldn’t believe in us yet, then I would. I’d funnel all of my energy into saving Big Package Outfitters and showing him we could build a future worth fighting for.
“Okay,” I said, softer than I felt. “Let’s stop worrying about things we can’t control and start talking about what we’re going to build.”
His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Adventure Weekend.” The words came out steadier than my heart felt. “I’ve been sketching out a plan. Friday night we’ll have a bonfire and gear demos. Saturday we’ll have guided hikes, and a scavenger hunt through town with check-ins at the cafe, The Woodshed, and the store. During the afternoon we’ll host clinics for knot-tying, building a campfire, and fireside cooking. On Sunday I’m planning on kayaking and fishing at the creek.”
He blinked, clearly thrown by the shift in conversation, but I forged ahead. If he needed time to figure us out, fine. But I could damn well make sure his store didn’t collapse in the meantime.
“I’ll need two volunteers per station, a way to print out the liability waivers, and a marketing push that doesn’t look like those sun-bleached posters in your window.”
His lips twitched. “We’re back to insulting my posters?”
“If the boot fits.” I nudged his shoulder with mine. “I’m serious. This isn’t about keeping Big Package alive. It’s about reminding Hard Timber what it is, and what you mean to this town. I want to do this. With you.”
He was quiet a long moment. “You already created waivers?”
“Yeah.” I gave him a soft smile. “I need to run them by Rowan down at town hall, but they’re almost ready. And mock-ups for the flyers. And a pitch for sponsors.”
“Of course you did.”
“Of course I did,” I echoed, and for a second, we were back on solid ground.
We broke camp in the kind of dance that happens when two people decide, without saying it out loud, that they’re going to try. He even let me coil the tent lines even though I messed up the first one and had to re-do it.
When we were finally ready to hike out, I tried to grab the heavier pack, but he shook his head. “Not happening.”
“Fine,” I warned, “but if I start singing all the way down, that’s on you.”
He smirked and handed me the lighter one without saying another word.
On the trail, he pointed out faint switchbacks I never would’ve noticed and the kind of weather-change signs only a local paying attention would see. I told him which local businesses I thought would jump to sponsor a scavenger hunt and who I thought we could count on to pitch in and volunteer.
