I nearly choke on air.
“Oh, we’re not—I mean, it’s new. I guess.”
Lie, lie, liar, my brain chants, because how do you explain whatever the hell is happening between me and Liam when you’re not even sure yourself?
Charlie grins, unbothered by my flailing.
“I’m so excited,” she says, practically bouncing. “I’ve told Sam for ages that you were perfect for Liam.”
I blink at her, heart hammering.
Perfect for Liam.
Perfect. For Liam.
The words rattle around inside me, stirring up all the messy, dangerous feelings I’m barely holding together.
Because for the first time, I realize maybe it’s not just me who feels it. Maybe it’s been written all over us for a long, long time. And maybe everyone else has seen it, too.
In the barn, Charlie and I work together to wrangle the kittens, both of us laughing when the orange tabby tries towriggle free, and the calico hisses indignantly at the indignity of being scooped up.
Afterward, I crouch down, giving Sammi a quick scratch behind her tiny black ears. She mews and butts her head against my palm, and my heart squeezes tight in my chest.
“Be good, love,” I whisper to her.
I close up the barn, securing everything just as the first fat drops of rain start to fall again.
Charlie waves from her truck as she drives away, the kittens bundled in a basket on the passenger seat, her smile bright and knowing.
I wave back, then turn, facing the house. The sight of the warm golden lights spilling out the windows, the steady thrum of rain against the roof wraps around me like a second skin. Home. I exhale, trying to steady the way my heart flips in my chest and head inside.
The kitchen smells faintly of coffee and fresh rain as I wash my hands at the sink, scrubbing away the lingering scent of hay and kitten fur.
When I glance over my shoulder, Liam’s there leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with an intensity that makes my pulse skitter.
“She pick one?” he asks, voice low and rough in that way that does dangerous things to my insides.
I grin, reaching for a towel to dry my hands. “Two. Sam’s gonna be thrilled.”
“Nah,” he says, pushing off the counter, moving closer, his body heat brushing against me. “I don’t think he’ll mind. He’s a sucker for Charlie.”
He stops just a breath away, so close I can smell the rain on his skin, the heat of him wrapping around me like a promise.
“Want to prep for dinner?” he asks, voice softer now, like it’s more than just dinner he’s offering.
I look up at him—this man who’s been my boss, my friend, my safe place—and realize with a thud in my chest that somewhere along the way he’s become everything.
I swallow past the lump in my throat and nod, feeling the smile tugging at my lips.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Let’s do it.”
We move around the kitchen with the kind of ease that only comes from years of knowing each other, but now, everything feels different. Liam pulls vegetables from the fridge while I hunt for the cutting boards, our shoulders brushing once, twice, three times as we pass each other. Each touch lingers a little longer than it should. Each glance stretches a little hotter than before.
Still, we pretend like nothing’s changed.
Sort of.
“You gonna actually cook,” I tease, bumping him with my hip as I set a cutting board on the island. “Or are you just here for moral support?”
