“Hold up,” Marcus says. “Does he know?”
“No,” I admit, wincing. “I haven’t told him.”
“Caspian Lane!” Marcus’s voice rises in pitch. “You need to tell him! Like yesterday!”
“I know, I know.” I groan, shaping the dough into a circle and patting it down to cut it into triangles. “But what if he gets upset that I didn’t tell him sooner? Or worse, what if this whole thing between us is just casual for him and knowing about New Year’s Eve makes it weird?”
“Or,” Marcus counters, “what if he finds out some other way and feels like you’ve been lying to him? Which, by the way, you kind of have been.”
“I haven’t been lying,” I protest weakly. “I just…haven’t mentioned it.”
“Honey, that’s a lie of omission, and you know it.” Marcus’s voice softens. “Look, I get why you’re scared. But if Nate is half the guy you’ve been gushing about, he deserves to know the truth.”
I lean against the counter, closing my eyes. “What if he’s only interested in hooking up? What if telling him makes him realize this is getting too complicated?”
“Then he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you,” Marcus says firmly. “But, Cas, sweetie, think about it. If he’s only interested in hooking up, wouldn’t he have already made that clear? From what you’ve told me, he’s been pretty invested in spending time with you, helping with the coffee shop, and carrying maple syrup samples…”
“Those were for the coffee shop,” I mumble.
“Right, because every forest product whatever-his-title-is stops their workday to personally help every new business owner in town unload their cars,” Marcus says dryly. “Face it, babe. He likes you. And if he does, finding out you’re also the guy he had amazing chemistry with on New Year’s Eve isn’t going to change that. If anything, it might make him realize how special your connection is.”
The timer dings, and I pull out the first batch of scones, their golden-brown tops glistening with melted cheese. The familiar motions of baking help calm my racing thoughts.
“You’re right,” I finally admit. “I need to tell him.”
“Of course I’m right. I’m always right. Now, tell me more about this coffee shop of yours. When do I get to visit?”
CHAPTER 26
NATE
The hot water cascades down my back as I lean against the shower wall, my mind replaying earlier moments with Caspian. Steam fills the bathroom, fogging the glass doors. My body responds instantly to the memory of his touch, of his taste.
I’ve been hard since lunchtime, and now, as I take the necessary care to prepare myself for Caspian, I’m harder than ever.
I take my time washing carefully. The anticipation builds with each passing moment. It’s been a while since I’ve trusted anyone enough to be this vulnerable, to want this kind of intimacy. But with Caspian, everything feels different. Natural. Right.
After finishing in the shower, I dry off quickly and wrap a towel around my waist. The mirror is fogged, but I can still make out my reflection—cheeks flushed from the hot water, and I swear my body gives away how much I want this.
The afternoon’s work is now long forgotten—endless emails about tree assessments, Jason’s detailed report from today’s visit, and three more requests from farms wanting evaluations before spring.
I pull on a pair of comfortable gray sweatpants, debating whether to go to Caspian’s or wait here when the doorbell rings and settles that question. Caspian is here. My skin is still warm from the shower, and I skip the shirt for now.
When I open the door, I find him laden with boxes and bags, his cheeks pink from the cold. His eyes travel appreciatively over my bare chest, and I feel a surge of satisfaction at his obvious approval.
“Need some help with those?” I ask, reaching for some of his burden.
“Thanks,” he says, passing me the bags as he toes off his boots. “I, uh, picked up some groceries. I thought you might not have had time to shop with how busy you’ve been.”
The thoughtfulness of the gesture catches me off guard, warming something deep in my chest. “That’s… Thank you. I actually really needed to go shopping. Was planning to order in tonight.”
“No need.” He grins, following me to the kitchen. “I made dinner. And dessert.”
We set everything on the counter, and I can’t help but pull him close for a kiss. He melts against me, his cold hands pressing against my warm skin, making me shiver in the best way.
When we break apart, his eyes are half-lidded. “What was that for?”
“Because I wanted to,” I say simply. “Because you’re thoughtful and kind and…” I trail off, suddenly unsure how to express everything I’m feeling.
