“I told you Monday,” I say quietly, “you talk too much when you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Sure you are.”
“I’m not.”
I lean one hand on the truck behind her, effectively caging her in. “Then why are you breathing like that?”
Her eyes flare.
Her chest rises too fast.
She’s warm, flushed, caught between wanting to push me away and wanting to pull me closer.
She swallows. “This is very inappropriate for a field trip.”
“I haven’t touched you.”Yet.
“You don’t have to,” she whispers.
My jaw flexes. “That a complaint?”
“No.”
Her honesty slams into me. For a moment neither of us moves, air stretched tight between us. Junie breaks the spell.
“Mommy! I mean, Miss Briar!” she calls from across the bay. “Can I climb in the truck?”
Briar startles, breath rushing out. “No—yes—no—wait—Captain Cole?”
I force myself to step back.
Focus, Cole.
Do your damn job.
I nod at Junie. “Yeah, kid. I’ll show you.”
Her face lights up. Then she grabs Briar’s hand and drags her along. As they move, Briar glances over her shoulder at me. It’s small. Barely there. But it hits like a match striking. She wants this. Wants the tension. Wants the way I close in on her like she’s the only thing in the room worth looking at.
I follow them to the cab.
Junie climbs up with my help and immediately makes siren noises.
Briar hovers behind her, laughing under her breath.
“You good?” I ask Briar, low enough the kid can’t hear.
She nods. “Of course.”
“Because you look…” I drag my gaze down her again, “…flustered.”
“I am not flustered.”
“You were pinned between me and that engine two minutes ago.”
“You were the one doing the pinning.”
