He pours me a cup. Our fingers brush when he hands it to me, and I pull back too quickly—an instinct I can’t control. Something flickers across his face—hurt, maybe, or confusion—before he smooths it away with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“So.” Milo sets down the blanket he’s been folding. His bartender’s charm is muted this morning, careful. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” The word comes out clipped. Too professional. I try again. “Good. Better. The shower helped.”
More silence.
Elijah hasn’t said anything. He’s still by the window, but I can feel his attention on me like a physical weight. Watching. Waiting. That’s what he does.
Everyone is being so careful. So polite. Like we’re strangers who happened to share a taxi, not four people who spent days tangled together in ways I’m still trying to process.
I take a sip of coffee, burning my tongue. The pain is grounding.
“The roads should be clear by now,” I say, because someone has to say something. “We should probably head back to town. I’m sure you all have things to do.”
Ben and Milo exchange a look—that silent communication thing they’ve already developed, the kind of thing packs do. The kind of thing that makes my chest tight for reasons I don’t want to examine.
“Tessa,” Milo starts, his voice gentle, “maybe we should talk about?—”
“Actually.” I set down my coffee cup. My hands are steadier when I have something to do, something to organize. Work. Work is safe. “I wanted to ask you something, Ben. About the Valentine’s fundrasier.”
He blinks at the subject change. “The fundraiser?”
“The bachelor auction.” I pull out my phone—dead, of course, but the gesture is automatic. “I’m still one short. I know I asked before, but I was hoping… Will you do it?”
The question hangs in the air.
Ben stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. Behind him, Milo’s expression shifts to something I can’t read. Even Elijah turns from the window.
“You want to talk about the bachelor auction.” Ben’s voice is flat. “Right now.”
“The festival is almost a week away. I’m behind on planning because of the storm. If I don’t confirm participants by Friday?—”
“Tessa.” His voice is gentle. Too gentle. “I can’t do the auction.”
Something cold settles in my stomach. “Why not?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but before he can speak, there’s a knock at the door.
Everyone freezes.
Milo moves first, crossing to the door and pulling it open. Deputy Nate Thorn stands on the porch, snowflakes dusting his dark uniform, looking exactly as stoic and professional as always.
“Morning.” Nate’s eyes sweep the room, taking in the four of us, the rumpled nest in the corner, the tension thick enough to cut. His expression doesn’t change. “Got a call that you folks were stranded out here. Wanted to make sure everyone was okay.”
“We’re fine,” Ben says, and there’s an edge to his voice I’ve never heard before. “Who called?”
“Milo texted to let us know.” Nate’s gaze finds me, takes in the hickey on my neck, the damp hair, the careful way I’m holding myself. “Ms. Lang. Milo mentioned your car was still stuck on Ridge Road. Ben, I assume you’ll be towing it back to your shop?”
Ben nods, jaw tight. “I’ll get it handled.”
“Good. In that case, Ms. Lang, I can give you a ride into town if you need one. Save you waiting around.”
And just like that, I have an exit.
“That would be great.” The words come out before I can think about them. “I need to check on my apartment. Make sure the pipes didn’t freeze.”
“Tessa—” Ben starts.
