“I just need some time.” The words come out sharper than I intend. I force myself to take a breath, to soften my voice. “Please. Just... give me a few days. To figure out my head.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
“Okay,” Milo says quietly. “Whatever you need.”
I finally make myself look at them. Ben’s jaw is tight, but he nods. Milo’s expression is careful, controlled. And Elijah—Elijah just watches me with those steady eyes and says, “I’ll wait.”
Two words. That’s all. But something in my chest cracks.
I turn away before I can do something stupid like cry.
“Thank you.” I’m moving toward the door, grabbing my coat and my bag from where I left them by the kitchen counter. “For everything. For your help during the storm. I really appreciate it.”
The words are formal. Distant. Professional. The kind of thing you say to acquaintances, not to three men who just spent four days inside you.
I can feel their eyes on my back. Can feel Ben wanting to say more, Milo’s careful restraint, Elijah’s silent intensity. But they’re giving me what I asked for.
“Ready when you are,” I tell Nate, and I’m out the door before I can change my mind.
The truck is warm,the heater blasting against my frozen fingers. I stare out the window at the snow-covered trees, my hands clasped tight in my lap to keep them from shaking.
Nate doesn’t say anything for the first mile. He’s always been like that—quiet, professional, the kind of deputy who observes more than he speaks. It’s one of the things I’ve always appreciated about him at town events. He does his job without fuss or drama.
“So,” he says finally. “Rough couple of days?”
I let out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “You could say that.”
“Storm was a bad one. Lot of people got stranded.”
“Mmm.”
Silence again. I watch the snow blur past, white and pristine, the blizzard’s destruction hidden under a fresh layer of beautiful, unmarked snow.
“For what it’s worth,” Nate says, “Milo sounded worried when he texted. Asked me to come by as soon as the roads were clear. Said you might need an out.”
My throat tightens. Of course Milo called. Of course he noticed I was panicking before I even fully realized it myself. That’s what he does—reads people, anticipates their needs, smooths over the rough edges.
It should feel caring. Instead, it feels like one more thing I couldn’t control.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Just need to get back to work. The festival planning has been completely derailed by this storm.”
Nate nods. He doesn’t push.
We drive in silence for another minute before I remember—the auction. My fallback. The one thing I can still organize, still control.
“Actually,” I say, “since I have you here. I’ve been trying to fill out the bachelor auction lineup. Would you be interested in participating?”
He glances at me, eyebrows raised. “The auction?”
“It’s for charity. All you have to do is walk across a stage and let people bid on a date with you. Very low-key.”
“Yeah why not.” He shrugs. “ I was working but now I’m free. Switched shifts with Seth Monroe for that night. He needed a weekend off for something with his pack—they’re doing a trip.”
I nod, but my brain has snagged on something.
He switched shifts with Seth. Because Seth needed time for his pack.
“That must be complicated,” I hear myself say. “Scheduling around a pack, I mean. Multiple people’s needs.”
