“I did.”
“For her.”
Gage nodded once.
Claire took a slow sip of tea. “What happens now that you’re here?”
“Now we see if distance taught us the same thing.”
Claire tilted her head, as if trying to decide whether he was built to last, or just built to impress. “What did it teach you?”
“That summer’s better when she’s there.”
Bea gulped her coffee a little too fast, her heart flip-flopping in her chest. Neither of them paid attention to her.
“You got something against the snow?” Claire demanded.
“She doesn’t belong in the cold,” Gage said mildly.
“So she’s like a houseplant? Needs sunlight and mild temperatures to thrive?”
“You’re her best friend,” he remarked. “You tell me which she prefers.”
Oof. The rally had ended Advantage Gage. They all knew Bea wasn’t built for the winter.
Claire’s eyes narrowed. “You know exactly how intimidating you are, don’t you.”
Gage finally took a sip of his coffee, mouth twitching. “I’ve been told.”
Claire didn’t let her expression change, but Bea knew that look. Claire was, reluctantly, impressed. She just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
“You have questions,” Gage predicted.
Under the table, his hand found Bea’s knee. Every nerve below the table was suddenly awake.
“Obviously,” Claire volleyed. “But I’m not her dad. I’m not pulling out a shovel or demanding your tax returns.”
“I appreciate that.”
“I will ask this,” Claire said with an impish grin. “What did you think of the dress?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “I liked it. I didn’t like that I wasn’t the one she wore it for.”
Claire arched a brow. “You don’t strike me as the type who worries about competition.”
“I don’t,” he returned. “But it’s her.”
Ugh. Casual soul punch before breakfast. She took another sip just to avoid reacting. But her body had already clocked it. Chest tight. Skin warm. Stupid little thrill tucked under her ribs.
Claire tapped her spoon once against the saucer, then let it drop. “Alright then.”
The food arrived. St. Lawrence Market sourdough, scrambled eggs and bacon, waffles, a mountain of fruit, and quinoa salad with grilled chicken.
For several minutes, they ate in silence. Not awkward. Just loaded.
“You’re here for what, four days?” Claire asked, slicing into her chicken.
“Three and a half now.” He portioned off some bacon and eggs, and slid them onto Bea’s plate.
