His jaw was clean-shaven today, with hair slightly tousled, and his jacket was unzipped enough to show a fitted thermal shirt underneath.
He looked… annoyingly good.
He glanced at me. “Sleep okay?”
“Nope.”
A beat went by between us when I realized what I’d said.
“I mean…fine. Totally fine. Perfect. Great sleep. Love it. Sleeping is my hobby.”
He breathed a quiet laugh, visible only in the curve of his cheek. “Same.”
“Oh,” I said. “You didn’t sleep either?”
“No.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer, but I caught something in his expression. There was something unguarded, nearly vulnerable, before he looked away.
Heat crawled up my neck, and I cleared my throat, wishing away the awkwardness rolling through me.
When we reached the gear shed, he opened the door for me, and I stepped inside, inhaling the familiar smells of canvas, rope, pine cleaner, and cold metal.
But suddenly there was something else that was warmer, like last night.
He stepped in behind me, and the closeness hit me again. It was that gravitational pull I couldn’t explain or deny or talk myself out of. It was the one that would keep me in Alaska if I had my way.
Carson walked toward the far wall of neatly arranged equipment. “I wanted to reinventory the dry bags before the next trips.”
“Okay,” I said. But my voice came out softer than intended.
He noticed, or maybe I imagined he noticed.
He reached for a bin, muscles shifting under his shirt, and I nearly forgot how breathing worked.
Focus, Sienna. Focus.
I lifted another bin and carried it to the table. “So. Last night.”
He paused, and everything in the room felt suddenly sharp and still.
“What about it?” he asked.
“I…” My throat tightened. “I just want to make sure we’re okay.”
“We are.”
“Good,” I said quickly. “Because we work together. We guide together. And kissing, which was… something of an accident, shouldn’t complicate that.”
“It doesn’t have to,” he offered.
The way he said it, low and steady, sent a warmth unfurling under my ribs.
I swallowed. “Good. Professionalism. Yay teamwork. It was a total accident, and I’m sorry.”
He looked at me like he was trying very hard not to smile. “Right.”
