“All of the above,” I said, heat blooming under my shirt.
He nodded once. “Yes. It’s weird.”
“But not… bad weird?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Or is it bad weird? Or could there be a good weird?”
His gaze held mine.
“No,” he said, low and honest. “Not bad.”
Electricity zipped down my spine, and before one of us could do something catastrophically unprofessional, like recreate last night but without the Subaru to lean on, the shed door creaked open.
I jolted backward like I’d been caught stealing, and Carson stepped away too fast to be subtle.
Beck stuck his head in. “Hey! Mom says lunch is ready. And Violet says, ‘Tell Sienna to behave.’ I assume she knows you won’t.”
I pitched a carabiner at his ankle, just enough to chase him away but not enough to inflict pain or damage.
Beck ducked and grinned like a possessed cupid. “Cute. Anyway, hurry up. The chili’s getting cold.”
He vanished again.
Carson exhaled, tension draining from his shoulders. “Your family should come with warning labels.”
“Oh, they do,” I said. “Just invisible ones written in paprika because Violet likes to spice things up.”
He actually smiled at that, and I like seeing his real smile, which was slow and warm. It was the kind that crept up his face and forced me to do crazy things like kiss him.
But I didn’t because I was a professional.
We packed away the final dry bag. I wiped my hands on my pants and tried to pretend my pulse wasn’t misbehaving.
“You ready?” I asked.
“For the chili?” he said.
“For the chaos.”
He gave a resigned nod. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We walked toward the lodge, close enough that our arms brushed twice, but far enough that neither of us drifted closer.
And I kind of hated that part.
It felt like standing on the edge of something I wasn’t sure I was allowed to want because we had two different lives; he was here temporarily, and I usually had one foot out of the state in my off months.
But as we reached the porch steps, he paused and looked down at me.
It wasn’t a long look, but it was intense enough that I forgot the next five seconds of my life.
“Sienna,” he said quietly, “about last night…”
My breath caught.
“Yes?”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
Because my brother opened the door again and yelled. “If you two are having another moment, can you do it after lunch? We’re starving!”
