I nearly kicked him with my boot as Carson’s jaw flexed to fight a smile.
And even as we stepped into the noise and warmth of the Harper family kitchen, I felt it. Whatever had started between us on that cold Subaru-lit night—
It wasn’t done, not even close.
Chapter Twenty
Carson
By the time I left the lodge that afternoon, my head felt like it was carrying far more than it was built to hold. The Harper house was a warm, spinning whirlwind of voices and elbows and jokes and overlapping sentences, punctuated by Beck stealing food off everyone else’s plate, and Fiona or Fifi, as everyone called her, announcing she’d found a new candle scent, while Sienna sat in a frozen state.
But I realized that I wasn’t built for this level of chaos.
Not all at once. Not every day.
Not after years of quiet, barely disturbed by anything louder than wind in the pines.
So I walked.
Or maybe it was that I could see Sienna wanting to squirm away just as much as I did.
So, after the amazing lunch, I excused myself from the lodge.
And I found myself walking along the path, across the long gravel drive, past the sign with its hand-painted pine boughs and the carved wooden bear with a honey pot.
The cold air slapped my cheeks awake as I cut across the parking lot and headed toward the road that led into Buttercup Lake. Spring was having a tough time coming to Wisconsin.
But it didn’t matter. I needed space, quiet, and something else…
I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets, wishing I could somehow reach into myself and figure out what made me so uncomfortable with noise and family…and complication.
Instead, the thoughts were all scattered on the floor of my head, tumbling with crazy words like kiss, love, and family.
There was the kiss I hadn’t expected, and a woman I couldn’t ignore.
Obviously, there was a family I didn’t mean to be pulled into. These were my temporary employers.
I had a job I’d only planned to keep until September, and the truth I kept circling back to, no matter how far I walked, was that I never anticipated any of this.
And by this, I meantfeelings.
The contract I signed was clear.
Seasonal work.
March through September.
Temporary.
No roots.
No complications.
No relationships.
Just guide, earn, leave.
That was the plan.
