I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck.
This wasn't good.
This wasn’t smart.
This wasn’t what I did.
I didn’t connect.
I didn’t date.
I didn’t let people in.
I didn’t kiss lodge owners’ daughters in front of entire towns.
I came here to fill a staffing gap, earn money, and leave in September.
That was all.
Abby slid a plate and a steaming mug toward me. “Americano and croissant, one existential crisis on the side.”
I looked up sharply. “What?”
She laughed. “Relax. You just have the face of a man thinking very hard about something someone said last night…or did.”
Damn.
I wasn’t used to being readable.
I took a long sip of the Americano, smooth, smoky, thankfully scalding, and tore off a piece of croissant.
“Thanks,” I said. “Just needed a break.”
“Makes sense,” she said, leaning on the counter. “The Harpers can be… a lot.”
I exhaled a quiet breath. “You could say that.”
“They’re good people, though.” Her expression softened. “They take care of their own.”
I knew that. Anyone could see that. The lodge practically buzzed with affection and sibling chaos and warmth so thick it felt like walking through sunlight.
I glanced at the window. “Are they always that cheerful?”
Abby barked a laugh. “Mostly. Except for Sienna.”
That made my head tilt before I could hide it. “Except for Sienna?”
“Yep.” She wiped down a section of the counter. “She’s a harder nut to crack, that one.”
I tried not to react, but something in my chest tightened…interest sharpened by instinct.
“How so?” I asked as casually as I could manage.
Abby shrugged. “Sienna’s… different. Fiery. Always has been. Even as a kid, she was a wanderer.”
A wanderer.
That word hit me deeper than it should have.
