“You have to go anyway,” Violet chimed in. “Supplies. Stores. Coffee shops. You cannot hide on lodge property all season.”
That was exactly what I preferred to do, but apparently, no one here cared about my preferences.
Sienna sputtered. “He does not need me for that. He can drive. He has a truck.”
Her mother waved her off. “Nonsense. You two should get comfortable working together.”
Sienna shot me a look that could have cut through rope. “I do not think comfort is the issue.”
I nearly smiled. Nearly.
Her mother continued, “Five minutes in the car will not kill you. Besides, you enjoy company.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I do not actually.”
Her mom ignored that completely and wiped her hands on a towel. “Perfect. Sienna will take you. Have fun.”
Fun.
I could think of many words for what was about to happen, but fun was not at the top of the list.
Before I could argue, before Sienna could escape or shove her head in the dishwasher, the two of us were being ushered toward the hallway with suspicious enthusiasm.
“So, no gear shed today?” I muttered to Sienna, and she groaned.
We stepped outside again, and the melting snow glittered like crushed diamonds. Spring and our first trip would be here soon.
Sienna pulled her coat tighter around herself as if it were a shield she wished she could hide inside.
Neither of us spoke as we walked across the lot toward my truck. Her boots kicked small puffs of crystals into the air. I followed her pace, watching the set of her shoulders, noting the tension she was clearly trying and failing to camouflage.
The attraction I felt earlier still lingered between us like an ember refusing to die. I didn’t want it. I didn’t invite it. Yet here it was settling into my bloodstream.
Sienna reached the passenger door and paused, glaring at the handle like it had personally insulted her.
“I just want to be very clear,” she said tightly. “I am doing this under protest.”
I unlocked the doors. “So am I.”
She scowled and climbed in. “Excellent. We are both thrilled.”
I shut my door and started the engine. She folded her arms across her chest and stared out the window with the expression of someone considering pushing me out of the moving vehicle.
The silence was thick.
Tense.
The air buzzed with things neither of us wanted to admit to hearing or feeling.
When I pulled onto the narrow road leading out of Honey Leaf Lodge, she finally spoke.
“You were not supposed to hear that.”
I kept my eyes on the snow-covered trees ahead. “I know.”
“It was taken completely out of context.”
“I figured.”
