Then he left.
And now I was left replaying the scenario over and over again in my head as I stared at the ceiling in my cabin.
And I sat there thinking about everything I’d learned, everything I’d felt, everything I’d done, including, yes, the part where I slept with her after being told she was skittish and emotionally untethered.
Good job, Carson. Excellent listening skills.
Except I hadn’t planned it.
Hadn’t thought it through.
Hadn’t been able to stop.
And I didn’t regret it.
Not for a second.
Which made everything more complicated earlier today, when we were finally alone in the gear shed getting ready for our next set of spring trips, and the complication only intensified. Just the thought made me smile.
Because this morning I walked in and found a zebra.
A literal zebra. The zebra that appeared to have impeccable timing, standing there as if it belonged.
Perhaps, it did.
I stopped in the doorway and blinked several times.
No.
Too early in the day for hallucinations.
But no, the creature was real, its white coat striped with black, tail swishing, face buried in a box of collapsible water jugs.She lifted her head, ears pricked forward, and regarded me with mild disdain.
I stared back. “You’re… Barcode.”
The zebra snorted as if offended I didn’t say it with enough reverence.
I took half a step inside. “I didn’t know the enclosure gate was open.”
She swished her tail again in a manner that clearly said,The enclosure gate didn’t need to be open. I am invincible.
Of course, she was. No, she didn’t say that, but it could have.
Everything at Honey Leaf seemed choreographed in some strange, lore-infused way.
“You can’t be in here,” I said slowly, moving toward it. “This is a gear storage zone. Not a—”
The zebra nosed me aside with more force than I expected and began rummaging through a crate of headlamps.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Please don’t eat those.”
She did not respect me.
A warm, familiar, amused laugh sounded from the doorway.
“You found her,” Sienna said, stepping inside.
My entire body responded to her voice before I even turned. She was wearing a light flannel, half-tucked into faded hiking jeans, her braid thrown over one shoulder, cheeks flushed from the cool morning air.
