“What?”
“Before,” he said softly. “Before my parents died. Holidays felt like this. Loud. Real. Messy. Good.”
I looked at him, truly looked at him, and my heart twisted… that was why.
He glanced at me, expression open in a way that made my chest go warm. “It’s been a long time since I let myself be part of something like this.”
“Carson,” I said gently, “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. I just didn’t realize how much I made myself forget.” His eyes locked on mine.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
His jaw flexed. “I’m here because I want to be.”
That sentence hit places I didn’t have emotional armor for.
“I—” My throat tightened. “I’m glad you’re here.”
His eyes dipped, just a fraction, to my mouth.
And suddenly all I could think about was the tent.
His breath on my skin.
His hands under my shirt.
The way he’d whispered,Tell me you don’t want this.
I stepped back abruptly, heart racing.
He frowned. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. No. I just…” I waved a helpless hand in the air. “Easter. Family. Food. Chaos. So much.”
His eyes softened. “Sienna.”
I shook my head too fast. “Nope. No intense moments before ham.”
He laughed softly.
In the window behind us, Violet mimed fanning herself.
I groaned. Carson chuckled.
And it should not have been possible for a man in chinos and a button-up to make my knees weak on a major holiday, but here we were.
“I’m going to help with the rolls,” I said, fleeing under the pretense of responsibility.
He didn’t stop me, but as I reached the door, I heard him murmur behind me.
“I’m not running, Sienna.”
It hit me like a warm, terrifying truth.
And when I turned back, he was watching me like I was the only thing worth paying attention to in a house full of noise.
Which was why I absolutely had to escape before my heart threw itself into the red potatoes.
