I did not stop.
But I did let myself look at her again.
And when the sun hit her profile, warming her cheeks and catching on the loose strands of her hair, I felt that unwelcome spark flicker again.
Heat. Pull. Confusion.
I ignored it.
I had no intention of letting anything grow here. I didn’t need feelings, connection, or whatever had sparked in the kitchen when she turned and saw me listening.
Still, I knew one thing with startling clarity.
This season, this job, this woman who talked too fast and blushed even faster, would not leave me untouched.
And that truth unsettled me more than anything I had faced in the wilderness.
Chapter Five
Sienna
Buttercup Java’s sign swung gently in the cold morning breeze as Carson and I approached, and for the first time in my life, I wished the town's espresso shop would spontaneously close for repairs. Maybe a burst pipe. Or a temporary coffee bean shortage. Or a small, contained electrical fire.
Anything that would prevent Abby, our resident barista and professional busybody, from seeing me walk into her shop withthe hottest man Buttercup Lake had ever imported.
But no. The wooden door opened with its usual cheerful jingle, and warm air and espresso fumes enveloped us.
Carson held the door for me. Of course he did. Of course, he had manners to match the shoulders.
I walked in, trying very, very hard not to look like someone who had accidentally admitted in her own family kitchen that she wouldn’t get stuck in a cave with him.
Buttercup Java was buzzing with the usual local crowd. The mismatched chairs were full of residents bundled in flannel andscarves, even though it was spring. Fairy lights twinkled across the ceiling beams. The chalkboard menu announced a Honey Lavender Latte Special with three exclamation points, which meant Abby was in a mood.
And speaking of Abby, she spotted us instantly.
Her eyes went wide. Her eyebrows shot up. Her grin stretched from here to the Wisconsin Dells.
Oh no.
She leaned over the counter like she was about to deliver breaking news.
“Well, well, well,” she sang. “Buttercup Lake’s very own adventure Barbie and Ken.”
Carson stopped behind me.
I died inside.
“Abby,” I hissed. “Please don’t.”
She ignored that completely.
“Sienna Harper, why didn’t you tell me you were escorting a Greek god into my establishment today?”
“I’m not escorting him. And you’re married.”
“You walked in together.”
“That’s because he’s…because I…because we—”
