Fast.
Deep enough that the idea of leaving suddenly felt unthinkable.
I didn’t want to run.
I wanted to stay.
With him.
With the lodge.
With this unexpected, terrifying, wonderful thing growing between us.
For once in my life… I didn’t want distance.
And that terrified me.
In the best possible way.
Carson didn’t push closer, didn’t kiss me, didn’t reach out to close the last inch between our hands. He stayed exactly where he was…close enough to pull the breath from my lungs, far enough that the choice was mine.
That was the part that undid me.
He didn’t want to corner me or chase me or rush me. He wanted me tochoosehim. On my own terms. In my own time. And for someone whose entire personality was built around avoiding entrapment, that freedom was far more intimate than a kiss would’ve been.
I pulled in a slow breath, letting the sunlight warm the back of my neck, trying to make sense of the riot happening underneath my ribs.
“Carson,” I murmured, picking at the hem of the blanket because looking at him directly felt too overwhelming, “I’m used to chaos. And escape plans. And… not staying in one emotional piece very long.”
“I know,” he said softly.
“But when I’m with you, I don’t… feel like running. Not in a bad way.” I swallowed. “It scares me because it’s new. And because it’s strong.”
He turned his hand, palm up, resting it on the blanket between us—not touching, just inviting. “Strong doesn’t have to mean dangerous.”
“For me, it always has.”
He didn’t argue. He didn’t tell me my fears were irrational or that I was overthinking. He just waited, steady and patient, an anchor instead of a cage.
I placed my fingers on his palm.
“Sienna,” he said, voice low, “this doesn’t have to be rushed. Or defined. Or solved today. But I’m not going anywhere.”
That simple sentence unfurled something inside me I didn’t realize had been knotted.
“I believe you,” I whispered.
His fingers curled slightly around mine.
“Good.”
We sat there in the sunlight, our lunch forgotten, our hands barely touching, the world moving quietly around us while something far less quiet moved between us.
And for the first time in a long, long while…
Staying felt less like a trap and more like a beginning.
Chapter Forty
