He nodded slowly. “Tomorrow works.”
And then, because the universe enjoyed my suffering, he added, “Looking forward to it.”
I nearly swallowed my tongue.
Carson gave Barcode a pat on the head, then glanced over at me one last time before turning toward the trail leading back to his cabin.
I watched him go.
Stupidly.
Weakly.
Regretting every cell in my body that reacted to him like he was the answer to a question I hadn’t meant to ask.
Less Carson, I told myself.
Less Carson would be better.
Safer.
Simpler.
But as Barcode nudged my shoulder, almost in sympathy or mockery, I knew the truth.
Tomorrow was going to ruin everything.
And it hadn’t even arrived yet.
Chapter Eight
Carson
Sienna pushed our planning meeting off twice.
Not once.
Twice.
Which, if I had been someone else, wouldn’t have bothered me. Delays happen. Schedules shift. People are distracted.
But I wasn’t someone else. I was me. A man who had spent years avoiding unnecessary social entanglements. A man who preferred clarity, quiet, and structure. A man who, for reasons I preferred not to examine too closely, kept replaying the sound of Sienna’s startled yelp when I approached her by the zebra paddock.
And then she avoided me.
For forty-eight hours.
Her sisters didn’t seem surprised. When Violet spotted me reorganizing the ropes outside the lodge yesterday, she’d said,“Don’t take it personally. She runs from anything that resembles change. Which is almost everything.”
Fiona had nodded. “Yeah, she’ll talk to a moose but not a man she’s attracted to.”
I nearly dropped an entire crate of climbing harnesses.
“She is not,” I’d started, but stopped.
But they had both walked off, laughing like I was the punchline.
Which might have explained some things. Or confused everything further. I wasn’t sure.
