He doesn’t bite. He just looks at me, eyes steady and unblinking, like he’s trying to figure out what I’m made of.
Then he holds the bag out. “Take it.”
I take it, because I’m not insane.
The warmth seeps into my fingers through the paper, and my stomach immediately betrays me by growling again, loud enough to echo.
Beau’s eyebrow lifts.
I close my eyes. “Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”
“I can’t pretend I didn’t hear a bear trapped inside your body.”
“That is so rude.”
“It’s accurate.”
I laugh before I can stop myself, and Beau’s gaze drops—just for a second—to my mouth.
My breath catches.
He looks back up fast, like he’s annoyed with himself.
“I’m fine,” I say quickly. “I mean. I’m not fine. I’m hungry. But I’m—thank you.”
He nods once, like gratitude isn’t his favorite thing to receive.
“You got heat?” he asks.
“Yes. The heater’s working. The fireplace is… debating.”
His eyes go past me into the cabin. “You know how to use it?”
I open my mouth.
Then close it.
Then say, honestly, “I watched a YouTube video.”
He stares at me for a beat, then exhales through his nose like he’s trying not to laugh.
“It was very informative,” I add defensively.
“Uh-huh.”
“I am a capable woman.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
His voice is low and calm, and the way he says it—like he actually believes it—makes my chest squeeze.
I shift my weight. “So… you’re going back up to Haven 7?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you… live there?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He pauses, eyes narrowing slightly. Not annoyed. More like… cautious.
