“I’m—” Austin curses. “—sorry, okay?”
Samson twists Austin’s shirt. “That was a subpar apology.”
Austin sputters, glowering back at the giant, beautiful, wonderful man. “Well, what do you want me to do? Plead forgiveness on my knees?”
A dark brow quirks.
Stark disgust erupts on Austin’s face as his nostrils flare. “Absolutely not.”
“Try for an ounce of sincerity first.” Samson’s deep blue eyes narrow. “Then, after, we’ll see if Citrus wants you on your knees.”
My hand hits my mouth before I can think twice. I’m almost positive my heart launches into the stratosphere as heavy red floods my cheeks.
To Austin’s credit, his eyes widen and heat that matches his auburn hair skates across his cheekbones, too. Even though he’s an idiot, he knows the weight of what Samson just said.
He knows it washot.
The stupid blacksmith’s gaze cuts toward me, then down. He clears his throat as he jerks his shirt out of Samson’s grasp, brushes off his leather apron, and grumbles, “I’m sorry for being insensitive. It was…cold of me to assume your character based on limited interactions.However,” he states, strongly, crossing his arms across his chest and wrinkling his nose, “in my defense, you called me anemotionally-immature chipmunkthe second time we met.”
Samson’s cough sounds deceptively like a laugh.
I cross my arms in kind and toss my head away from Austin with a high-pitched harrumph. “I don’t deserve abuse for my apt observations.”
Austin snarls, turning to Samson. “Why do I have to apologize for my quick judgment, butshedoesn’t have to apologize for hers?”
Is he implying that my judgment was quick?Laughable.
Sir, I gagged my way through your entire romanceable character arc togive you a chance.
Oh thehours upon hoursanddays upon daysI’ve had to judge you.
Making me love him ever more, Samson deadpans, “Because her judgment is right.” Like an endearing older brother, Samson blips Austin’s forehead. “You’ve got a lot of growing up to do, city kid. It’s painfully obvious your city roots were kinder to your physical well-being than hers were. Hating your city childhood doesn’t give you the right to hate her.”
Austin’s eye twitches, but he mutters, “I don’t have time to hate a random person who wandered into town. I have more important things to do.” Turning, he knocks into Samson’s immovable shoulder in an effort to head back inside. “Good luck, you—” he swears, and the solid door closes behind him.
Silence and blossom petals fill the air between Samson and me. After long, taut moments, I find my breath. “Th-thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” He reaches for me, combing a shower of petals out of my hair, then closes his fist at his side. Assured, he strides past. “We’re running out of daylight. Let’s start clearing that trail.”
Shivering, I follow, and when a petal lands in his hair, right in front me, I carefully swipe it free to put in my lemon pocket.
Chapter 17
♥♥♥♥
Is this…a heart event?
Ihighlyprefer clicking ayestext box and being transported instantly to the cherry tree grove. Which is at the top of a two-mile uphill trek.
My noodle arms and legs crave the pillow of pink stretched beneath the blush boughs of the trees dappled before me. Just like Samson said, the path up was a mess of fallen trees, debris, and ruts, but here—at the lush crest far from any rivers—it’s as though the storm never happened.
Save for the occasional downed branch, the scene is perfect, stretching into an endless horizon that overlooks Gem Ridge.
Approaching the sheer cliff drop and breaking from beneath the pink boughs, I peer at a slew of dollhouses, forest, and disrepair.
Even from way up here, the destruction stands out like so many open wounds.
“What do you think?” Samson murmurs while I’m staring at the forever blue of the ocean.
