Did he have enough faith in fate that she would decide to stay here with him?
When Hannah stood to clear the table, Caleb rose with her, their hands brushing as they gathered plates and glasses. The contact, brief as it was, sent heat cascading through him.
When their eyes met, he saw it in her eyes. Saw that she felt it too.
And that gave him hope.
“You don’t have to help,” Hannah said, though she made no move to stop him when he followed her to the sink.
“I want to,” he replied simply.
They worked side by side at the sink, the small kitchen narrowing around them. She ran hot water into the sink and added dish soap. When Hannah reached for a wineglass at the same moment Caleb did, their fingers touched again—and he was filled with a sudden awareness.
Awareness, she felt too.
She drew back slightly, her breath catching. “Sorry,” she murmured.
Caleb shook his head, pulse racing. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
Hannah parted her lips as if she were about to say something. Caleb held his breath, hoping this was it, the moment she would voice how she felt. Confirm what the kiss meant.
But instead, her gaze dropped, and she went back to washing the dishes.
The air between them grew thick with unspoken words. Caleb could hear his own heart, too loud in the quiet kitchen. Hecould hear hers too, slightly faster than normal, as if she’d been running.
Running away or toward us,his bear murmured.
I don’t know,Caleb replied.
His gaze drifted to the sideboard where the car part sat in its nondescript box. Such a small thing to hold so much power—to hold the answer. Would she stay or would she go?
Tell her the truth,his bear said.She deserves to know.
The words burned in his throat, desperate to be spoken.I’m a bear shifter. You’re my mate. I’ve loved you since I first saw you on that mountain road.
His bear surged forward, almost breaking through his control.Tell her now. Before it’s too late.
Caleb opened his mouth, the confession on the tip of his tongue...
But then Hannah swayed slightly, her hand reaching out to steady herself against the counter. The movement was subtle, almost imperceptible, but Caleb caught it immediately. The shadows under her eyes, the slight droop of her shoulders that hadn’t been there before.
Exhaustion lined her face, making her look suddenly vulnerable in a way that tugged at his heart.
She’d had a long day. A long week. She’d seen her plans derailed, been stranded in a strange town, living under a stranger’s roof, and shared pieces of herself she’d kept hidden away. And now this—the tension between them, the unspoken words—was asking even more of her.
Perhaps too much.
His bear whined, torn between urgency and protection.
She needed rest, not revelations. She needed peace, not the weight of his truth.
Not tonight.
But tomorrow, before she left, he would lay the truth before her and accept the consequences.
With tremendous effort, Caleb swallowed the words that would change everything between them. He stepped back, creating distance, although his body ached for closeness.
“Let me take care of the dishes,” he whispered. “You’ve done enough today.”
