Ben smiled at his phone, reading that last message again.
I can't wait.
Three simple words that had kept him up half the night, wondering what it meant that Charlie King—careful, guarded Charlie—had said them so plainly.
His phone buzzed with another text.
In the VIP lot. See you in ten.
Ben stepped out of the forge to meet them, wiping his palms on his apron like a nervous teenager.
When he caught sight of Charlie, Ben forgot how to breathe.
She was in her usual tactical gear—dark pants, boots, fitted jacket over a t-shirt—but seeing her again after spending the week remembering how good she felt under his hands and fantasying about everywhere else he wanted to touch her made everything sharper. The way she moved, scanning the area with professional efficiency. The way the morning light caught her hair as she turned. The way her eyes found his immediately.
Shane walked beside her, grinning like he knew exactly what Ben was thinking. Viv and Rowan were on her other side, Maddie trailing slightly behind them, everyone stretching and talking after the drive from Boulder.
Charlie walked toward him, professional mask firmly in place, but there was something in her expression—a softness around her eyes, the hint of a smile peaking through her professional armor—that made his chest go tight.
“Morning,” she said when she reached him.
“Morning.” His voice came out rougher than he intended. “Good week?”
“Long week.” Charlie glanced back at the group, then at him. “But we're here now.”
“Yeah.” Ben couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face. “You are.”
Shane smirked. “Moose. You gonna stand there grinning at her all day, or are we getting this show on the road?”
Charlie's cheeks flushed pink, and Ben wanted to punch Shane in the shoulder. Instead, he cleared his throat and stepped back, gesturing toward the forge.
“Chain mail's ready. Come on in.”
The group filed into the forge—Viv immediately gravitating toward the display cases, Rowan heading straight for the armor stand where his mail waited, Maddie pulling out her ever-present tablet. Shane stayed near the door, eyes scanning the area like the operator he'd always be.
And Charlie stayed close to Ben, close enough that he could smell her shampoo—rich and warm, a familiar forest scent.
Sun on ponderosa bark.
When she looked up at him, he could see the gold flecks in her hazel eyes.
“Missed you,” she said quietly, just for him.
Ben's heart did something dangerous in his chest. “Missed you too.”
Shane cleared his throat. “I'm gonna go coordinate with security. Make sure we've got eyes on all the entry points.” He looked at Charlie. “You good here?”
“Yeah. I've got Viv.” Charlie's professional mask slid back into place.
“Text me if anything feels off.” Shane nodded at Ben, then headed out toward the Security tent.
Viv was examining the display cases with the intensity of someone who understood craftsmanship. She traced a finger along the glass near a perfectly balanced longsword. “These are incredible, Ben. The detail work is...” She shook her head. “I can't believe you make all of this by hand.”
“Thank you.” Ben moved to stand beside her. “Actually, I wanted to show you something. The preliminary sketches for the Embersword.”
Viv’s eyes lit up. “Lead the way.”
Ben crossed to his workbench and retrieved a leather portfolio. He laid it open on the counter, revealing detailed sketches—multiple angles of a sword that managed to look both elegant and deadly.
