His smile turned slow. Dangerous. “Then we’ll have to figure out what to do about that.”
My pulse skipped.
I took a breath, feeling the weight of his attention settle into me. Whatever this was—friendship, history, something pressing up against the edge of want—it wasn’t nothing. And we both knew it.
Neither of us crossed the line.
But we both stood close enough to feel the heat.
I cleared my throat. “So. Slight change of subject.”
“All right,” he said.
“There’s a Texas Night tonight. Line dancing. North Charleston.”
His eyebrow lifted. “You serious?”
“I am,” I said. “My friends and I plan to dominate.”
He leaned back, amused. “I’d need to wear my cowboy hat and real boots for that.”
Something in his tone made my stomach dip. “I think you’d look … right at home.”
His gaze lingered on me in a way that felt intentional. “I’d love to go.”
He said it so easily—I’d love to go—like it wasn’t a loaded sentence. Like it didn’t send a slow, dangerous ripple through my body.
“Really?” I asked, trying to sound casual and failing a little.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling into his coffee. “I haven’t line danced in years. Might be rusty.”
I laughed. “That’s impossible. You’re from Valentine. It’s muscle memory.”
“Careful,” he said. “You’re about to challenge my Texas credibility.”
“I absolutely am.”
Juneberry hummed around us—cups clinking, quiet conversation, the hiss of the espresso machine—but it felt like we were sealed off in our own pocket of space.
Wyatt leaned forward, forearms resting on the table, and I became acutely aware of the way his shirt pulled slightly across his shoulders when he moved. The way his hands looked wrapped around the ceramic mug. Strong. Capable. Familiar in a way that made my thoughts wander somewhere they probably shouldn’t—especially at ten in the morning.
“So,” he said, tilting his head. “Your friends. They okay with some guy from your past crashing?”
“Yes. They like you,” I added. “Which is … alarming.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Yes,” I said immediately. “Beth is relentless.”
He grinned, unbothered. “I’ve faced worse.”
I sipped my coffee, letting the warmth settle my nerves. “They’re spending the day by the pool. Told me to take my time with you before joining them.”
Something in his expression shifted—subtle, but there. Interest sharpening. “Did they?”
“Don’t read into that,” I warned.
“I’m absolutely reading into that.”
