We’re still close enough that anyone with eyes can see what was happening.
Standing in the doorway:
Mrs. Dottie.
Mrs. Henderson.
Mrs. Crenshaw.
And my father.
The fire chief.
All four of them stare.
Levi’s hand drops from my waist. My face burns.
Mrs. Dottie fans herself dramatically. “Well.”
Mrs. Henderson gasps. “I told you.”
My father’s eyes narrow.
“Explain,” he says calmly.
Levi steps forward immediately, shoulders squared.
“Door jammed,” he says evenly. “We were checking inventory.”
Mrs. Crenshaw sniffs. “Inventory looks very close these days.”
I cross my arms, trying to appear composed.
“We were stuck,” I say.
Mrs. Dottie beams. “Oh, honey, we could tell.”
Levi’s jaw tightens.
My father studies us both for a long moment.
“You two look flushed,” he says flatly.
“It’s hot in there,” Levi replies.
Mrs. Henderson clutches her pearls. “It looked hot in there.”
Heat crawls up my neck.
My father sighs.
“Get back to work,” he orders.
Levi nods once. “Yes, Chief.”
The church ladies exchange delighted looks. The gossip will spread before sunset. Levi steps aside so I can exit the closet first.
As I brush past him, our hands graze and he leans in just enough for me to hear. “Careful, Hotshot.”
