“Well,” I say softly, “that was definitely not about dirt.”
His breath huffs out, low, almost a laugh.
“No.”
I smile, just a little, still close enough to feel the heat of him. His hand stays at my waist a second longer before he finally lets it fall away.
But the space between us? It doesn’t go back to what it was. Not even close.
Chapter 14
Troy
We don’t talk much after that. Breakfast gets eaten faster than it should, like neither of us trusts what might come out if we slow down long enough to think about it. The sound of forks against plates fills the space instead.
Rainey keeps her focus on her food, but I catch the way her gaze lands on me now and then. Not long enough to hold. Just enough to remind me she’s still here. Still thinking about it.
So am I.
I clear the plates before either of us decides to say something that changes the direction of the day. Routine helps. Movement helps. Standing still with her right now doesn’t.
“I’ve got something to show you,” I say, keeping my tone even.
She looks up, a small crease forming between her brows. “Should I be concerned?”
“No.”
She examines my expression, like she’s trying to decide if that’s reassuring or not. Then she nods once, pushing back from the counter.
“Okay.”
She doesn’t ask anything else. That tells me more than questions would.
I lead her outside and around the side of the cabin where the four-wheeler sits parked near the edge of the drive. It’s nothing fancy. Just something I use to move between sections of the ridge without tearing up the land. Rainey stops short when she sees it.
“Oh,” she says slowly. “We’re doing this.”
“We’re doing this.”
She looks at it, then at me, then back at it again like she’s calculating risk versus curiosity.
“Is there a safety briefing?” she asks.
“Hold on.”
“That’s it?”
“Tight, hold on tight.”
She exhales a small laugh, shaking her head as she steps closer. “This feels like a trust exercise.”
“It is.”
Something changes in her face when I say that. The teasing fades, replaced by a quiet understanding of what I’m really asking her to do. Still, she swings a leg over and settles behind me, careful at first, like she’s not entirely sure where to put her hands.
I start the engine.
“Hold on,” I repeat.
