We’re alone.
“We should give them a while before we turn in,” I say. “Half an hour, forty-five minutes.”
“Sounds good.”
I lean against the porch railing, gripping the rough wood, letting the splinters bite into my palms to forget I’m alone in the woods under a blanket of stars with the man who makes my pulse race every time he’s within ten feet of me.
Ryder joins me, leaning on the railing an arm’s length away. Close enough that his heat reaches me. Far enough that we’re not touching.
“So,” he asks oh-so-casually. “What’s the verdict on Missouri’s nature? Has it swayed you?”
I glance at him to read his meaning. “Swayed me to what?”
“To stay.”
The question drops like a glass vase. A single point of impact and then shards that spread out in every direction.
Why is he asking?
I study his face, half-shadowed in the glow of the porch lights. His jaw is tight. His eyes are searching mine, looking for answers I’m not sure I can give.
The truth is that if something had to sway me into staying, the nature of Missouri, stunning as it might be, has nothing on him.
But I can’t say that.
“It’s gorgeous,” I offer instead.
He smirks. “Giving nothing away as usual, Miss Rose.”
My name again, wrapped in formality that feels like the opposite of distance.
“Why do you want to know?” I ask.
He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to his feet. When he looks back up at me, the smirk is gone. Replaced by direct and unflinching focus.
“I could give you a lot of fake reasons.” The gentleness of his tone doesn’t match the power of his words. “Tell you I want to know if I need to look for another tenant. Or that I’m concerned about teaching standards at Harbor Point, and I’m asking for the kids. Or that I’m asking for my sister.”
My pulse picks up, thudding loud in my ears. “And what’s the real reason?”
He pushes off the railing, turning to face me and planting himself in front of me. “I’m asking for myself.”
Oh.
Joy and fear explode in my chest, twin detonations that leave me breathless. Joy because he admitted that he cares. That this isn’t one-sided.
Fear because where do we go from here?
He takes a step forward.
I bring my hands up, planting them on his chest to stop him. His heart pounds beneath my palms, strong and steady. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“You’re the father of one of my students.”
He smiles in response to my refusal.
I blink, confused by the reaction. “What are you smiling about?”
