I reached for the menu just to give my hands something to do. “For now. It’s temporary.”
The word felt important to say out loud. Temporary. Not permanent. Not a commitment beyond a roof and a paycheck while I figured out what came next.
“Makes sense.” He nodded, his gaze steady on mine, no expectation or pressure. “Wings End is a good landing spot while you sort things out.”
I’d expected questions. Where are you from? What happened? Why were you camping alone in the woods? But he didn’t ask any of that. He just accepted what I’d said and moved on, and the absence of pressure left me off balance.
“You live there too?” I flipped open the menu and pulled out my glasses. “At Wings End?”
“Yeah, in a cabin past the main park area.” He picked up his own menu, thumbing through it without actually reading it. “It’s quiet and close enough to town.”
“And you work for the forestry service?”
“Yup. I’m a forest management specialist.” He set his menu down, apparently already knowing what he wanted. “Mostly patrol work, trail maintenance, wildlife monitoring, and fire mitigation. Lots of telling people not to burn things. Smokey Bear would be proud.”
I glanced up and found him watching me. “Sounds thrilling.”
“Oh, it is. Nothing quite like spending six hours marking hazard trees in the rain. It’s all very glamorous with mud and the constant threat of being taken out by a branch with attitude.”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it, breaking through the careful guard I’d been maintaining since sitting down. When was the last time I hadn't had to force a laugh?
I pressed my lips together, trying to stay composed, but the damage was done. The single moment of amusement had shifted something between us.
I looked back down at the menu, suddenly aware that getting caught up in a man was not a path I wanted to go down again. “Do you hike a lot? Outside of work, I mean.”
“Yeah. The terrain around here gets pretty remote once you’re off the main trails, and it’s peaceful.” He paused, and when I glanced up again, his gaze was steady on mine. “Did you do much hiking before last week?”
“Some,” I said carefully. “Nothing too serious. I did a lot of camping in my teens and early twenties.”
Again, he didn’t push. Didn’t ask for clarification or details. The lack of interrogation left me feeling strangely exposed, like he didn’t need the rest to understand.
After the server took our orders, Lucan leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the empty chair next to him in an annoyingly attractive way.
“What kind of construction were you managing?”
The question caught me off guard. I’d mentioned it to Beck, but I hadn’t expected that Lucan had heard me or would care enough to ask.
“Property restoration mostly,” I said after a beat. “Older homes, some commercial buildings. We’d handle everything from structural repairs to finish work.”
“We?”
“Ex-business partner.”
Something shifted in his expression, a flicker of understanding, but again, he didn’t pry. “Bet that kept you busy.”
I took a sip of water from the glass the server had dropped off earlier. “It was non-stop. Permits, schedules, materials, payroll. Someone always needed something.”
The conversation drifted after that, settling into something easier. He asked about the RV, whether I’d figured out the quirks of the awning yet. I asked about Ashford, what there was to do besides throw axes and eat breakfast at Stacks. He mentioned a farmers’ market on Saturdays and the lake, which always had something going on.
It should have felt like a surface-level getting-to-know-you conversation, but there was an undercurrent of tension beneath it that I couldn’t explain. He was watching me too closely, but not in a creepy way. He had his full attention on me, and every time I shifted or hesitated, he stilled. It was like he was zeroing in, preparing for action if needed.
I was unsettled by the realization that Lucan’s complete focus on me felt alien. Even Scott had never given me this level of attention. Not when we had first dated, not when we were engaged, not when we’d planned our next business moves.
I’d convinced myself it was normal to be half-heard and half-seen. What did it say about my life that genuine interest felt like an anomaly?
“Are you okay?” His voice cut through my thoughts.
I blinked. “I’m fine.” The words came out too fast, edged with defensiveness.
