“Yeah?”
“Tonight was really good.”
My chest tightened. “Yeah. It was.”
She gave me a small smile and disappeared inside.
The walk to my cabin should have helped, but my dragon was wide awake and had no interest in calming down.
Liz’s reason for coming to Ashford was worse than I’d expected. Someone she had trusted for years had betrayed her and left a hole in her spirit. He’d created a wound deeper than physical ones, the kind that changes how you see the world.
She’d spoken of it with detachment, but I caught the flicker of pain behind her eyes, like she was still trying to convince herself she’d moved past it.
She could have completely crumbled, but instead, she’d camped alone in the woods, taken a job on the spot, and faced down a dragon without flinching. That kind of resilience didn’t come naturally; it was forged. She’d picked herself up and carried on, and it made me admire her even more.
The man who put her in that position was lucky that I had no idea where he lived. I’d never considered myself vengeful, but seeing Liz hurt made me want to ensure its source understood exactly what he’d thrown away. I pushed the feeling down, knowing it wasn’t my battle to fight, but that didn’t stop the growl building low in my chest.
I made it to my cabin and pushed the door open. I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my shirt, dropping onto the couch. My shirt still smelled like her, and I brought it to my nose, inhaling her scent.
We’d spent over a decade thinking we would never find mates. When we hit our thirties, we still had some hope, but by the time the first of us turned forty, we came to terms with never finding our other half.
And then Liz had shown up, and my entire world had reordered itself around her.
I rubbed a hand over my face. I wanted to go back to her trailer and make sure she was safe. But she needed space to process everything that had happened, not wake up to a dragon hovering outside her window like an obsessed stalker.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I fished it out, glancing at the screen.
Liz: I’m blaming you for every sore muscle I have tomorrow.
Me: Worth it though.
Liz: The kayaking or the kiss?
I hadn’t been sure how she’d react to the kiss after she had time to sit with it, but this was a good sign. I typed back before I could overthink it.
Me: Yes.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Liz: Smooth.
Me: I have my moments.
Liz: Don’t let it go to your head.
I laughed out loud and went to press my shirt to my face again, caught myself, and tossed it onto the chair across the room like a man with dignity.
Me: Are you borrowing Reese’s truck tomorrow? Hopefully, your car will be done in the afternoon.
Liz: Yes.
I shifted on the couch. Texting back and forth about borrowed trucks and car repairs when what I wanted was to walk through those trees, knock on her door, and taste that smile she’d given me before disappearing inside? That was its own special kind of torture.
My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. What did people even say at this point? How was someone supposed to make casual conversation when they didn’t want to scare someone off but also wanted to keep moving forward?
Me: When can I see you again?
Liz: I work until eight tomorrow…
