Carter looked at me and said we needed to talk.
I don't regret it. What happened between us felt like something that was inevitable. Like it had been decided for a while and we just finally caught up to it.
What I don't know is what it meant to him.
He walked out of that office like nothing had happened, enough distance between us that no one in the lobby wouldhave guessed. He led me to his car and motioned me in without words. Now we've been driving for ten minutes without a word and I'm sitting here on the warm leather of his passenger seat, not regretful, just unsure. Very unsure.
His hand comes off the wheel and settles on my thigh.
He doesn't look at me. Doesn't say anything for a moment.
"We're almost there. Doesn't look like much, but the coffee's good." A pause. "Then we can talk."
I nod. Try for a smile. I can feel how strained it is.
He keeps his hand there for a moment, then puts it back on the wheel.
I look at his forearm. Muscled. The way his grip shifts on the leather. I think about those arms around me just minutes ago and I feel it low in my stomach. The pull coming back already, so I press my knees together and look at the hills.
The old airstream is parked in a gravel pull-off with a hand-painted sign listing breakfast options. There are three tables outside. A generator hums somewhere behind it. The warmth coming off it is specific, not sun-warm but engine-warm, that particular heat that smells faintly of metal.
We order coffee. The woman at the window hands them through without ceremony.
Carter looks at the tables. Looks at the trail opening near the back of the gravel. "Sit or walk?"
"Walk," I say.
We take the trail side by side, gravel under our feet, the valley dropping away on the left. The hills are bright and golden in the morning light.
The silence here is different than it was in the car. It has more texture.
We walk for a while. Then Carter changes his coffee into his left hand, reaches over and takes mine.
He still doesn't say anything. Just holds it. After a second he squeezes, once, like he's testing whether it's real.
I look down at our hands. I look back up at the trail.
I can't stop the smile. This has to mean something, right?
We reach an overlook that has three benches facing the valley. Nobody else is here. We sit on the nearest one and I wrap both hands around my cup. It is genuinely beautiful, the hills rolling brown and gold in the distance.
Carter takes a sip of his coffee. He's looking at the valley. I look at his profile. The line of his jaw, the slight furrow in his brow that might be concentration or might be something else.
"Truth is important to me," he says. "So it means a lot that you came and told me directly what happened." He pauses, looks at me and I can see his eyes narrowing in a warning. "I don't like that you put yourself in danger. We'll talk about that later." He says it evenly.
I’m about to start to defend myself but he raises one hand, wanting me to wait.
"But I also need to tell you the truth." He looks back at the valley. "I already knew. Adrian called me this morning."
I’m surprised by what he is saying. "Adrian called you? Why?"
"He wanted to make sure I had the facts straight. And to threaten me if I fired you because of it." Carter scoffs with these last words.
The fact that Adrian would worry enough about me to do this is a little shocking. The last time we spoke, it was clear that Adrian was intent on putting some distance between us.
"What did Adrian tell you?" I ask.
Carter shrugs, "Just what you told me". He tilts his head, finds my eyes. "Why, Sienna. What else happened?"
