I knew whyIlived that way, but why did he?
My lips parted. “I?—”
A bell chimed somewhere in the distance, and I blinked, pulled out of the moment in a flash. “What was that?”
He hesitated—just long enough for my pulse to trip over itself. His gaze moved over my face, like he was deciding something about me at that moment.
“Breakfast,” he said quietly.
Still, neither of us moved.
Not until George barked—sharp and insistent—snapping the invisible thread that had been holding us together.
“We should go,” Dean said then, voice steadier this time. “Everyone will be expecting us.”
He finally turned away, tearing his gaze from mine and dragging a hand through his hair like he needed a moment to steady himself.
I wasn’t sure why I felt so rattled, but I did. Then I realized, it was because against my better judgment, I wanted Dean to trust me. And my panic at the brief moment when he hadn’t—scared the hell out of me.
Nineteen
It feltlike everyone from the night before had shown up to breakfast… maybe more. Kids darted between tables, shrieking with giggles and weaving between legs, like this job had been wired into their DNA.
The air smelled of sausage and maple syrup, and the sound of clattering plates overlapped with at least a dozen different conversations, which blended together as one.
Dean and I stepped into the room and immediately got into line at the buffet. I was nervous this morning. Maybe more nervous than I had been the night before.
A woman with long dark hair stood in front of us, and I recognized her right away—long dark hair, high cheekbones, tall and effortlessly athletic. Dean’s aunt, who reminded me of a fifty-year-old version of Blair.
I reached for a plate, half-listening as Dean and his aunt slipped into an easy conversation beside me.
“I saw you running the trail this morning,” she said, handing him a napkin. “You training for something?”
“Nope.”
“Then why on earth are you running on vacation so early in the morning?” she laughed.
Dean took a breath and shrugged. “I woke up—” he cleared his throat, almost like he hadn’t meant to say anything at all, “—and couldn’t go back to sleep.”
His eyes lifted—and found mine.
Just for a second. Long enough for heat to bloom low in my stomach.
Had he seen me this morning? With my ass in the air, hair a mess, completely oblivious to my surroundings? And then, what? Gone running?
Something shifted in his expression. The barest curve of his mouth. Not a smile—worse.
I turned away too quickly, my face warming as I stared down into my plate, suddenly hyper aware of my body, my breath, the way the air between us still felt charged despite the room full of people.
Thankfully, the line shuffled forward just then, giving me an excuse to put space between us. I focused on grabbing my breakfast—sausage, hash browns, and a generous stack of pancakes—like food was my only safety net.
That’s when a group of men entered the lodge, drawing my attention to a side door.
They wore business suits and polished shoes instead of summer clothes and hiking boots.
I glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to react—to direct them toward another resort, but no one seemed to notice them other than me.
Then I spotted Mason up ahead. His posture tight as he lifted his chin to Dean, as though trying to grab his attention.
