She hadn’t touched her food. Not a single bite, and the moment she spotted me, her legs started swinging under the table like she’d been waiting for me the whole time.
“I like your shoes,” she announced, her grin wide and infectious.
I glanced down at my brown leather flip-flops and made a face. “You do?”
She nodded solemnly, nose scrunching as she took a dramatic sip of orange juice through her straw. “You think I can borrow dem sometime?”
And just like that, the world settled again.
Twenty
The cabin felt quieterafter the chaos of breakfast. I sat on one of the barstools in the kitchenette, chin propped in my hand, watching Dean work at the coffee table. He was busy pulling out files from his briefcase, movements precise and steady as he leafed through papers I couldn’t see.
For a while, I stayed quiet, content just to observe him—completely absorbed in what he was doing. But curiosity had a way of needling under my skin until I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Who were those men you were talking to earlier?” I asked, my voice softer than I meant it to be.
Dean’s hand stilled on the folder. His eyes lifted to mine across the room, but he didn’t answer right away—as though he were thinking through his answer before he spoke. “Men my grandfather has business with,” he said finally.
I frowned.
His tone stayed easy enough, but his attention was far off and distant. He shut the folder and slipped it back into his briefcase with a little too much care.
“I’ll be gone for a few hours,” he said. “There’s a pool and jacuzzi a couple cabins down, hiking trails that way, or you can just?—”
A sharp knock cut him off.
Dean straightened immediately. Something flickered across his face—gone almost as soon as it appeared.
He crossed the room and opened the door to reveal Trisha on the front step. Sunlight caught in her red hair and instantly made me think of a warning flair.
“Hi, Dean,” she said. “I’m here to get Vivienne. Is she around?”
Even as she asked, she leaned forward, trying to peer past him into the cabin.
Dean braced a hand against the doorframe and shifted subtly, blocking her view. For a heartbeat, I caught a flicker of unease in his profile.
“The women put together a little surprise for Viv,” Trisha added, her tone bright. “We’ll only borrow her for a few hours.”
She stepped inside before he could stop her, and her gaze landed immediately on me at the counter.
My stomach dipped.
A surprise?
I hated surprises.
Reluctantly, I slid off the stool, my eyes finding Dean’s without meaning to. I lingered there, searching his face for a signal—anything to tell me if I should stay or go.
He didn’t stop me.
His gaze held mine for a beat too long, before he gave a small nod.
Reassurance or warning, I couldn’t be sure.
Outside, Trisha slipped her arm through mine as though it was the most natural thing in the world, steering me down a gravel path that curved away from the cabins. The afternoon wasbright but cool, sunlight filtering through the trees in uneven patches. Our footsteps crunched softly beneath our feet, the sound filling the spaces where conversation hadn’t quite found its footing yet.
We walked in silence for a moment. Then another.
