He laughed softly.
And there it was again. That old rhythm. Easy. Sharp and familiar enough to hurt.
Johanna grabbed a coat and a small clutch from the entry table before turning toward him. “So where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Her expression flattened. “I hate surprises.”
“You used to love surprises.”
“I also used to wear blue glitter eyeshadow.” She shrugged elegantly. “Growth happens.”
Blaze stepped closer before he could stop himself. Not enough to touch her. Enough to feel the shift in the air between them. “You’re still bossy.”
“And you’re still annoying.”
“But you’re still coming with me.” It wasn’t a question.
Johanna paused. Then lifted her chin with all that Bennett pride he remembered so well.
“One date.”
“One date,” he agreed quietly.
But as Blaze followed her toward the door, one thing settledinto his chest with absolute certainty.
One date was never going to be enough.
* * *
Johanna made it all the way to Blaze’s truck before realizing everyone on Main Street was watching them.
Not openly.
People in Sheraton Beach had perfected the art of respectable nosiness generations ago. Nobody stared directly. They simply found suspiciously convenient reasons to linger nearby.
A woman outside the bookstore adjusted the same display of candles three separate times.
Two older men near a comic bookstore swept an already-clean sidewalk while tracking Blaze’s every move.
Someone inside the diner on the corner nearly pressed their entire face against the glass.
Miss Adele stood outside her antique shop fussing dramatically with a pair of winter planters overflowing with ornamental cabbage and weather-worn pansies that appeared one frost away from giving up entirely.
Johanna narrowed her eyes.
Miss Adele smiled with saintly innocence. “Have a beautiful evening, baby.”
Johanna forced a polite smile even though embarrassment already crawled up her neck. “Thank you, Miss Adele.”
Blaze opened the passenger-side door for her then, and somehow that irritated her too.
Not because the gesture lacked charm, but because he did it naturally. Effortlessly.
Like opening doors for her still lived somewhere deep in his muscle memory. Like years hadn’t passed. Like he hadn’t shattered her heart and disappeared long enough for her tofinally convince herself she’d healed.
Johanna gathered the hem of her dress carefully and climbed into the truck.
