“Oh, is it?”
“You're here, aren't you?” I gestured between us. “Sitting on a blanket with a rescue puppy, teaching a clueless farmer how not to poison herself with lye. Seems veryinefficientto me.”
“That's not because I ran away.” He held my gaze. “It's because of you.”
The air shifted between us. My heart did something complicated in my chest.
“I don't usually do this.” Cal's voice had gone rough. “Sit around on blankets. Talk about my parents. But you make it...” He paused, his gaze lifting up to meet mine. “Easier.”
The confession hung between us, raw and unfinished.
Heat crept up my throat. I opened my mouth, closed it, tried again. “I—that's?—”
“Don't make it weird.”
“You made it weird!” I gestured wildly, nearly knocking over the empty muffin tin. “You can't just say things like that and expect me to be normal about it!”
His mouth quirked. “You're never normal.”
“Rude.” But I couldn't stop smiling, warmth blooming in my chest. “For the record, you make things less awful, too.”
Pudding's head popped up, disturbed by my flailing. He blinked at us with sleepy confusion, then stood on wobbly legs and padded across the blanket.
Straight to me.
He circled once, twice, then plopped down with his tiny head resting on my thigh.
I froze.
Cal's eyes widened slightly—the most shocked I'd ever seen him.
I looked down at Pudding, then back at Cal, my mouth falling open.Look. Look at this. Are you seeing this?
Cal's expression softened into something that made my chest squeeze. A real smile, slow and genuine, transforming his entire face.
“Don't move,” he whispered.
“Wasn't planning on it.” I barely breathed the words, afraid any movement would shatter the moment.
Pudding's ear twitched against my leg. His breathing evened out again, trusting and warm.
Cal watched us both, that smile still there, and something inside me shifted.
This man—grumpy, exhausted, terrible at saying no—had spent his evening rushing over to save me from lye burns. Had fixed my irrigation system at dawn. Had given me flowers at the farmers market because he didn't know how else to say thank you.
And now he sat on my blanket, looking at me like I'd done something wonderful instead of just existing in the same space as a sleepy puppy.
I couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at me like that.
“What?” Cal's brow furrowed slightly.
“Nothing.” I shook my head, careful not to disturb Pudding.
I looked down at Pudding, willing my brain to focus on the soft weight of him against my leg. How his little ribs rose and fell. How his floppy ear twitched.
It didn't work.
Because Cal was still smiling. That rare smile that rearranged his whole face into something dangerous. And my stomach was doing things stomachs had absolutely no business doing when you werejust friendswith someone.
