Page 62 of Trust

I hold up my hands in mock surrender. “Scout’s honor.”

Stix rolls his eyes and shakes his head, tending to the stove again.

A few minutes later, Sara pads into the room, hair wet, eyes wide awake. She’s wearing that same hoodie again, teddy-bear sketch and all. Cute.

Stix frowns. “Didn’t like the sweater I gave you?”

She tugs at one sleeve and wrinkles her nose. “Reeks of smoke.”

“Want one of mine instead?” I offer.

She tilts her head, amused. “Depends. Does yours smell better?”

I grin. “Infinitely,” I say, already heading outside. “Be right back.”

A wet chill wraps around me as soon as I open the door. My boots squelch in the mud as I sprint through the rain to my truck, wrench the passenger door open, and start digging through the duffel on the seat. I find a clean hoodie and slam the door shut again. I’m soaked by the time I make it back to the cabin.

When I enter, both of them stare at me in disbelief.

“You’re an idiot,” Stix says, sipping his coffee, barely hiding a laugh behind the rim of his mug.

I shrug, dripping water across the floor as I hold the hoodie out to her. She takes it with a smile cutting through all this gray and disappears out of the room. A few heartbeats later, she’s back.

And it hits me. Hard.

The hoodie hangs off her in all the wrong ways that somehow make it perfect. The sleeves swallow her hands, the hem skims her thighs, pulling every thought out of me. She wears it better than I ever did, and for a second, it’s easy to imagine she’s mine. Just like that, my whole damn universe shifts.

Now I know the real reason Stix started that sweater thing. She’s just a job, my ass.

“Comfy,” she says, settling into her seat.

“Looks good on you,” I blurt out.

For some reason it earns me another one of Stix’s glares. What did I do now?

Sara smirks but doesn’t comment.

We eat. It’s the kind of meal that feels complete without words. I think I could grow used to this.

Stix finishes first and reclines in his chair.

“I’ve got some errands to run today,” he says, his tone casual. “You need anything from the store?”

“You’re going shopping? Can I join you?”

Bold move.

Stix gives her a deadpan stare.

“Okay, it was worth a try.” She raises her hands briefly, palms up, a hint of humor in her eyes. “No, I‘m good.”

Nothing? Didn’t see that coming.

“You good with training with Cash while I’m out?”

She freezes, her grip tightening around the fork. Her gaze flicks to me, then back to Stix. A brief pause follows as she considers it.

“What type of training?” she asks carefully.