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They were quiet for a moment. Blair turned to adjust some of the jars on the display table, his eyebrows knit.

Iris bit her lip. So much remained unsaid between them, but now wasn’t really the time to address any of it. “How have sales been so far?”

Blair’s expression lifted. “Not bad.”

“I knew you could do it.”

He smiled, a slow, tentative movement that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Through the three-inch gap at the bottom of the tent, Iris could see two pairs of boots pause as if their owners were wondering if they were allowed to take a look inside. Iris wished Blair had a closed sign they could put up, just until she could be sure April had moved on with her day and it was safe to resume operations.

“Listen, Blair,” Iris said, as he continued to avoid her eyes. “I’m really sorry about the other night.” Even in the dim light, she could see the flush on his skin, making the white scars that ran like rivulets down his cheeks stand out more than usual. “I didn’t mean to rush you or make you do something you were uncomfortable with.”

Iris experienced a hot surge of shame whenever she thought about how forward she had been on New Year’s Eve. At first, she’d interpreted Blair’s awkwardness over the handful of days that had passed since then as just normal nerves, maybe from his lack of experience or from being uncertain about what was supposed to happen next. But the more she considered it, the more Iris worried that she had pushed him too far. Maybe Blair hadn’t wanted to kiss her at all and had been too afraid to say no.

The possibility made her feel gross, as if she’d taken advantage of him like some kind of unwitting predator.

There she was, fretting over how she was going to break it to Gabriel that she and Blair were together now, when she hadn’t even stopped to ask Blair how he felt about what had happened between them. What was the matter with her?

“You didn’t,” Blair assured her. “I wanted…” He swallowed as Iris took a step closer, trying to read his expression in the dark. “I wanted it, too.”

Iris was certain her relief must have shown on her face. She reached for Blair’s hand, her fingers trailing over the scars that had already grown so familiar to her. “Really?” She searched his eyes, unable to stop herself from closing the distance between them.

A realization hit her then. Audrey had been wrong when she’d compared Iris’ feelings for Blair with her connection to Trevor. She may have spent a year by Trevor’s side, but she had never felt a pull as strong as this. As she stared up into those gray eyes, pale as mist drifting over the sea, she realized with a thrill of panic that she could no longer turn back. She was a captain out on open waves, lured in by the voice of a siren, swept up into a storm, and she wouldn’t—couldn’t—turn away, even if it pulled her under.

“Iris…” A flicker of pain crossed Blair’s features. “Please don’t.”

And just like that, the spell snapped. Iris stepped away, her hand slipping out of his as though stung. “I’m sorry.” She fought the humiliated tears that bit at her eyes, working to keep her face impassive.

“It’s not your fault,” Blair promised, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glared at the snow-speckled ground. “I just need to figure out how to⁠—”

But exactly what he had to figure out, Iris never knew, because at that moment a bright stream of sunlight entered the tent as a curious customer pulled back the flap to peek inside. Her lips trembling from the effort not to cry, Iris told Blair she would see him at home and trudged out of the tent.

“Iris, wait.”

She turned back around to find him holding out an envelope.

“My rent, as promised.”

She opened the envelope. It was stuffed with bills. “Blair⁠—”

“I know, it’s about time.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “Anyway, I’d better get back.”

Stomach still flipping unpleasantly, Iris slid the envelope into her coat pocket and headed back toward Main Street.

When she arrived home fifteen minutes later, she noticed a lone figure seated in a lawn chair on the sun-drenched deck, staring out over the mountains. Iris took her time brewing some tea before sliding open the back door. She settled cross legged on the weather-beaten floor facing Gabriel, reaching over to hand him a cup of tea. Too late she realized that there was already one perched precariously on his plastic armrest.

“Thank you.” He offered her a small smile. “Mine’s gone cold.”

For a while, they sat in silence, sipping their tea while the soft wind tousled their hair and winter sunlight bathed them in its subtle warmth.

The words Iris was going to say—her admission about what had started between her and Blair—died in her throat as she thought back to Blair’s reaction earlier that morning. She rested her head against the railing, trailing her finger idly over the rim of her mug.

Luckily, there were plenty of other things to discuss.

“I wish you would tell me more about your life before we met,” Iris admitted. “You must have seen so much.” She bit her nail, noting his guarded expression. “You don’t have to tell me everything right away. Maybe just one thing at a time.”

Gabriel nodded slowly, taking another sip. A bid for time, she thought. “Alright.” He seemed to cast around in his mind for an appropriate confession. “I had a brother,” he said at last.