“Okay?” I repeat, thrown by how easily he says it.
“Yeah.” His smile returns, slow and sincere. “Then how about we call it friendship? At least for now.”
I want to say no. I want to tell him eventhatfeels too risky. But the warmth in his eyes—and the sound of our boys laughing down the trail—softens me.
“Friends,” I say finally, holding out my hand.
He takes it, his grip strong and gentle all at once. “Friends,” he echoes.
But as we walk out of the forest side by side, his fingers brushing mine now and then, I can’t help wondering who either of us is fooling.
Because the air between us still feels like kindling.
And I have a bad—or maybe wonderful—feeling that it’s only a matter of time before something sparks.
FOUR
VAN
When TJ asked this morning if he could see Huck again, I pretended to think about it for a full three seconds before saying yes.
The truth is, I’d already texted Lanie.
The boys seemed to hit it off yesterday—mind if we stop by after school?
Sure. Bring marshmallows. Huck’s been begging for s’mores
That’s how I know I’m in trouble—because I smiled at my phone like a teenager when her reply popped up almost immediately.
By the time we pull up to the patch, the sun’s hanging low and gold across the valley. Lanie’s standing by the picnic tables, hands tucked in her jacket pockets, hair catching the light like copper.
She looks tired—but in that strong, determined way that makes my chest feel weirdly tight.
“Evening, Chief,” she calls.
“Evening, ma’am.”
She rolls her eyes. “You trying to get on my bad side already?”
“Depends,” I say, cutting the engine. “Do you have a good one?”
She snorts, and just like that, the tension that’s been in my shoulders all day dissolves.
TJ’s already unbuckled, hauling his backpack out of the cab. “Huck invited me for a sleepover!”
“Sleepover?” I glance at Lanie.
She laughs. “Apparently they planned it without parental consent. I texted your ex to make sure you were okay with it. She said yes.”
Of course she did. “Guess that means I’m off duty tonight.”
“You sure you trust us with your kid?”
“With you?” I grin. “I trust you more than most people I’ve met in this town, and I’ve known you two days.”
That earns me a raised brow and maybe the hint of a blush.
The boys race off toward the barn, and we follow at a slower pace. Chase is there stacking wood for a bonfire, whistling under his breath. He grins when he sees us.
