Her lips part, probably to deny it, but the words never come. Instead, she stares at me like she’s trying to figure out what the hell to do with me. Honestly? I’m wondering the same thing about her.
Later, after the laughter dies down and the guys have moved on to less Flint-focused topics, I find myself leaning against the bar, watching Juniper talk to Hudson. She’s animated, her hands gesturing as she explains something, her voice rising and falling like music. Hudson’s grinning, nodding along, but it’s obvious he’s just soaking up her energy.
“She’s good for you,” Ridge says, appearing at my side with a beer in hand.
I grunt, not bothering to deny it.
Liam chuckles, clinking his bottle against the edge of the bar. “You’ve been a lonely old man for too long, Flint. It’s about time someone came along and knocked you on your ass.”
“I’m not that old,” I grumble, though I know what he means.
“You’re old enough, brother,” he retorts, clapping me on the shoulder. “Don’t screw it up.”
Before I can respond, Juniper appears beside me, her eyes bright with amusement. “What are you two whispering about?”
“Nothing,” Ridge says innocently, raising his hands.
Juniper laughs, and I shake my head, exhaling a quiet sigh. “You’re all a pain in my ass.”
She leans closer, her voice teasing. “But you love us, anyway, Flint Warner.”
“Debatable.” I gripe but even as I say it I know she’s right.
Juniper’s laughter is soft and warm, wrapping around me like a blanket. And for the first time in a long time, I think maybe Ridge is right.
We leave The Devil’s Brew as the night settles over the mountain, the air cool and crisp. Juniper walks beside me, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets, her steps light.
“You survived the teasing,” she says, glancing up at me.
“Barely,” I mutter, though my lips twitch. “You didn’t make it any easier.”
Her grin is unapologetic. “You needed it.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t argue. The truth is, I haven’t laughed like that in years, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good.
As we approach my truck, she stops, her gaze shifting to the stars overhead. “You ever just... stop and look at them?”
I follow her gaze, the vast expanse of the night sky stretching out above us. “Not often.”
“Why not?”
“Too much else to focus on,” I admit, my tone quieter than usual.
She looks at me, her expression softening. “Maybe you should try it more often.”
Her words settle in my chest, a quiet echo that lingers long after we climb into the truck.
“Whaddya say to staying at my cabin tonight?”
“Oh–” she hums into the silence of my cab.
I place a hand on her thigh, squeezing once. She licks her lips, eyes trained on my profile. “That sounds…nice.”
“Good,” I send her a sideways smile. I steal glances at her the entire drive to my cabin, wondering how the hell she managed to sneak past all my defenses.
By the time we pull into the driveway, the silence between us feels heavy with something unspoken. I kill the engine, but neither of us moves to get out.
“Thanks for tonight,” she says, her voice breaking the stillness.
