“She’s growing on me.”
“She has that effect.”
Clarabelle growled to life with her usual dramatic flair, and Ben gave her a wary side-eye like he was still waiting for the engine to wheeze its last breath. I patted the dashboard with affection and adjusted the mirrors with a grin.
“She’s moody, but she gets the job done.”
“She sounds like she has bronchitis.”
“Do not speak ill of Clarabelle before coffee number two,” I warned, pulling onto the gravel road that curved behind the lodge. “She’s sensitive.”
Ben shook his head and sipped from his travel mug. “So is her driver.”
“Iheardthat.”
“I meant it with love.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Did you just admit you love me?”
“I said thecoffeewas loved. Don’t get reckless.”
The truck rattled slightly as we turned onto a county road. The sun was just beginning to spill soft pinks and oranges across the treetops, the forest waking up around us.
It was perfect.
Quiet.
Almost sacred.
And suddenly, all that energy bubbling in my chest... settled.
I glanced over at him again.
Still sipping.
Still watching me like he didn’t understand how this happened—us—but wasn’t quite ready to stop it either.
Maybe neither of us was.
The banter was effortless now, this warm back-and-forth that curled in the cab like steam from his coffee. And every time he shot one of those sideways glances at me, half amused, half unreadable, I felt something tighten low in my stomach. Like the night before was still echoing between us.
I wanted to kiss him again.
That realization hit like a spark from the gear shift, but I focused on the road. Light spilled through the windshield, catching the edges of Ben’s jaw, his beard trimmed. His profile,stoic and quiet, made my breath catch for reasons I didn’t want to admit yet.
“So,” he said finally, voice low and gravelly in the stillness, “you gonna tell me where we’re going?”
“Nope.”
“Still playing the mystery card, huh?”
“I’m full of secrets,” I said, flashing him a grin. “Try to keep up.”
His eyes met mine for a beat, and his smirk turned slow and dangerous. “Oh, I plan to.”
And just like that, the air in the truck got a little thicker.
He turned back toward the windshield, like he hadn’t just lit me on fire with a sentence. Like he didn’t know he was steadily unraveling me with every look, every word.
