“Silas,” he murmured, an undeniable rasp of desire in his voice.
He cupped my face and leaned in just as the doors opened with a ding, and a whole group of people stood chattering right outside the doors.
Just like that, the tension broke. I sucked in a breath of air, wondering what the hell had gotten into me. This wasn’t who I was. I didn’t swoon for handsome men. I made them swoon for me.
I pulled away and stepped outside, back into Wedding Planner Silas mode. Bryson followed, quietly. He didn’t push. Didn’t demand that I admit I wanted him to kiss me. He let me go.
I wasn’t sure which was worse.
CHAPTER 12
Bryson
I collapsedinto a hammock I’d strung between two posts in the new camping display. I’d spent the past two hours setting up a camping scene complete with tent, cooler, grill, chairs, posed mannequins sporting outdoor gear and backpacks, and hanging lanterns.
“Sleeping on the job?” Branson asked from the counter where he was working on business paperwork that would give me hives to even contemplate.
I flailed out an arm. “I have built a kingdom. Now, I must rest.”
He chuckled. “It looks great, Bry. This place is starting to look like a real store.”
“A half-empty store,” I grumbled.
We were still lacking some essential inventory, but I had to admit, my campsite looked damn good.
“We’ll get there,” Branson said.
I rolled my head toward him. “Someone has found hisinner peace. Aren’t you usually the one stressing the fuck out?”
He grinned and shrugged. “I’ve got too much wedding on the brain. I’ll find space for worrying about the store later, when I’m trying to sleep.”
I frowned. He looked a little worn.
“Let me cover the worry here,” I said. “You’ve got enough on your plate.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to set up a new business while getting married.”
I smiled sympathetically. “You wanted to start your new life. Besides, you’ve got me.” I rolled out of the hammock. “Come try this out, Bran. Take a power nap.”
He chuckled. “Not necessary.”
“Get your ass in the hammock,” I said. “Before I put you there.”
I started toward the check-out counter, and he backed away. “All right, no need for violence. I’ll try it out.”
“Good. I’ll wake you at quittin’ time.”
Branson lowered himself into the hammock, closed his eyes, and was almost instantly asleep. He really had needed the rest. Me, I was the opposite. I had too much time on my hands.
Too much time to think about Silas and how damn close I’d come to kissing him in that elevator.
Too much time to wonder if he’d have pushed me away if I did. I didn’t think so, judging by the look in his eyes. But maybe I was projecting my own urges onto him. Maybe my ego needed to take a backseat.
I added each campsite display item into inventory—ensuring we’d be ready to sell the products on opening day. Ofcourse, I forgot to add the dang barcode at first, and so I had to backtrack and redo some of my work. By the time I finished, it was past closing time.
I went to wake Branson. He sat up so suddenly he nearly fell out of the hammock. I grabbed his shoulder.
“Whoa. You okay? Need me to drive you home?”
