His voice says one thing, but his body says another.
And right now? I don’t know which one I believe.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rowan
“Hey, hey, just doing room checks!” Chad’s standing in the doorway, beaming with forced enthusiasm. “We missed you two at the canoes, but no worries, you’re right on time for the next event.”
Chad doesn’t seem to notice the tension boiling behind me.
“It’s time for the partner scavenger hunt! Legal themed. Romantically empowering.” He actually winks, and I resist the urge to slam the door in his face.
“What kind of scavenger hunt?” I manage, voice flat.
“Oh, nothing too complicated,” he says, rocking forward on his heels. “You’ll get a list of clues, some legal trivia, some teamwork prompts, and a few physical tasks. ThinkThe Amazing Racewith tort reform.”
Behind me, Tessa exhales slowly. I hear it. I feel it. She steps up beside me, close enough that the air changes.
“Do we get a prize?” she asks, arms crossed. Her tone is sharp, but there’s a flush on her neck.
She’s not as unaffected as she wants me to believe.
Good.
Chad lights up. “Oh, definitely! Bragging rights. And a very exclusive dinner with the senior partners tonight. Just the two of you and them. Fancy table. Private terrace.”
Of course.
A firm test disguised as a date. Perfect.
Chad gives a double thumbs-up and leaves, shouting at another couple down the hall. “Five minutes! Phones fully charged!”
I close the door.
Silence.
No breathing.
Just tension that doesn’t go anywhere.
* * *
By the time we reach the trail entrance, most of the other couples have already gathered, buzzing with fake energy and performance smiles that make my teeth hurt. A clipboard station has been set up under a white canopy tent because, apparently, even our scavenger hunts need laminated instructions—this is Hale & Brooks, after all, where spontaneity goes to die a well-documented death.
Tessa stops just short of the tent and makes a small, strangled noise in her throat that I absolutely do not find endearing.
“This looks like the worst group date in history,” she mutters, and her disgust is so genuine I almost smile.
I glance around at Camden with his partner—some shiny associate with bleached teeth, who’s posing for a selfie beside a sign that reads,Where Justice Meets the Trailhead.
“Look alive, power couples!” Chad announces, passing out lists with the enthusiasm of someone who’s never experienced actual human emotion. “Remember, each clue ties to a legalconcept, a firm value, or a historical precedent. Use your knowledge. Use your communication skills. Use your hearts!”
Tessa turns to me with a deadpan stare. “If we use my heart, we’re all going to jail.”
I don’t smile—not really, just the edge of it, enough to watch her eyes narrow because she knows I’m enjoying her irritation more than I should.
Chad hands us our list with a wink that makes me reconsider my position on justifiable homicide. “Go slow, be safe, and remember, there’s no wrong way to bond!”
