“I figured.”
He turned enough to look toward the south fence. For a second, I thought he would say no. I thought he would shut the moment down because he was responsible, and I was under his supervision, and wanting him was already making a mess of my common sense.
Then Zane looked back at me.
“If you want to see it, I can walk you down.”
My pulse kicked.
He lifted one hand before I could answer. “But listen to me first.”
I went still.
“Your hours are signed. Today’s work is done. Whether you come with me or leave right now doesn’t change your sheet,your next shift, or anything I report to Nadine.” His voice stayed steady, but there was a raw edge under it. “I’m asking as me, not as your site supervisor. If you say no, I’ll lock up, you’ll go home, and I’ll see you tomorrow like usual.”
My throat went tight again.
My fingers tightened around the strap of my tote. He’d left the choice in my hands, and I wanted to put those hands straight on him.
“I want to see it,” I said.
His eyes held mine. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” My voice came out soft, but it didn’t shake. “I’m sure.”
Zane nodded once, then reached past me for his keys on the hook by the door. His arm came close enough that I felt the brush of air from his movement.
It wasn’t a touch, and it was still enough.
He locked the shed, then the gate, and we walked along the south fence toward a narrow opening I hadn’t noticed before. The path beyond it slipped between pines and down a gentle slope through Zane’s land. Dry needles softened the ground under our shoes. The air changed as soon as we left the P-Patch behind, cooling by degrees beneath the trees. Sap scented the shade. Grasshoppers clicked in the scrub. Somewhere ahead, water slapped softly against rock.
Zane walked beside me, not touching, his keys tucked into one pocket and his hands loose at his sides like he was making himself keep them there.
I noticed that too, because restraint had become my newest bad subject.
“How often do you come down here?” I asked.
“Most days.”
“To swim?”
“To check things. Clear brush. Make sure nobody’s torn up the access road. Sometimes to swim.”
“Very practical.”
“Sometimes I just sit.”
I glanced at him.
He looked straight ahead, sunlight cutting in broken pieces over his face through the pine branches, and his voice had gone quieter than I expected.
I didn’t tease him for it.
“Sounds nice,” I said.
“It is.”
The path opened.
