Page 148 of Tessa and Nash

Tessa.

She steps through the barn doors with nerves tearing through her. Structured coat, hair in that tight braid, posture so straight it looks painful. She scans the room once, eyes sharp, taking in faces.

She could be walking into a negotiation or a fight.

My chest tightens.

She catches my gaze across the room.

For a beat, she goes still.

Then she walks toward me.

Every eye in the barn follows her.

“You made it,” she says when she reaches me.

“You sound surprised,” I reply.

She lifts a brow. “You look like you’re regretting your entire existence.”

“That’s just my face,” I say.

“Liar.”

I snort. “Okay, yes. I hate this.”

Tessa’s gaze shifts past me to the crowd. “They’re watching.”

“I noticed,” I mutter.

Her mouth tightens, fighting a smile. “Hold it together.”

“I am holding it together.”

Tessa’s eyes flick back to mine, unimpressed. “Barely.”

A laugh catches in my throat. Damn, she’s good at this. Good at reading me. Good at slicing through whatever I’m trying to pretend.

She turns her head slightly, scanning the room again. “We need to look normal.”

I huff. “Normal is impossible for us.”

She glances at me. “Then fake it.”

I swallow. “Right.”

Tessa steps closer, her hand sliding into the crook of my arm.

My body reacts instantly.

Heat. Memory. The ghost of her mouth.

I stiffen for half a second, then force myself to relax.

We walk into the crowd together, and Buckhorn swallows us whole.

People stop us every three feet.