Page 146 of Worth the Trip

“Mine wasn’t on your mouth.”

“You’re committed to making dessert inappropriate.”

“Hershey, you sitting in my cabin, wearing my shirt, with your legs out. Cheesecake ain’t responsible for where my mind went.”

I looked down at the shirt. “Your clothing damaged your judgment.”

“My judgment excellent.”

“Your restraint?”

“Under review.”

I laughed again, then the moment settled around us. Rain moved softly against the windows. Landon finished his cheesecake. I finished mine. My hand drifted toward the pendant and stopped.

His eyes caught the movement.

He didn’t ask.

That was what made me speak.

“What do you want to know?”

Landon set his plate aside. “Whatever you want me to.”

“That’s evasive.”

“That’s respectful.”

“You don’t have questions?”

“Plenty.” He turned toward me. “But I’m not prying you open because I’m curious, Hershey. Tell me what you want me to know.”

My fingers closed around the pendant as I looked at him. “I’m good at being needed. I know how to help. I know what needs fixing before most people ask. I know when Nyla needs me to step in and when she needs me to stay out of her way. I know how to make myself useful.”

Landon said nothing, so I continued.

“I’m not always as good at letting somebody see me when I’m tired. Or when I don’t know what to do. Sometimes, being dependable becomes the easiest version of me to offer people because, if I’m useful, I understand my place.”

His hand covered mine without moving it from the pendant.

I took a breath. “And letting somebody care about me when I haven’t done anything to earn it still feels strange.”

That was enough. I didn’t need to explain every scar beneath the sentence. Landon understood it.

His fingers tightened gently around mine. “Thank you for telling me.”

I looked at him. “That’s it?”

“You want a lecture?”

“No.”

“Good. ’Cause you already know how I feel about you.” Something in my chest eased. Then Landon looked down at our hands. “I understand more than you think. When Mama got sick, and Daddy lost his job, I started handling shit because somebody had to. Bills. Groceries. Lennox. Whatever came next. Nobody asked me to become everybody’s answer. I just had the salary and enough shoulders for folks to assume the weight fit.”

I leaned closer.

“I didn’t resent it. Still don’t. Those my people. But after a while, you get used to being valuable because you solve something.” His eyes came back to mine. “Sometimes, I wondered whether people wanted me or what came with me. The security.”