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“Know?” She looked down at the fish. “I’ll take them–” she bit out, reattached the first fish, and grabbed the line.

“I’ll do it.” Lachlan grabbed the line at the same time.

Tarley tugged.

Lachlan tugged back. “Let it go.”

“You let it go.”

“I said I’d do it.” He leaned toward her.

“But you didn’t. And now I have to fix it.” Tarley leaned closer.

“I can clean my own messes,” he said, and his eyes jumped to her lips as his heart thrashed in his chest.

Her eyes flitted to his mouth before she leaned back as if pushed, releasing her hold. “Fine,” she said and stormed away.

“What is wrong?” he called after, even more confused. Sure, he’d messed up with the fish, but her anger felt like the bonfire she’d made, way bigger than it needed to be. He hadn’t imagined that she’d thought about kissing him, as he had her. Right?

She disappeared into the brush—probably to look for skewers to cook the fish—ignoring his question.

Lachlan didn’t appreciate being ignored. In fact, he couldn’t remember a time in his life where that had ever been the case. Even his father acknowledged him. Frustrated, he left the fish and stalked after her, following a narrow path from the campsite until he found her hacking at some twigs, still in range of the bonfire’s light.

“What’s wrong?”

She whirled and let out a frustrated groan, rolling her eyes before turning back to the twig.

“What have I done?” Lachlan realized her answer mattered more than it should. He tried to tell himself that she was no one to him, and yet he knew it to be a lie. That might have been true a week ago, but now it wasn’t. She’d saved his life. She’d kept him alive since. She’d provided for him when he wouldn’t have been able to provide for himself. They’d laughed together, cuddled. There was so much more between them, even if it was undefined. “Is it because of the rocks? The fish?”

“No.”

Hack.

“But it’s something?”

“No!”

Whack. The twig came loose, and she started on another.

“How am I supposed to apologize if I don’t know what I’ve done?”

“Is that what you plan to do? Apologize?” She hit another branch, and it detached on the first swing of her giant knife.

Lachlan took a step back to stay clear of her knife wielding. Apologize? He wouldn’t have normally. He’d never felt the need to apologize for anything. He hadn’t even apologized to Princess Truisante. But being with Tarley as Ollie had done something to him, even if he wasn’t exactly sure what it was. He just felt… different. “If I’ve done something wrong, yes.”

She harrumphed a sound through her nose and hit another branch, knocking it loose. Then she turned and marched past him.

Lachlan wanted to grab her and order her to talk to him, but he knew that wouldn’t go over well, so he turned and followed. “I’m sorry for throwing rocks. But I caught the fish. That should be a good concession.”

She whirled on him. “Would you just stop! Stop. You’re driving me to distraction. It’s infuriating!” She poked her temple. “I try to get away from you and I can’t.”

Lachlan’s heart slowed and stumbled in his chest. He took a step away from her.

She blinked and stepped toward him. “I didn’t–”

“That was pretty clear,” he said. She didn’t want him around. She wanted him away. Like his father.

“No. I mean. I just need some space. I can’t–” But she stopped.