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My pulse quickens involuntarily. “Yeah?”
She hesitates, her gaze dropping momentarily. “Thank you for everything. I know I’ve been a lot to handle.”
Gratitude and sadness mingle in her voice.
“Hey,” I say, turning fully toward her. “I know you’re Little Miss Disaster, but you’re not a lot to handle. It’s been fun. I think I needed this.”
A faint blush colors her cheeks, and she ducks her head shyly. “That’s some high praise, coming from Mr. Grumpy.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” I say, unable to hide the smile pulling at my lips.
I put cheesy scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast on plates for us. Harper grabs forks and napkins, and we sit at the small table together.
“More coffee?” she asks, and I nod.
Harper grabs the pot and fills both of our mugs.
The tension from the past few days has quickly been replaced by comfortable companionship. I watch her discreetly as she eats, noting the ease in her movements, the genuine smile she shares freely.
When we finish eating, she reaches to clear the dishes, but I stop her, my fingers wrapping lightly around her wrist.
“Let me take care of it.”
Our eyes lock, and the air thickens instantly. We’re actually closer than I realized, and her breath hitches. Harper’s gaze drops briefly to my mouth before meeting my gaze. My heart warns me to pull away, to maintain our distance, but I find myself frozen, completely under her spell.
Just as the air between us grows impossibly charged, Harper draws back, offering a shy, teasing smile that nearly undoes me completely.
“Careful, Calloway,” she warns, her voice teasing yet uncertain. “I don’t want to embarrass myself again.”
I clear my throat, forcing a smirk, remembering the time when she was eighteen and tried to kiss me, but I stopped her. Harper was embarrassed, and I told her not to be, but I could not cross that line with her.
This time, she steps away, leaving me staring after her, the space between us feeling emptier than before. I take a deep breath, steadying myself against the unfamiliar surge that rushes through me. It’s a spark, a flicker in the dark, and I can almost feel its heat.
No matter how much I fight it, she’s quickly slipping past my defenses, and I’m not sure I can stop it. Or if I want to.
As we finish cleaning up our breakfast mess, Harper stands by the sink, staring out the kitchen window, her eyes bright as she scans over the backyard. I brace myself, knowing that look like the back of my hand. It always means trouble, though I have to admit, it’s an expression of hers I’ve missed.
“Hey,” she says, spinning to face me. “Can we go outside and play?”
I burst into laughter, recognizing the restless energy radiating off of her. She crosses her arms in playful defiance.
“Come on. Fresh air, a little adventure—it’s exactly what we need,” she practically begs, and I can’t deny her.
On the way here, I stopped and got her a few plain T-shirts and leggings, along with a pair of off-brand tennis shoes. It’s nothing nice, considering it was a small general store, but at least she has something to wear that fits her.
“Fine. But if we see a bear, I’m tripping you first.” I exhale, giving in, but I was going to anyway.
Her eyes widen in mock outrage, but her laughter breaks through anyway. “Wow, thanks for having my back.”
“Always,” I tease lightly. “Get dressed, and we’ll go.”
It takes her less than two minutes, excitement in every step she takes. We move outside, the crisp air instantly waking my senses. Harper bounds, her footsteps light across the earth.
She throws a glance over her shoulder, grinning mischievously. “Are you coming or crawling?”
“I’m pacing myself,” I answer dryly, pretending annoyance. Truth is, I enjoy seeing her so carefree and joyful, like the weight of the last few days is momentarily forgotten.
We wander deeper into the woods, sunlight filtering through the branches, casting patterns of gold across the trail. Harper effortlessly skips over exposed tree roots and fallen branches, occasionally spinning around to taunt me.