Page 76 of Knot Your Sugar Rush (Starling Grove #2)

Chapter seventy-six

Cam

T he climb out of the valley is slower than I expect, not because of Jamie—though his limp is still there—but because we keep stopping.

Every time Theo spots something interesting in the undergrowth, he points it out.

Every time Dane catches me brushing hair out of my eyes, he uses it as an excuse to tilt my chin and kiss me quick.

It’s like none of us are quite ready to let the day end, even if the flowers are behind us now.

We move as a unit without even trying, Theo just ahead, Dane in the middle with the heavier pack, Jamie a step behind me.

When a narrow stretch of trail forces us to walk single file, Theo and Dane wordlessly shift their positions so Jamie never has to be last in line.

I see it for what it is—quiet care, no pity.

He notices, too. There’s a flicker in his eyes when he catches me looking, but he doesn’t say a word.

By the time the light starts softening toward gold, we find a clearing with a small rise and a fire pit ringed by old stones.

The moment we stop, Dane’s already setting his pack down and pulling out food.

Theo kneels by the pit and gets a flame going like he’s been waiting all day for an excuse to coax sparks from kindling.

The air smells of pine and distant water, but soon it’s layered with the rich scent of warming bread, the sharp tang of cheese unwrapped, and the faint, almost sweet aroma of tea leaves steeping in a battered kettle Dane insists he carry “for morale.”

I tuck myself onto a log beside Jamie, his thigh warm against mine even through our clothes. Dane passes him a plate first without a second thought, then hands one to me. Theo returns with steaming mugs, the firelight turning his face gold.

We eat slowly, the way you do when you don’t have anywhere you need to be tonight. Conversation drifts—how the weather’s likely to hold, what the lake might look like at sunset, whether the wildflowers will spread wider next year. That last one makes us all quiet for a moment.

Theo leans back, looking into the flames. “If they do, I’ll find them,” he says with quiet certainty. “Even if I have to search every square mile on foot.”

Dane snorts. “You’d enjoy that.”

Theo gives a small shrug but doesn’t deny it. “Some things are worth the time.”

I sip my tea, watching the firelight paint their faces, and feel it again—that strange, steady warmth of belonging. I don’t think any of us were looking for this, but it found us anyway.

As night deepens, the stars spill out overhead, thick and bright. I end up lying on my back between Dane and Theo, the three of us sharing one big blanket. Jamie shifts to sit closer to my feet, his hand brushing my ankle now and then like he’s making sure I’m still here.

The fire pops softly. The forest breathes around us. I hear Dane murmur something low to Theo, and Theo’s answering chuckle. Jamie sighs in contentment.

I think about my store, about shelves and jars and ribbon-tied bags of sweets. About Zae, who would’ve teased me mercilessly but loved every second of this trip. About next year, and the year after that.

I fall asleep under the night sky with all of them around me, thinking of flowers that will bloom again.