Anna
I smiledthrough the rest of the evening, kept the conversation going, and even teased Jordan a little over dinner. But it was a stretch—like trying to cover a deep crack in a cake with too-thin icing. Even Jordan noticed. I caught the way his eyes kept flicking toward me, uncertain, like he was trying to understand what had changed.
I could pretend all I wanted, but what happened wasn’t okay.
The moment kept replaying in my head—me standing there in the kitchen, laughter still in the air, and then suddenly, not. Chase’s teasing smile had faded into something else in my mind, something colder, something from before. My body had reacted before I even realized it, stepping back like I needed to protect myself.
I hated that Chase saw it.
He didn’t push. He gave me space. But by the time he came back from taking Jordan home, I’d already cleaned up dinner and slipped out to the quiet of my cabin. I needed time to breathe. To let the ghosts settle.
But I was still too keyed up to sleep.
Instead, I stayed up late, the soft glow of the kitchen light keeping me company as I gathered ingredients I hadn’t touched in years. Goat’s milk. Lye I’d spontaneously purchased on my last trip to town, as if some part of me already knew I’d need it. Oils. Lavender I’d picked from the garden and hung to dry.
I needed something familiar. Something slow and calming. Something I could control with my own hands.
So I made soap. The way Mama taught me. My hands moved from memory as, late into the night, I mixed and poured as the scent filled the kitchen—soft, floral, familiar. Shortly after midnight, I finally collapsed into bed, too tired to do anything but sleep.
The next morning, I was still in my robe, hair a mess, when a knock came at the door.
I opened it cautiously, and there he was.
“Chase,” I said, tugging my robe a little tighter over the old T-shirt I wore. “Is everything okay?”
He gave me that crooked, boyish grin that made something flutter in my chest. “Depends.”
“On?”
“Well… I know today’s your day off, but how do you feel about spending it with me?”
My brows lifted. “Now?”
“What better time?”
“What exactly are we doing?”
He leaned against the door frame. “Thought we could pick up lunch at Ruth’s and head to the lake. A picnic, then maybe some paddle boating. Or just relaxing.”
“I could make something instead,” I offered.
He stepped a little closer, brushing his knuckles gently along my cheek. His touch was warm, and I leaned into it, my body responding before my brain could catch up.Everything about his movements was unhurried and deliberate, giving me all the space in the world to back away if I needed to.
My heart beat faster. This time not with fear, but with something more complicated. Anticipation. Want. Need.
His mouth brushed against mine, gentle and tentative.
My breath caught, and my fingers that had curled uncertainly at my sides now slid up his chest. His lips moved over mine, no pressure, no expectation, as if asking if this was okay.
And everything inside me whispered,Yes!
His hand found my waist, but he didn’t pull me in. He just let the moment happen. Letting it be exactly what I needed it to be, and that made my chest ache in the best way.
We stayed in a kiss that was slow and languid. Reacquainting ourselves through touch. I could feel him harden against me, but he made no move to further the kiss.
When he finally pulled back, I had to fight the impulse to haul him back to me and forget our plans for the day. To pull him back to my bedroom and pick up where we’d left off.
Instead, I opened my eyes to find him already watching me, his gaze tender but watchful, like he was still checking to make sure the storm from last night had fully passed.
