Page 34 of Simply Yours

“Maybe they’re the wrong guys then.”

The deep voice cut through the air, steady and deliberate, and Caitlin’s breath hitched.

Her head turned slowly, almost unwillingly, her pulse stuttering in her throat. Jason Baird stood there, broad-shouldered and unreadable, a small jar of barbecue seasoning in his hand.

Oh.

Mabel’s sharp eyes darted between them, her lips twitching as if she’d just won a bet no one knew they were making. Without another word, she stepped back, waving a hand toward the booth like a game show host presenting the grand prize. Then, with her donation jar tucked securely under her arm, she sauntered off, leaving Caitlin utterly alone with Jason.

The moment stretched taut, every sound around them fading into a muffled hum. The clatter of folding tables, the murmur of fading conversations—all of it blurred as Jason stepped closer, setting the small jar on her table with careful precision.

“How’d it go today for you?” he asked.

Caitlin willed herself to sound casual. “Great,” she lied, her voice just a touch too bright. “And you?”

“Great,” he echoed, though his gaze remained fixed on hers, unreadable and unwavering.

She swallowed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She should say something, make some excuse to leave, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t look away.

“Caitlin…” Jason’s voice was softer now, a rough edge scraping against the syllables of her name.

“Don’t,” she said quickly, raising a hand as if to physically stop whatever was about to come next. Her heart hammered against her ribs. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain or say anything.”

A flicker of something—hurt, regret, something raw—passed through his expression. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair before speaking again.

“I was going to ask if you were working the kissing booth.”

Her stomach twisted. “Me?” she croaked, glancing around. Most of the festival was packed up now. The few people left were too far away to overhear, making the moment feel even more charged.

“Why would you ask that?” she finally managed, though her throat felt tight.

Jason hesitated, then stepped closer, closing the small space between them. He was close enough now that she could see the way his jaw flexed, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Because then I might participate.” His voice was barely above a murmur, rough and uneven. His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before meeting her eyes again, the weight of his words settling between them.

Caitlin couldn’t breathe.

Jason cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “I’ve never done this,” he admitted, voice quiet, uncertain. “But I know both of my brothers love it.”

Her chest ached at the vulnerability beneath his words. There was something else there, too—something unspoken, something unfinished. The air between them crackled with it.

Caitlin’s hands curled into fists at her sides, her pulse pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

“I saw Luke kiss ol’ Mabel—but it was on the cheek,” she offered, testing the waters, seeing how he’d respond.

Jason barely blinked. “He’s a good kid.”

She scoffed. “He’s twenty-three.”

Jason shrugged, completely unfazed. “Still a kid to me.”

Caitlin smirked at his response but didn’t push it. Jason had always been stubborn, and she’d long since given up on trying to change his mind about anything. Instead, she watched as he stepped closer to the booth, his eyes flickering toward the structure like he was trying to make sense of it.

“So, um, how’s this go?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you just stand here or something?”

Caitlin’s breath hitched slightly. It was the first moment he actually seemed unsure of himself, and it sent a strange warmth curling through her chest. He was serious.

“You don’t have to do this…” she murmured, her voice softer than she intended.

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