Page 62 of Your Place or Mine

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You thought I’d be some latte-sipping city girl who’d try to turn the building into an artisan wine cave?”

“I didn’t think you’d care about Reckless River.”

She looked away at that, toward the taped-up swatches. “I care too much, actually. That’s kind of my problem.”

I stepped a little closer. “Why’d you really come here, Lydia?”

She looked back at me. “Because I was stuck. Because I lost someone and needed to start over somewhere that didn’t look like my old life.”

That hit me like a punch to the chest.

Loss…

I didn’t know what I expected her to say, but it wasn’t that. Not something real. Not something that matched the ache I’d been trying to hide in myself for years.

I didn’t answer.

Couldn’t.

And she didn’t fill the silence. She just stood there, watching me.

Open.

Honest.

Vulnerable in a way I wasn’t ready for but couldn’t ignore.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” she said finally. “I just want to build something that lasts.”

I let out a slow breath. “You picked the right town for it.”

Her smile was small and a little sad. “Not everyone agrees.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t agree.”

She arched a brow. “You sure had a funny way of showing it.”

I stepped in before I could stop myself, close enough to smell the citrus in her shampoo and see the freckles on her collarbone.

Her eyes widened just slightly.

“Maybe I just didn’t know how to say it.”

We were standing so close now that I could feel the heat coming off her skin. She tilted her chin up slightly to look at me, and I swear the entire room held its breath.

“You don’t strike me as someone who struggles with words,” she whispered.

“I do when they matter.”

Her mouth parted just a little.

I leaned in, just an inch, barely even a movement, but her breath hitched like it was a kiss.

It wasn’t.

But it could’ve been.

If I let it.

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