Page 15 of Accidentally Yours
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice embarrassingly breathless.
Ethan blinked, as if just realizing he was still holding her. “I—” He cleared his throat. “Keeping you from hitting the floor?”
It sounded like a question. Like maybe he’d just felt the same zing she had.
Then Ethan smirked. “Did you just yell ‘Son of a Biscuit’?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I think I did.”
A throat cleared beside them, and they both turned their heads to find the server unimpressed, holding a plate.
“Your lemon-raspberry pie,” she said flatly.
Paige scrambled upright, cheeks flaming, as Ethan let go.
Because, obviously, she should focus on finding the clue—not on the feeling of being pressed to Ethan’s solid-as-steel chest, or on inhaling his mind-numbing scent, or on staring deeply into his ice-blue eyes.
Besides, he was only keeping her clumsy self from crashing into a table. Nothing more.
The server set the pie and a few plates on the table.
Paige slid into her seat and said, “Thank you.” It was a blanket statement, meant for the server and Ethan’s quick reflexes. Ethan offered a grin and joined her at the table.
“Enjoy, and let me know if you need anything else,” the server said, before scurrying off.
Paige quickly scooped a big forkful of pie into her mouth, wanting to stop herself from saying anything stupid. The citrus tang and creamy texture broke through her embarrassment and made her sigh. “My goodness.”
As they chewed and relished the amazingness of the dessert, Paige braced herself for the teasing—about smacking heads, her general clumsiness, the old-lady cursing, or maybe the way her cheeks must’ve flamed red as he held her.
Instead, Ethan glanced over her shoulder and stopped chewing.
Paige followed his wide-eyed stare. “What?”
He stood and took two strides to the fireplace mantel. Paige followed but wasn’t sure what he saw. Quickly, she realized the wooden mantel had the name of the restaurant etched across the front of it.
Find the name etched in the dining room.
Paige sucked in a breath. She stood on her tiptoes next to Ethan, trying to see what he saw, but his height was definitely an advantage. Reaching up, he pulled an envelope from between the stone hearth and the wooden mantel.
“I saw the corner of it peeking out.” Ethan turned to her, his eyes wide, holding the envelope between them.
“The third clue,” Paige whisper-shouted in excitement, feeling like they’d just discovered treasure in a pirate ship. She gasped. “Open it.”
They sat back down at their table, and Ethan carefully broke the red wax seal—just like the last envelope. Paige scooted to the edge of her seat and wanted to scream for him to go faster, but caught the tenderness on his face and squashed down her excitement, letting him go at his own speed.
Ethan’s fingers traced the edge of the paper before he carefully unfolded it, his breath hitching just slightly as he read. His usual cocky bravado faded, replaced by something quieter, more intense. Paige had expected him to gloat or toss off some smug remark. Instead, he just stared at the words, his jaw tightening like they meant more than just another step in the treasure hunt.
Something in her chest shifted. She had assumed this was a game to him, a convenient excuse to ride on her idea. But now, watching the way he held the fragile scrap of paper—as if it contained something precious—she wasn’t so sure.
For her, this was a treasure hunt.
For him, it was much more.
Finally, Ethan set the paper on the table between them. They both angled over it, their heads just inches apart. Ethan read aloud, and Paige followed the penned cursive as he spoke.
Framed in light, a century’s glow,
a hidden mark where dreamers go.
