Page 34 of Burning Hearts
He glanced over. I raised the loose banner tail I’d retied—the half-hitch obedient. He gave a single nod. Something low and warm crept up inside me.
I pivoted to our rivalry voice for the audience that wanted it.
“Nice knot,” I said. “Did your ex-girlfriend teach you that one, too?”
A #TeamBrew couple perked up and watched.
Cade deadpanned, “No. She taught me ties.”
“Domestication looks good on you,” I said.
The couple laughed and the muscle in Cade’s cheek did a small twitch that probably didn’t know it had been seen.
Beck reappeared to shepherd people around with the power of posture. He nodded once at us like a sound check: levels good, lanes clear, optics plausible. Behind him, Tansy made a slow orbit, a satellite whose mission was to disturb, but only slightly.
Beck bumped into her path with a printed itinerary.
Wyatt took a lap, chatted with a Riverfield resident, and left safety wherever he walked.
Later, the Commons had found its gear. Beau’s cameraman got his wide shot. #TeamSignal supporters posed.
I re-chalked a scuffed line on the asphalt. Cade knelt to assist; I mirrored him on the other side. Our hands bumped inthe middle, chalk dusted. I started to brush the white off his knuckle, but he stopped me and left it there.
“Evidence,” he said—and didn’t dust it off.
I stood too quickly, clipped the A-frame again, and cursed… again.
The pocket kit reappeared, again.
Another clean, another small bandage, his thumb bracing the pad—slower now, like both of us remembered the first time and were pretending we didn’t.
“Do you carry that kit for all your enemies?” I asked lightly. “Or just me?”
“Enemies don’t show up early,” he said.
I was going to feel that in my ribs the rest of the morning.
A woman in a #TeamSignal tee leaned in. “Y’all are good on camera,” she confessed, then winked at both of us. “Play nice.”
“We’ll try,” I said.
“We certainly will,” he said.
The stroller tangle never came back, and the wind downgraded itself to background noise. Our private thread stayed holstered; even with Cade just ten feet away from me.
“Ellis,” Beck called from the mezzanine steps, voice pitched to carry. “Lantern Room tonight at nine-fifteen. I need faces for the lighting test.”
He had a dozen hotel employees to choose from. Asking for me while Cade was still in earshot wasn’t subtle. The day sheet would say “Lantern Room light test,” but everyone knew a cover story when they heard one.
I lifted a hand. My phone buzzed a moment later.
Cade:Lantern?
I typedCopy, deleted it because it felt flat, then sent it because it was correct.
Cade and I inevitably crossed in the lane like people who hadn’t planned to.
“Got it,” I said. “I’ll be there.”
