Page 10 of Ranger's Wildflower
I leaned one forearm against the counter. “Wasn’t trying to be charming.”
“No?”
“No.” I held her gaze. “Trying to get you to stop looking at me like I’m a bomb about to go off.”
Silence stretched between us.
Outside, a truck rumbled slowly past the shop.
Inside, the cooler hummed softly behind her.
Tessa’s fingers tightened around the edge of the paper bag.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” she said quietly.
The teasing left my expression instantly.
“Then tell me.”
“No.”
Too quick.
Like the answer had been waiting already loaded in the chamber.
I straightened a little. “Why not?”
Her eyes flicked away for the first time since I walked in.
Toward the window.
Toward the street.
Anywhere but me.
“Because you wouldn’t look at me the same way after.”
The words landed hard enough to knock the air out of my chest.
Not because of what she said—
because of how she said it.
Like she already knew exactly how this story ended.
I studied her more carefully then.
The rigid line of her shoulders.
The way her fingers curled against the counter hard enough to whiten her knuckles.
Not angry.
Braced.
Like she was waiting for impact.
“You don’t get to make that decision for me,” I said quietly.
