I found Sheryn checking her phone, her face falling. “Oh no.”
“What?” I asked.
“It’s your dance partner. He’s down with the cold.”
“Oh,” I uttered, surprised by how much relief came with that single word. “Well, that’s that, then. Guess I’m off the hook.”
Sheryn, bless her, lookedgenuinelyguilty, like she was personally responsible for the existence of viruses. “I’m so sorry, Maya. I know I roped you into this, and now you won’t even get to practice?—”
“Rynnie,” I cut in, “it’s fine. No complaints here. I’ll be the first to sit this one out.”
Before she could keep spiraling, Claire, who had been listening far too intently, tilted her head in thought.
Then, her eyes lit up.
“Oh,” she said, straightening up. “I havejustthe solution.”
I frowned. “Claire?—”
She whipped around, scanning the room. “Where’s Noah?”
Elia perked up instantly, already enjoying this far too much. “Outside, I think. Helping Hank with the barrels.”
Claire beamed. “Perfect.”
I stiffened. “Claire, no?—”
Too late.
She turned toward the exit and shouted into the night air, “Noah!”
There was a long pause.
Then, from somewhere outside, came a very wary, “Yeah?”
“Come here a sec!”
Another pause. Then came the sound of bootsteps approaching.
And just like that, Noah Lucas walked straight into an ambush.
He’d barely crossed the threshold—one boot inside, the rest of him still backlit by the late afternoon sun, but I saw him.
Mercy, I amtoosober for this.
Sinful hair. Handsome face. Scuffed boots. Damp jeans. Shirtless. Though my eyes did not follow such a polite route. And my brain? Scrambled eggs.
He lingered at the tent’s edge until Claire slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Great! You’re just in time.”
“For what?” he asked, already suspicious.
Elia leaned back in his chair. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”
Claire said to Noah, sweet as sugar, “Congratulations, Noah. You’re Maya’s new dance partner.”
His brows shot upward. “Come again?”
Sheryn came barreling toward Claire, waving her hands in my direction like she was flagging down a plane.