Page 67 of Slow Burn
Time to dive in, she thought, taking a breath. She stepped up beside him, and her hand brushed his.
He arched a brow. “Careful, Darlin’. I’d almost think you want to hold my hand.”
Her breath caught, and she felt that tug of war again between date and not date, wisdom and desire. “You promised to keep them to yourself.”
He nodded, solemn. “I did.”
“But I didn’t.” She slid her hand into his, making the decision, even though her stomach flipped. The callouses of his palm scraped hers, sending a tingle straight up her arm.
His expression softened with wonder before he squeezed her hand. “Not a date, though, right?”
She rolled her eyes, trying to hide her smile. “Shut up.”
He grinned as he led her forward.
The bonfire roared high, unnecessary in the clinging heat but mesmerizing all the same. Shadows danced through the crowd and across Cole’s face, making him look caught between light and dark.
“So, this is the bonfire night,” Jocelyn murmured. “Can’t imagine what kind of hootenanny Harvest Fest must be.”
Cole’s mouth tightened. “It’s more important to them than it should be.”
She frowned at his tone. “But this is nice. To have community.” Her voice caught on the word, touched by a longing she couldn’t quite shake. Her mama hadn’t had this—not really. Not after Daniel Abbott’s family pushed her out.
The thought of her father hit her like a bolt. What if he was there? The memory of their brief encounter the day before made her stomach pitch. She still wasn’t ready.
“You doin’ okay, Darlin’?” Cole asked, nodding at a passerby as he walked her in an easy loop, letting the crowd get used to her presence—or maybe the other way around.
“Fine,” she answered automatically.
He lifted their joined hands. “My numb fingers say otherwise.”
Her face flooded with heat, and she loosened her grip. “Sorry.”
“You don’t always have to say ‘fine,’ you know.”
She squinted at him.
He smirked. “Might feel better if you just said what’s really botherin’ you.”
“I am fine,” she insisted, her voice too even.
“There’s that word again.”
She glared at him, and he laughed.
“It doesn’t have to be me,” he said. Then he winked. “But I am good at keepin’ secrets.”
Her chest warmed in a way that felt a little dangerous. But surely he was safe, far enough removed from her family drama to handle what was on her mind. Maybe that’s why the truth slipped out before she could snatch it back.
“I was thinking about Daniel Abbott. Worried he might be here.”
Cole hummed. “You can relax. The Abbotts rarely bother with this.”
She cut a dark look across the crowd, taking in the revelry, the smiles. “Beneath them?”
“Lydia, yes. Daniel’s too busy cuttin’ deals and pushin’ folks off their land.” His tone matched what she felt.
“Land? Why?”
