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"I guess so.”
"You seem..." He pauses, like he's carefully considering his words. "Tense. Wound up. What's got you so uptight?"
His words catch me off guard, mostly because there's no trace of his usual teasing this time. For once, he sounds genuinely curious rather than purposefully provocative.
"I'm a lawyer," I say at last, keeping my tone brisk and professional. "It’s a hazard of the job.”
"Sure," he concedes easily. "But even lawyers have an off switch sometimes, don't they? You can't tell me you don't ever let that wild side out to play."
He punctuates the statement with a wicked grin, no doubt thinking back to our heated tryst the night before. I feel my cheeks flush at the memory, and I'm grateful when the truck slows to a stop in front of a rustic flower shop with a cheerfully lopsided sign and overflowing window boxes that seem to burst with more blooms than should be physically possible.
Stylz pulls the truck into the gravel lot and kills the engine. Pushing open the door, I slide out of the truck and follow him to the door.
A bell jingles as we step inside. The sweet fragrance of wildflowers and fresh greenery instantly envelops us.
"Well, hello there!" A cheery woman with streaks of silver in her dark hair emerges from a back room, dusting potting soil from her hands. “How can I help you folks today?"
"We're here to pick up some centerpiece arrangements for the Croft-Delgado wedding," Stylz explains.
"Of course, of course!" The woman's face falls slightly. "I'm afraid they won't be quite ready for another hour or so. My supplier was running late this morning."
My shoulders sag with a sigh. So much for a quick, painless errand. "I guess we'll come back—"
"Actually..." Stylz cuts me off, resting a hand at the small of my back. The unexpected contact makes me stiffen. "Why don't we take a little walk while we wait? There are some trails just up the road that offer amazing views."
I blink at him, caught off guard by the suggestion. "A walk? In these clothes?"
But the woman's eyes light up at his words. "Oh, he's right, dear! The Pine Ridge Trail is absolutely breathtaking this time of year."
"Oh, what the hell." I blow out a resigned breath, already regretting the decision. "Lead the way, mountain man."
The trail is, admittedly, stunning—a winding dirt path carved into the mountainside, flanked by towering pines and the occasional babbling brook. Wildflowers seem to burst from every nook and crevice in the rocks.
I do my best to keep up with Stylz's long, confident strides, but the uneven terrain isn't exactly made for high heels. More than once, I stumble, clutching his arm to steady myself.
"You're sure enjoying this, aren't you?" I huff as he waits for me to regain my footing.
"What's not to enjoy?" He sweeps his arm out, gesturing to the scenery around us. "Fresh mountain air, total serenity..." His gaze drops briefly to where I'm gripping his bicep, and a lopsided smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Beautiful company."
I roll my eyes, but I don't release his arm just yet. "This is all a bit much for me," I admit, unable to keep the slight edge of self-deprecation from my tone.
To my surprise, Stylz's expression turns serious. "Don't sell yourself short, Delilah."
The sound of my name on his lips, stripped of any teasing endearments, sends an unexpected shiver down my spine. I blink up at him owlishly, momentarily stunned into silence.
He continues, "You seem like a woman who can handle just about anything she sets her mind to."
I open my mouth, ready to deflect the unexpected compliment. But then I remember the opportunity I've been offered here in Silverpine, and the words die on my lips.
Could I really trade in the cutthroat corporate world for a simpler life in this charming mountain town? It seems unfathomable, yet the more time I spend here, the more it calls to me in a way I can't quite explain.
Before I can gather my thoughts, Stylz is already moving ahead, his long strides carrying him toward a small wooden bridge arched over a gurgling stream.
Rolling my eyes, I hurry to catch up with him, the rocks shifting treacherously beneath my high heels. I manage to make it to the bridge without incident, but I hesitate at the edge, eyeing the rickety wooden slats with trepidation.
"Oh, no. No way am I crossing that death trap in these shoes."
"Where's your sense of adventure?" Stylz counters, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
