Page 71 of Found in Wild Sage

“You have nothing to thank me for.” How could he? He bought dinner, arranged it, had a selection of movie suggestions, and at some point, covered me with a blanket.

He gives me one of those looks instead of responding and finally releases my phone. This expression always sets my heart on fire, and tonight, I can’t take much more, so I turn and march toward the stairs.

“See you bright and early.”

I hope he can’t hear the twinge of heartache in my tone. I press my hand to my chest as I mount the stairs to my room. His room.

Because as much as I know Declan is someone who will only do what he wants, it makes moments like these almost unbearable.

Because if he wanted to kiss me, he would.

If he wanted to be with me, he would.

If he wanted more than simply to help us…

He would.

Wouldn’t he?

I’m not sure why I expected pandemonium at the campsite, but when we arrive to find the Ryan family all neatly organized and heading off in different directions, I’m both relieved and shocked.

The wildness should’ve helped distract me from this buzzy, achy feeling in my chest. It might’ve helped me keep my mind from appreciating Declan in athletic shorts and a T-shirt that remind me just how ridiculously fit he is. Not that I can ever truly forget after the morning encounter of him shirtless post-run, but here he is flaunting it in my face all over again.

And the worst part about that is I genuinely don’t think this man is aware of what he does to me. We’ve got a real “She Don’t Know She’s Beautiful” situation here, but it’s a ridiculously hot, fit, self-sacrificing, brilliant, talented, thoughtful, respectful, sexy man.

“Yay! You’re here!”

Sam mercifully ends my mental spiral with a hug, but as soon as she sees my face, her eyes widen.

“Oh, okay.” She looks around for her fiancé. “Hey, Grant? Can you help your brother?”

Grant tips his head down and jogs over to Declan, who’s handing Charlie off to Mary. Charlie squeals out a “Gammy!” and my heart, for at least the tenth time today, squeezes.

Sam loops her arm in mine, and we tromp off along a path past a few campers, a tent, and a grove of trees until we reach a stretch of squatty plants I’m pretty sure are sagebrush.

“Okay. What’s going on?”

The compassion on her face snaps the admittedly flimsy barrier I’ve managed to erect and tears immediately spill over. I press my hands to my face and breathe through the overflow of emotion.

“Hey, whoa. It’s okay. Whatever’s happening, we’ll figure it out.”

She’s so kind and I hate the idea that she might be worried something’s truly wrong, so I suck it up and swipe at my eyes.

“Sorry, I just…” My traitorous eyes fill again. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”

It’s a gasped, whispered, teary confession and both a relief and horror to have the words out of me and floating into the air.

But Sam is unfazed. Her dark ponytail bounces at the back of her head under her hat with absolutely zero shock. “Oh, honey. Of course you are.”

I swipe at my nose with a tissue she produces from her pocket, and an agonized chuckle tumbles out. “Of course?”

She smiles kindly, but also in a way that says, obviously.

“You already had a crush. Something tells me being up close and personal with him wasn’t ever going to be the cure.”

Understatement.

She heaves a big breath and hugs me. “And are we sure…?”