Page 23 of Tessa and Nash

A shift. A pull. My shoulders tense. My grip tightens on the glass. The room seems to tilt, just slightly—my balance has gone off without warning.

I glance toward the door.

Dark coat. Snow dusted boots. Confident stride that doesn’t hesitate, even with half the room turning to look.

For one stupid heartbeat, my brain supplies the wrong answer.

Not her.

Then she steps fully into the light.

Tessa Long.

My breath catches so hard it actually hurts.

Her hair is braided tight, same as always, but her cheeks are flushed from the cold, her eyes bright and alert, taking in the room.

My pulse spikes, loud and insistent, my body’s sounding an alarm my mind didn’t authorize.

This is not how I wanted to see her again after that meeting.

This is not how I wanted to feel.

She pauses just inside the doorway, scanning the bar. The second her gaze lands on me, electricity snaps through my chest.

Locked.

There’s no mistaking it this time.

Her eyes narrow in recognition.

She’s found exactly what she came for.

My stomach drops. My skin goes tight. Heat curls low and unwelcome, completely at odds with the panic chasing it.

Of all the nights.

Of all the places.

Maeve O’Connell steps in beside her, already clocking the room, already grinning as if this is better than whatever she’d expected.

I lift my glass without meaning to, hand moving on instinct alone, heart hammering against my ribs, trying to escape.

Because if there is one person in Buckhorn who will not let this lie slide…

It’s Tessa Long.

CHAPTER SIX

Tessa

January 3rd

“Why are we here?” she asks, stumbling half a step as warmth and noise swallow us whole. “You said you were tired.”

“I was,” I say. “Then I saw something I couldn’t unsee.”

She follows my gaze and groans. “Absolutely not.”