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Her eyes flickered, startled by the agreement.

“But you need to understand something.” My voice dipped. “I’m not most men.”

She swallowed hard.

“And you’re going to break that promise for me, eventually,” I murmured, watching her pupils flare. “Not because I demand it. Not because I’m asking. But because whatever this is between us is bigger than that vow you made because of him.”

Her breath caught.

“You’ll break it,” I said as my thumb brushed her cheekbone again, “because something in me broke the second I saw you, and nothing’s going to put it back.” I brushed my nose against hers. “Baby, not every promise is meant to last.”

“S-sterling…”

“I’m the one you break it for,” I whispered. “I’m the one who won’t make you regret it.”

We just looked at each other, her eyes wide and shimmering with confusion, mine steady and waiting. The air between us felt thick enough to touch. I could almost feel her heart tugging toward me.

She swayed closer.

But then the panic hit again. A crack rippled through her expression, and she tore her gaze from mine like the connection burned. Her breath caught and stumbled, and then she pushed off the tree with a frantic energy.

“Sienna,” I called. But she was already running away.

By the time I stepped out from the shade, she had broken fully into the open sunlight of the parking lot.

Hattie’s Volkswagen was parked crookedly near the trailhead, engine idling, the passenger door hanging wide open like fate had leaned out and waved her forward.

Sienna rushed toward it, and, at least for now…I didn’t chase. I walked into the lot at an easy pace, because I already knew this moment wasn’t an ending.

She wasn’t running from me. She was running from her fear.

But someone’s fear had never been very good at stopping me.

CHAPTER 22

SIENNA

Ishut my room door at the inn with more force than necessary, sagging against it like the wood was the only thing keeping me upright.

Silence rushed in around me.

Finally.

Blessed, terrifying silence.

I had survived Hattie’s interrogation in the car by some miracle of verbal gymnastics and outright lying.

She’d asked if I’d fallen into the spring. I’d said yes.

She’d asked why I was blotchy and shaking. I’d blamed the cold.

She’d asked if I was falling for Sterling Hayes. I’d said, “absolutely not,” so quickly I nearly swallowed my tongue.

Hattie just gave me a slow, suspicious little nod…and then, for reasons I will never understand, she let it go.

But now there was no Hattie or bumpy gravel road. There was no scenery blurring past the windows.

There was nothing left to pull my attention away from the mess inside my own head.