Page 9 of Startup Fire

The subject was closed. Jess returned to her workspace, but her mind kept circling back to those pendant hearts. Six years of making them. Six years of this annual memorial.

The afternoon stretched on. While shaping her second bauble, she reached for her graphite paddle on the small, shared tool bench.

Wayne reached for something at the same moment.

Their hands collided—her fingers brushing against his for maybe half a second. The contact was electric.

Wayne jerked his hand back like he'd been burned. “Sorry.”

“No, I—” But he was already retreating to his side of the barn.

Jess grabbed her paddle with shaking hands. Her mind wasn't on the work anymore. It was on that moment of contact, the way her entire body had responded to a simple brush of hands.

When she glanced up, she caught him watching her. Their eyes met for a heartbeat before he looked away.

Oh.

This wasn't just her being attracted to him. That moment had been mutual.

Jess finished the bauble on autopilot and moved it to the kiln. It was late afternoon, time to call it a day.

Wayne was also packing up, taking longer than necessary. Arranging tools that were already arranged.

“Thanks again. For letting me use the space.”

“It's fine.” He crossed to a cabinet and pulled out a key, holding it out. “So you don't have to wait for me. Work whenever you need to.”

Jess stared at the key in his palm. The key to the place he'd been so reluctant to share. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Wayne's voice was gruff. “Just lock up when you leave.”

Jess took the key, their fingers brushing. She closed her hand around it carefully.

“Thank you.” Her voice came out softer than she'd intended. “For trusting me.”

Wayne nodded, something unreadable flickering across his face. Then he turned back to banking his forge.

“Same time tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, that works.”

The way he said it suggested he really wanted to make it work.

And God help her, so did she. In more ways than one.