Page 12 of Big Package

“I didn’t say that.”

“You seem to say that a lot.”

“It works.”

“So does changing the subject.”

That earned me the smallest tug at the corner of his mouth before he hid it behind another bite. I considered it progress.

The ice kept tapping against the windows, and I’d peeled off my damp sweater. The long-sleeved shirt underneath had seemed like plenty when I left Wrapped on Main, but the cold clung to me after the drive and the short walk from my SUV.

I rubbed my hands over my arms.

Cole noticed. “You cold?”

“I’m fine.”

He pushed back from the table anyway.

“I said I’m fine.”

“Yeah.” He disappeared down the hallway. A few seconds later, he came back carrying a dark gray sweatshirt and held it out to me.

My irritation evaporated so quickly it was embarrassing.

“Oh.”

“Put it on.”

I took it but didn’t pull it over my head yet. “You know, you could have just asked if I wanted a sweatshirt.”

“You’re cold.”

“That still isn’t asking.”

He shook his head.

I waited.

He stared back at me long enough that I almost gave in just to save us both the effort. Then he exhaled through his nose. “Would you like the sweatshirt?”

I smiled. “I’d love the sweatshirt. Thank you.”

The sweatshirt swallowed me. The sleeves covered most of my hands, and the hem fell well past my hips. Worse, it smelled faintly like laundry detergent, cedar, and something else I was starting to associate with Cole. That seemed like a dangerous development considering I’d been inside his house for less than two hours.

When I pulled my head through the neck opening, he was staring at me. His gaze moved over the sweatshirt, lingered for a beat, then returned to my face.

Heat crept into my cheeks, and I tugged at one of the sleeves. “Do you feel better now?”

His attention stayed on me for another second. “Yeah.”

I reached for my spoon because focusing on chili seemed much safer than wondering why his voice sounded different than it had before.

My phone buzzed against the table.

JANICE: Jace says the road by the Visitor Center is getting worse. Don’t even think about driving.

ME: I won’t.