The drive back to town was quiet.
Boone's hand rested on the center console between them—close enough that Ivy could feel the heat radiating from his skin, but not touching. The distance felt deliberate. Intentional. Like he was proving to both of them that he could give her space even when it cost him.
The truck's headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the winding mountain road. The forest pressed close on either side, and Ivy could hear the distant sound of dogs barking—Granger dogs, marking territory, keeping watch. The sound should have been ominous. Instead, it felt like protection.
"You okay?" Boone asked quietly.
"I don't know." Ivy looked out the window at the passing trees. "I feel like I should be angry that you're making me wait."
"Are you?"
"No." She turned to
