“Then why have you never touched me?”
Caleb’s jaw tightened.
“Because wanting a woman and having permission are different things.”
Her heart hammered.
He stepped closer.
Stopped before reaching her.
“If that ever changes, you tell me.”
Then he walked outside.
Eleanor sat alone for five minutes.
Then whispered:
“Coward.”
Loud enough that he probably heard through the door.
The next week became unbearable.
Not because anything happened.
Because nothing did.
A hand brushing when passing a cup.
Caleb standing behind Eleanor to reach a high shelf.
His chest nearly touching her back.
Her turning.
Too close.
Both freezing.
Then moving apart.
One night she found him shirtless near the stove after hauling wood through sleet.
A scar ran from shoulder to ribs.
Eleanor stared.
Caleb noticed.
“You're staring.”
She hated hearing her own words returned.
“Professional interest.”
“In what profession?”
“Observation.”
His mouth curved.
“Dangerous.”
She looked away.
Later, behind the curtain, she heard him settle onto the improvised mattress he had built.
She lay awake thinking about the distance of six feet.
It felt larger than the mountain.
The next crisis arrived with a broken axle.
Caleb returned from the upper trail after dark.
His wagon had overturned.
No serious injury.
But his left shoulder was cut.
Eleanor ordered him into the chair.
He obeyed.
She cleaned the wound.
Caleb sat shirtless.
Again.
Apparently the mountain required this.
Her fingers moved across the edge of the cut.
His skin was hot.
“Does that hurt?”
“Not where you're touching.”
She looked up.
His eyes were on her.
“That was inappropriate.”
“Yes.”
“You regret it?”
“No.”
Eleanor tried not to smile.
Failed.
She tied the bandage.
Caleb caught her wrist lightly before she stepped away.
Immediately he loosened his grip.
“May I?”
She understood.
“Yes.”
His thumb moved once over the inside of her wrist.
Barely anything.
Eleanor’s pulse became ridiculous.
Caleb felt it.
His eyes darkened.
“Eleanor.”
“Yes?”
“Tell me to let go.”
She stepped closer instead.
He remained seated.
That put their faces nearly level.
Her hand moved to his beard.
His breath changed.
“This isn't evidence for Fletcher.”
“No.”
“Not part of the agreement.”
“No.”
Eleanor leaned closer.
“Then stop asking questions.”
She kissed him.
Caleb went completely still.
For one heartbeat.
Then one arm moved around her waist.
Slowly enough that she could stop him.
She did not.
He pulled her gently between his knees.
The kiss deepened.
Eleanor’s hands moved into his hair.
Caleb exhaled against her mouth.
His palm spread against her back.
The other remained deliberately visible beside her hip.
Still asking without words.
Eleanor took that hand.
Placed it at her waist.
Caleb broke the kiss.
“Are you sure?”
She laughed softly.
“You ruin everything.”
“Answer.”
“Yes.”
He kissed her again.
Longer.
Warmer.
Then he stopped.
Forehead against hers.
“Contract.”
Eleanor nearly groaned.