She laughs at something Jenna says, her shoulder brushing mine as she leans slightly in my direction. I glance at her just quick enough to catch the secret smile she hides behind her glass. Not the polite one. The real one. The one that makes my chest ache.
I shouldn't look. I shouldn't want to. But I can't stop. Every little detail pulls me tighter—the curve of her wrist as she passes the basket, the way her hair falls forward when she tilts her head, the flush in her cheeks from the warmth of the room.
It feels like we're in our own current, separate from the family around us. Already a secret no one else at this table knows.
"So, how's your week been, Kassi?" Jenna asks, passing the green beans.
Kassi's hands flutter up, bracelets jingling as she describes seven-year-old Emma's kitchen disaster. "Flour everywhere—ceiling, somehow—and Emma standing there with this wooden spoon, so serious, telling me, 'Mommy, the recipe said fold, not stir.'" Her voice drops to a whisper I've never heard before, nothing like her clipped tone when she's working.
Josh leans forward, elbows on the table. "Did the birthday kid like them?"
Mom refills Kassi's water without being asked. "Oh god, the first batch?" Kassi's eyes crinkle. "Charcoal hockey pucks. Had to open every window." Zach's laugh booms across the table, his head thrown back. Where I should feel caution, I feel pride.
Zach points a fork at her. "So you are one of those people who measure with their heart?"
Kassi lifts her chin. "It works with salt and sugar. I haven't tested it with lumber."
Finn grins. "Careful. If you ask Asher, he will say lumber needs a tape and two approvals."
I keep my eyes on my plate. "Because I want the barn to stay upright."
Kassi leans nearer, pulled to me by an invisible thread. "Upright is good." Her knee presses into mine again, and I swallow, pretending I don’t notice.
Mom taps the serving spoon to hush the table. "Kassi, you must come to the rodeo next weekend. Finn is riding, and Zach is thinking about it."
"Thinking is generous," Zach says. "I’m committed to watching Finn from a safe distance."
Kassi turns to Finn. "What do I need to know so I don’t cheer at the wrong moment?"
Finn warms to the topic and explains the basics, and Kassi listens intently. She asks good questions and laughs at the right parts, and the more she does, the tighter something winds in my chest.
By dessert, my composure is hanging by a thread.
I push back my chair, desperate for air. "I'm gonna stretch my legs," I mutter.
Kassi stands too, smoothing her skirt, her eyes flicking to mine. "Mind if I join you?"
I nod once, afraid that if I open my mouth, I'll give everything away.
Zach's gaze cuts between us. "Bring in more wood when you come back," he says, casual but curious. I ignore the look he gives me and head for the side door.
We slip out the side door, the hum of family chatter fading behind us. The night air is cool, carrying the scent of cedar and fresh grass. We walk side by side, our hands brushing now andagain, until the barn comes into view. Dolly, Josh's horse, moves like a shadow in the pasture, her presence steady and strange as always.
"This place," she says barely above a whisper, leaning against the fence. "It's beautiful."
"Yeah," I answer, stepping close enough that our shoulders nearly touch. "It is."
She glances back at the lit windows. "Your mom is sweet."
"She likes to fix things," I say. "Sometimes people."
Kassi's mouth curves. "I figured when she blocked the grocery aisle and said she wouldn’t let me cook for one."
"You could have said no."
"I did. Twice. She told me she had already thawed the dessert and there was no going back."
I huff a laugh, and it eases the tightness in my chest. "That sounds like her."