“I’m not sure Daniel’s knees are up to it. Better hire movers.”

She smacks my arm as we turn away from the tent. “Ouch, woman. If you want my biceps to bring in your giant-ass Hoosier whatsit, you really ought to treat them better.” I lead us toward the food tent where I can smell something fried, probably twice, calling to me.

Shelby wraps her arm through mine and tips her head to my shoulder as we walk. “I’m sorry, Cam’s Biceps, please forgive me.” She rubs the flannel covering my upper arm and I work at keeping a bland expression on my face as my whole body burns under her ministrations.

My. T-shirt. For Christ’s sake.

“I’m sure all will be forgotten if we can take an ice-cream break. My treat.”

“Deal. It’s finally warming up.” Shelby lets go of my arm to slip out of her heavy sweater and tie it in a bulky knot around her waist. “Let’s get some lunch first. I think there’s a small folk band playing, so we can sit and listen to music.”

We end up ordering a plate of loaded nachos and a couple of lemonades and sit at a picnic table near the edge of a gathering crowd that’s huddled in front of a small stage. For a few minutes, we eat in comfortable silence, but once the music starts up, Shelby’s boot starts tapping and before I know what I’m doing, my hand is outstretched and a smile quirks on my lips.

Shelby’s blue eyes sparkle with humor. “Seriously?”

“Dare you.”

“Well, hell. I haven’t been dared in years.” Shelby takes my hand and I tug her to her feet, leading her out toward the middle of the crowd. We sway side to side, connected by hands and hips and shoulders. The song is a cover of a country hit, and I can’t help but sing along with the lyrics. Shelby giggles and joins after a few beats. I twirl her around, growing more comfortable. We aren’t anyone here. I spin her out and pull her back in and she follows my lead seamlessly in a modified kind of two-step. I meet her eyes and can’t look away. I’m lost in a memory of us, the sun setting on an open field while I clumsily kiss my way down her body, giddy with nerves and lust. I knew that night I could love this girl—woman. That I would always love her.

God, I’m an idiot for ever walking away.

I can’t do it again.

What if I didn’t? What if I stayed? What if we sold the season? Could I stay here, working so close to Shelby, loving her as I do, unrequited?