Chapter 23 : Summer Sweetness
Caroline Forbes looked stunning in a sundress.
I'd cleaned the truck for an hour before picking her up—vacuumed the seats, scrubbed the dashboard, hung one of those pine tree air fresheners that probably smelled more like chemicals than actual pine. Matt Donovan's truck was old and worn, but it could be presentable when it mattered.
This mattered.
"Where are we going?" Caroline climbed into the passenger seat, smoothing her dress. Yellow with white flowers. She'd coordinated her sandals to match.
"I was thinking the old theater, then maybe ice cream?"
Her smile was bright enough to hurt. "Perfect. I love the old theater. They still have real butter on the popcorn."
The drive to town was easy. Caroline talked about her summer—the festival planning, the cheerleading practices, her ongoing struggle to convince her mother that an 11 PM curfew was "practically medieval" for someone about to be a senior.
I listened, asked questions, filed away details. Not strategically—or not only strategically. I was genuinely interested in the way her mind worked, the complicated architecture of her ambitions and insecurities.
The movie was a romantic comedy that I'd never heard of and probably wouldn't remember. But Caroline laughed at all the jokes, squeezed my hand during the sad parts, and declared it "actually pretty good" during the credits.
Afterwards: ice cream.
The shop on Main Street was the only one in town, family-owned for three generations. The woman behind the counter gave us extra sprinkles without being asked, winking at me as she handed over Caroline's cone.
"You're that Donovan boy," she said. "Good to see Kelly's kids turning out okay."
I didn't know how to respond to that. Caroline saved me by pulling me toward the door, already working on her ice cream.
We walked through the town square as the sun set, trading bites of each other's cones—hers chocolate, mine vanilla—and talking about nothing in particular. The conversation was easy in a way that surprised me. No strategy required. Just two people enjoying each other's company.
This is what normal feels like.
The thought hit harder than expected. In my previous life, I'd never had this. Too busy with work, with the endless grind of corporate survival. Dating had been a series of awkward dinners and unfulfilled expectations. Nothing like this warmth, this simple joy of walking beside someone who actually wanted to be there.
We found a bench near the gazebo as fireflies emerged from the grass. Caroline finished her cone, licked her fingers clean, and then sat in silence for a long moment.
She was fidgeting. Picking at her nails. The confident organizer gone, replaced by a girl who seemed almost nervous.
I took her hand.
"So are we doing this?" Her voice was quieter than usual. "Being... a thing?"
I thought about all the reasons this was complicated. The supernatural threats looming on the horizon. The secrets I was keeping. The fact that my primary reason for pursuing her had been protection rather than romance.
But those reasons felt distant now. Theoretical. What was real was her hand in mine, her eyes searching my face, the way my heart beat faster when she smiled.
"If you want to be a thing," I said, "I want to be a thing."
She laughed—relieved, happy, that genuine brightness I'd first noticed at the football field weeks ago. "That's not exactly a declaration of love."
"Would you prefer a declaration of love? I can workshop something."
"God, no." She leaned against my shoulder. "This is good. This is perfect."
We sat like that for a while, watching the fireflies dance, listening to the sounds of a small town settling into evening. Her hair smelled like vanilla and something floral. Her shoulder fit against mine like it belonged there.
When I turned my head, she was already looking at me.
The kiss was soft. Careful. The kind of first kiss that asks permission with every moment, ready to pull back if the answer is no.
The answer wasn't no.
Caroline's hand found my cheek, her touch warm against my skin. The kiss deepened slightly, then ended, both of us breathing a little faster than before.
She was smiling when we separated. Bright. Open. Happy in a way that seemed almost fragile.
My chest ached with something I hadn't expected. Not strategy. Not protection instincts. Just... feeling. Real, complicated, terrifying feeling for this girl who organized everything and hid her insecurities behind perfect planning.
"Best first date ever," she said.
"The bar was that low?"
She swatted my arm. "Don't ruin it."
I walked her to her door at nine, well within curfew. Sheriff Forbes watched from the window, expression unreadable but attention sharp.
Caroline squeezed my hand on the porch. "Same time next week?"
"I'll pick you up."
She went inside, and I walked back to my truck feeling simultaneously happy and terrified.
Forty-seven days until Stefan arrives. Less than two months until Damon might target her.
The protection plan accelerated in my mind. Vervain. A bracelet or necklace she'd actually wear. Something she'd keep close without knowing why it mattered.
I had to keep her safe. Not just because of what I knew about the future.
Because she was mine now, and I wasn't letting anyone hurt her.
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