Denzel slowed the car to a stop. Juniper peered out the window, unfastening her seatbelt as she looked at the isolated one-story building ahead. It looked completely deserted.
"Where are we? What is this place?" she asked.
"Let's get out first," he said.
They climbed out of the car, and Denzel locked it, tucking the keys into his pocket. As they walked toward the building, he reached out and took her hand. The sudden contact jolted her, and she looked up to meet his gaze.
"Have you ever done pottery?" he asked.
"Never," Juniper replied.
"Then it'll be more fun," he said with a smile.
Juniper glanced down at her pristine white outfit, her brow furrowing. "I'm wearing white, Denzel. You should have told me we were doing pottery. I would have worn something darker."
"Don't worry," he assured her. "They provide protective gear, aprons that cover you entirely. But if you'd rather not do this today, just say the word. We can always come back another time."
