“We’re here,” Derrick murmured.
I shifted deeper into the cushioned seat. “Five more minutes.” My eyes felt grainy and heavy-lidded as I peeked beneath my lashes. I must’ve fallen asleep while waiting at the agency. The last thing I remembered was him running inside to collect the wine stem.
A sliver of moonlight poured through the window, splashing across his shoulders and the white sleeves of his shirt. Wasn’t he wearing a jacket before? The weight of it registered in my mind. He’d draped it over me, and I currently had it pulled up to my chin, collar clutched tight in my fists. It smelled pleasant, so I inhaled a deep breath.
Derrick leaned forward, the moonlight revealing his features, and tugged the edge of his jacket over the exposed area on my arm. “I know you’re awake.”
I let out a slow breath. “Good detective work. What gave me away?”
“Years of training and a finely tuned sense of others.”
“So modest and impressive,” I drawled. “You can’t blame me, you were inside the agency for a long time.”
“My superior wanted an update. I filled him in on Bradford’s account and mentioned we’re looking into the possibility Ella was poisoned. I came back to get you, but you’d already fallen asleep.”
Maybe he did have a finely tuned sense of others. I felt completely drained. The coat sagged as I straightened in the seat. I offered it to him, but he gave a subtle shake of his head.
“Keep it. It’s cold.” He opened the door, and a blast of night air confirmed the frigid temperature. I wrapped his coat tighter around my body and followed him out of the carriage.
Inside the magic shop, I lit the lamp wicks, and the flames glowed over worn books and clay pots. Placing one of the lamps on the workbench, I swept aside sprigs of herbs and dried leaves, careful not to scatter them on the floor. The chill from outside had made its way indoors, so Derrick coaxed a fire to life. Soon, the burning logs snapped and cracked in waves of heat.
He held his palms over the flames and rubbed his fingers together, a small shiver shaking his shoulders. I glanced at his discarded coat and felt a twinge in my chest. He’d been cold on the ride over and hadn’t said a word.
“You can put the wine stem on the table. I need to collect a few things before we get started.” I slipped away before he could respond, hoping the unheated air from the supply room would clear my head.
As usual, I was overreacting, latching onto acts of kindness and making them more than they were. So what if Derrick had given me his coat? It was the gentlemanly thing to do, the bedrock of chivalry, and I’d already established he was an overachiever. It didn’t make me special. Still, his gestures went to my head like champagne bubbles and made my stomach fizz. Better not to get addicted. Too much champagne made a person ill.
In the storeroom, I surveyed the shelves. The floor-to-ceiling nook was a shabby shrine to my mother. I’d tried to keep her organizational system, remembering she’d spent hours cataloging the powders and liquids and recording their uses in thick ledgers at her feet. But over the years, my special brand of chaos had seeped in around the edges, and now, the catalog didn’t match the inventory.
My fingers grazed wistfully over the vials, searching for one in particular. I ducked beneath a bundle of herbs hanging from the ceiling. The bouquet swayed around my ears, filling my nose with the soothing scent of lavender.
“Where is it?” I whispered, standing on my toes. Dust left filthy smudges on my fingertips, and cobwebs created a wispy barrier to the jars in the back. Plunging my hand through the sticky threads, I prayed its occupant was visiting a neighbor’s web and felt around until I grasped a glass container with a raised symbol.
“Gotcha.” I hesitated, jar in hand, listening for sounds in the other room. Left to my own devices, I’d discovered secrets in Derrick’s office. Was he doing the same now, sifting through my things and making judgments? His attitude during our first meeting still stung, and even though it seemed like he was coming around, I couldn’t dismiss the hurt that had burrowed deep inside my chest.
When I reentered, I found him leaning against the workbench, arms casually folded over his chest and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked relaxed, almost in his element. If he had searched, he’d done so quickly and had the wherewithal not to get caught. Smart man.
Derrick watched me cross the room, seeming to capture every nuance of my journey.
“I thought I’d find you snooping in my cupboards the moment I left you alone.”
He angled his head, and a lock of dark hair fell over his eye. He had no interest in searching my shop. Whatever secrets he might unearth, he’d discover them by studying me.
“Were you testing me?”
“Perhaps, but I wasn’t worried. Witches don’t hide dead bodies in their cupboards.”
“If I remember correctly, there weren’t any in your basement either.”
“That’s because I only keep them there in emergencies.”
He gave a half-smile at my answer. There was something in his tone, a hint of mischief that made those champagne bubbles fizz in my stomach again. The candlelight flickered over his features, and I admired the hard lines of his jaw, the way his lips moved, and the low rumble of his voice.
What was wrong with me?
Dropping my gaze to my feet, I mentally cursed. It wasn’t every day—or any day at all—that a tall, dark, and handsome detective occupied my shop, but this was no excuse to go all swoony. Derrick’s fondness for doling out fines was partly responsible for the mess I was in, and here I was letting myself be charmed by him. Maybe some things were inevitable.
Yeah, right. The only thing inevitable was my debt coming due at the end of the month.
