It was only a matter of time before Vatii’s warnings caught up to him.
One day during his lunch, when Briar and Rowan were busily testing how robust his kitchen table was, a knock came at the shop door. Half-dressed and pink-cheeked, they scrambled to pull pants on and arrange their hair so it didn’t look quite so… pulled. Neither had caught their breath by the time Briar opened the door to find Linden there.
“Briar. It’s been some time. I thought I’d pop in, if you don’t mind?”
Vatii, who’d been watching the shop while he “fraternized” upstairs, bored holes into Briar with her gaze. Rowan pretended to peruse the rack of clothes.
“Ah, you have a customer,” said Linden. “I can return later.”
“It’s no bother, I was just on my way,” Rowan said quickly. He inclined his head to Briar. “Be seeing you.”
Linden watched him go with a peculiar, pinched expression. “Are you two familiar?”
Briar tried not to lethowfamiliar show on his face. “Yeah, we’re friends.”
“Ah. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he has a strange way about him, the alderman.”
“O-oh?”
“You haven’t noticed, then? Ah, it doesn’t matter. Please, tell me how you’ve been.”
“Great! I finished taking in your clothes. Let me run and grab them.”
“Shall I come up?”
“No! No, the flat’s a mess.” Really, Briar didn’t want Linden sitting at the table he had just been bent over.
He came down moments later with the garments folded over one arm. He’d ironed the trousers into a neat pleat and ensured no loose threads hung on. The clothes gave off an airy, esoteric scent as Briar held them out.
“They’re very fine,” Linden said. “I can’t thank you enough for putting your time into this. You’ve a rare talent.”
Briar preened under the compliment. “You think so?”
“Yes. Perhaps it’s superstitious of me, but it seems fortuitous that we should meet like this.” Linden’s keen, crystalline stare pinned Briar to the spot. He reached out and touched the back of Briar’s hand with feather-light fingers. “I wondered if you’d join me for a drink tonight? To celebrate the completion of this project.”
Briar’s throat went dry. “I’d love that.”
Beside them, Vatii shuffled back and forth on the countertop. He understood her disconcertion. If this was a date, it would be best to clear that up right away.
Linden took the hangers of clothes, folding them over his arm. “I still haven’t thought of an event to wear this to, but I will. See you tonight?”
“Tonight,” Briar confirmed dizzily.
“I look forward to it.”
Linden turned to go. Before he reached the door, Briar summoned his courage to ask the question he didn’t really want to know the answer to. “So, is this a date?”
Linden turned by a degree, looking over one shoulder. “Let’s call it a precursor.”
After the door shut behind him, Vatii broke her edgy silence. “What the bloody hell does that mean?!”
Briar didn’t know. He’d never been on a “precursor” date, whatever that was, and it did not clear up the difficulty this presented. If Linden was courting him seriously, then Briar had every obligation to break things off with Rowan. If Linden only wanted a casual affair, that was another thing altogether and would require a different conversation about exclusivity or lack thereof. What the hell could he infer from a “precursor,” though?
It was frustrating. Not least of all because the longer he thought about it, and the more Vatii badgered him, the stronger the realization was: he didn’t want to be courted. At least, not right now. Not yet.
He and Rowan were having fun, and with work stealing so much of his energy, he’d come to prize their time together. Time was something he had little in reserve, but still…
He didn’t want it to end so quickly.
