He came through the doorway in dark jeans, boots dusted with snow, and a black winter coat that did rude things to his shoulders. Snow clung to his dark hair and melted along the stubble at his jaw. He carried a paper takeout bag in one hand and a flat package under his other arm.
I tightened my grip on the frame before I remembered I was a grown professional.
Dex took in the lights, the framed designs, and the tattoo chair under my lamp. His gaze came back to me, slow and warm enough to put heat under my skin.
"You did it," he said.
"I supervised very hard," Crystal said from the desk.
Dex glanced at her. "I believe that."
"You should. I've got checklists."
"She has so many checklists," I said. "I'm considering calling someone."
"I brought food," Dex said.
"That offer is accepted. You may stay."
He set the bag on the counter, then leaned down and kissed me like he hadn't seen me twelve hours ago, when I'd left his house wearing one of his thermal shirts under my coat and carrying a duffel I still hadn't unpacked.
The kiss stayed warm, not hot enough to scandalize the unopened aftercare cards, but enough to make Crystal clear her throat with theatrical dignity.
"Some of us are maintaining a professional workplace," she said.
I rested my hand on Dex's chest and faced her. "Some of us made out with a bounty hunter before we had a business license. Standards have been flexible for months."
Dex's mouth twitched against my temple.
Crystal pointed her pen at me. "The same person also got the business license, the sales tax permit, and the appointment deposit policy finished while you argued with a wreath."
"The wreath started it."
"The wreath had no position."
"It had an attitude."
Dex picked up the takeout bag. "I'm staying out of this."
"You're a smart man," Crystal said.
His eyes flicked to me. "I'm learning."
The bell over the door trembled once as the wind pushed at the glass. Snow slid in thin white lines past the window. Across the street, holiday lights wrapped a lamppost, and the town seemed softer than it had any right to after everything summer had done to us.
Crystal's phone buzzed beside her laptop.
She glanced down, and the smile that touched her face wasn't for me, Dex, or a spreadsheet.
I saw it before she tucked the phone facedown.
I drew breath.
Crystal lifted one finger without looking up. "No."
"I didn't say anything."
"You inhaled like you were about to become unbearable."
