“You were staring.”
“I was observing. There’s a difference.”
She set a notebook down on the nearest table. “Is there?”
“Staring is rude,” I said. “Observing is thoughtful. Completely different thing.”
Her mouth curved. She turned back to the shelf, but I caught the edge of the smile she was trying to contain, and something settled in my chest, easy and uncomplicated.
I dried off the last of the glasses and leaned back against the counter, looking at the room. The shop had come back to itself—still warm, still good, but quieter now, more ordinary. All those people, all that noise and laughter, and the energy of a room full of people working through a puzzle together, and now just this. The flameless candles. The lavender. The scattered evidence of an evening that had gone exactly the way she’d hoped it would.
“You did good tonight,” I said.
She looked up from the shelf.
“Seriously.” I crossed my arms loosely. “I had no idea I’d enjoy something like this as much as I did. Didn’t figure out who did it until the last clue.” I paused. “I had a theory about the sister.”
She pressed her lips together. “Everyone had a theory about the sister.”
“Because you wrote her to be suspicious.”
“I wrote everyone to be suspicious. That’s the point.”
“You wrote her to beespeciallysuspicious.” I tilted my head slightly. “That was a deliberate move.”
She looked at me, trying very hard not to be pleased with herself and failing in a way I found entirely too adorable. “Maybe,” she said.
“Good move,” I said. “Just wanted you to know I noticed.”
“Noted.” She turned back to the shelf, and I watched her reach up to straighten the top row, her fingers trailing briefly over the spines before she got to the one she was after. The small, satisfied sound she made when it slid into place was completely unconscious. I was fairly certain she didn’t know she’d made it.
I turned back to the counter and wiped down a spot that was already clean, giving myself something to do with my hands.
I’d been turning something over for the last half hour—since before the evening ended, if I was honest. Since the moment I’d looked up from the table and saw where Eric was standing, I understood in about half a second what was happening. I’dbeen two years ahead of him and Cara at Sweetbriar High School, which meant I hadn’t paid much attention to him then. He’d existed at the edges of things—present, unremarkable, the kind of person who was easy to overlook. I was trying now to remember if there had been anything there, any version of tonight I should’ve been able to predict, and I kept coming up empty. I hadn’t been watching him then. I didn’t like that I hadn’t been watching.
“Eric,” I said, keeping my voice easy. “I remember him from school.” I set the cloth down and looked at her. “Is he always like that with you?”
Cara went still for just a moment—not long, barely a breath—then set down the book in her hand and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. The small delay told me more than the answer probably would. “He’s persistent,” she finally admitted.
“That’s one word for it.”
Her mouth twitched. “I’ve got it handled.”
“I know you do.” I meant that. She’d kept the room together through the whole thing, kept her voice even, hadn’t let a single person in that shop feel the tension she was managing underneath it all. She’d been composed in a way that probably looked effortless to everyone who hadn’t been paying close attention. “You handled yourself tonight. I just—” I stopped, chose my words. “I didn’t love the way he grabbed your wrist.”
She was quiet for a second. Her gaze dropped briefly to where his hand had been and came back up. “That was—” She paused. “That was more than usual.”
I kept my expression neutral. “Has it been going on for a long time?”
“Back in high school, then recently after his divorce.” She said it lightly, as if it were a minor inconvenience, as if it were something she’d simply gotten used to over time and filed under things she managed. That lightness was the part that botheredme most. “It’s fine, Jasper. I know how to handle him. He’s harmless.”
That word didn’t sit right at all. I knew she was downplaying how she felt.Harmless.
I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to stay where I was instead of closing the space between us without thinking. “Can I look?” I asked after a beat, keeping my voice softer now. “Just to make sure he didn’t hurt you.”
Her eyes stayed on mine a second too long, like she was feeling the question rather than just hearing it. I could see the moment she decided she didn’t need to move away from me.
Then she nodded. “Okay.”
