“There’s a lovely historical place downtown,” she’d said earlier that week after agreeing to my thank-you outing. “Very old-fashioned. Wonderful music.”
That shouldn’t have made me so nervous, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to a place with a bar and live music. I already felt out of my element. Then again, the woman could probably ask me to investigate a haunted penitentiary, and I’d still say yes before common sense caught up.
The second I opened the front door, I forgot every coherent thought I’d ever had.
Winnie was dressed in dark emerald instead of black, the porch light illuminating her. Her dress fit close through the waist before falling softly below the knee, elegant and understated except for the neckline, which?—
Shit.
I’d always known Winnie was curvy. I wasn’t blind. But Winnie usually dressed like she was actively evading both sunlight and human perception. High collars. Layers. Gloves. Dramatic coats.
Tonight there was skin. Just enough exposed collarbone and cleavage to completely derail my nervous system.
And her eyes.
God, her eyes were stunning without the giant sunglasses hiding them. Light green with those gold flecks catching the light. That was what I should focus on.
Unfortunately, my brain remained catastrophically aware of her breasts. Was her cleavage casting a spell on me? I was fighting for my life, trying not to stare directly at it.
“Conrad?”
I blinked furiously.
She was smiling at me, clearly trying not to laugh. “You appear to have left your body briefly.”
“I—” Excellent start. I cleared my throat. “You look…”
Sexy. Beautiful. Like the beginning of several very bad decisions.
“…really nice,” I finished weakly.
Her lips parted, her gaze losing its sharp, teasing edge. “So do you.”
I became acutely aware that I’d spent twenty minutes deciding between two nearly identical coats. Worth it.
Winnie’s hair was loose tonight instead of pinned back, the red waves spilling over her shoulders.
And God help me, I was trying so hard to behave normally.
“You’re not wearing sunglasses,” I blurted.
Really smooth, Conrad. Devastatingly suave.
Winnie laughed. “Itisnighttime.”
“Right. Yes. That does track.”
Before I could continue humiliating myself, Lady Ferdinand appeared from around the corner, carrying a teacup.
“Well, there she is. Hello, Winifred,” she announced, her voice instantly dropping its grand, formal edge for a tone of genuine, maternal tenderness.
The transformation in Winnie was immediate. The careful, guarded posture she usually maintained around the rest of the world completely vanished, her face lighting up with a brilliant, unfiltered warmth. “Lady Ferdinand.”
To my surprise, they didn’t just exchange a polite greeting; they stepped into a tight embrace. Lady Ferdinand set her teacup down on the hall table with a quick click and wrapped both arms around Winnie, pulling her close. Winnie clung to her for a long beat, burying her face against the older woman’s shoulder as if it were the safest place on earth.
“It’s so lovely to see you, dear. You look beautiful,” Lady Ferdinand said as they parted, her hands resting on Winnie’s shoulders. She reached up, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind Winnie’s ear with an easy familiarity. “How are you keeping? Is that drafty little cottage of yours still freezing you out? I told you years ago we should have had the floors insulated.”
A soft laugh, filled with fondness, escaped Winnie. “I’m doing very well these days, thank you. The fireplace keeps it perfectly cozy.”
