Page 94 of When Love Takes Root

I smiled, just enough. “And I do want you, Celeste.”

Her lashes fluttered, but she held my gaze. “I know.”

“Good.”

“You always this direct?”

“When clarity is merciful.”

That made her still.

I stepped closer, slow enough for her to step back if she needed to.

She didn’t.

The shop felt different around us. The front lights glowed over clean stations and polished mirrors. The back wall sat open, wiring exposed, old danger being pulled apart and made honest. It felt too fitting to ignore. Here we were, standing between what had been damaged and what was being repaired, trying to decide if the next thing between us could be built without burning somebody’s peace down.

I looked toward the open wall, then back at her. “You know what bad wiring and grief have in common?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Is this about to be one of your sexy science lessons?”

I laughed lowly. “Sexy?”

“You heard me.”

“Yes, ma’am, I did.”

Her smile touched her eyes for the first time since I’d walked in.

I took that as mercy.

“Bad wiring and grief can both function for a while. Everything looks fine until something starts flickering.” I held her gaze. “I’m not scared of what flickers in you.”

She whispered, “That’s not fair.”

I frowned slightly. “What?”

“You can’t say stuff like that and expect me to keep standing here like I’m fine.”

I breathed out a laugh, but my chest was too full for it to carry much sound. “I don’t expect you to be fine.”

“No?”

“No. I expect you to be honest.”

She stared at me, then nodded. “I’m scared.”

“I know.”

“I like you.”

“I know that too.”

Her mouth opened, and a laugh slipped out through tears. “You know everything, huh?”

“No, ma’am. Just paying attention.”

Her eyes narrowed a little, but her smile stayed. “You’re too smooth.”