Page 132 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

“No. I would rather change doesn’t arrive wearing my name tag.”

That was fair. Annoyingly so.

I nodded. “Very well. I’ll be careful.”

Her expression softened. “I believe you.”

The trust in that sentence carried more responsibility than any objection would have.

Max rolled onto one hip and groaned, exhausted and content. The sound eased something in both of us, and Quinn reached over to rub his belly.

For a while, we let the quiet hold.

Then she looked around the clearing and said, “You know, for an outing that began at a public dog park, this has become suspiciously romantic.”

I looked at her.

“Picnic in an empty field during golden hour.” She gestured toward Max. “Very relaxed chaperone.”

“I hadn’t planned it as a date.”

“I know. I’m only checking whether I’ve accidentally taken over your entire Saturday. Do you have somewhere else to be tonight?”

“No.”

She picked at a blade of grass. “Do you date?”

The question was still light enough to retreat from, but only just.

“Not often.”

Her gaze moved to mine. “Have you ever dated someone seriously?”

I considered several evasions I had used successfully before.

“My reputation is less interesting than people assume,” I said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“No.”

She waited.

I looked over at Max, who was now sleeping beside the branch he had conquered. The field shone in late afternoon light, the mushroom ring pale beneath the birches. Quinn sat beside me in the grass, her auction outfit safely folded in the van, her hair loosened by the breeze, her attention patient in a way that didn’t demand but didn’t disappear either.

“No, I haven’t,” I said at last. “Not seriously.”

She absorbed that. “Because you didn’t want to?”

“Wanting is not difficult.”

Her gaze shifted to mine. I regretted the sentence immediately, not because it was untrue, but because truth had become too easy around her.

I took a breath. “My life has never felt arranged to make room for someone who didn’t already belong to it.”

Quinn’s face changed, the ever-present humor in her eyes going quiet. “That sounds lonely.”

“It’s not intended to be.”