Page 55 of Woods of the Raven

“Oooh, seven years, how terrible.”

“It’s a valid question. You could have anyone with how smart and beautiful you are, so why in the world—”

“You’re brave and gorgeous and perceptive,” I blurted out. “Anyone with a brain would want you, Chief MacBain.”

He only stared at me.

“What?”

“You mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course.” I had to wonder when and how he’d imagined he wasn’t the kind of man anyone would want.

“Swear you forgive me,” he grumbled under his breath and took a step closer so he was staring down into my eyes. “I wanna go back to how it was before I thought something stupid.”

“That was stupid,” I agreed, putting my hands on his hips. “And for whatever reason, I didn’t really see you until you were in my house that day, and I’m sorry. I missed that there was interest in you stopping me all those times and acting like an idiot.”

“I didn’t say I was an idiot,” he apprised me as I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I…I just wanted you to see me, is all,” he finished, his voice going out on him.

“Well, I see you very clearly,” I assured him before taking his mouth.

It was a very good kiss.

SIX

After Lorne promised we’d be back in time for the spaghetti that took over an hour to make, we got into his SUV, which was cold as ice but warmed up fast even in the small amount of time it took us to travel such a short distance.

As expected, Declan’s shop was open, even though it was close to eight thirty at night and almost everything else downtown was closed, the sidewalks usually rolling up around seven. Normally, only Bread & Butter, the diner, stayed open until ten, as well as Cinerama, the movie theater that only had one area and was honestly more of a large living room with chairs, recliners, love seats, and couches. But from what I heard during the day at the festival, Declan’s stall had been a success, so it appeared he was trying to capitalize on that and would stay open to the later hour as well.

When Lorne and I walked into the bakery and sandwich shop, it was like one of those horrible moments in movies where the whole place got quiet and everyone turned to look. Lorne was about to greet the silent crowd—I could tell from the way he squared his shoulders—so I took hold of his arm, walked us around to the end of the counter where the orders were picked up, and asked the young woman there if I could please speak to her boss.

It was like the dam broke, and suddenly there was noise again from every part of the restaurant as the young woman replied that yes, he was in his office, and pointed.

“Now you’ve done it,” Lorne said, chuckling as he followed me to the door and then through. “People are gonna talk.”

“Oh, they were going to do that anyway,” I assured him, “hence the looks of stunned awe accompanied by quiet. Now they have a better idea of what’s going on.”

“And what’s going on?” he wanted to know.

“I would hope that after you come home with me tonight—”

“Am I still doing that?” he teased me, but when I checked, his eyes betrayed him. He’d been worried I’d changed my mind.

“Yes,” I said firmly, hoping to kill his uncertainty as I shot him a look that conveyed how not funny he was. “Aren’t you?”

“That was my plan, yes, but I wasn’t sure if you still—”

“Yes, I very much still want that,” I told him.

He slipped his hand around the side of my neck, and the warmth was instantly comforting.

I said, “And then after that, if all goes well…”

“All will go very well,” he assured me.

“You’re very confident.”

“I’m cautiously optimistic.” He eased me toward him. “And hopeful.”