Page 74 of Dreamscape Therapies

His eyes immediately drift over me, lingering long enough that I know exactly what he's thinking about. My face heats when I remember the dream and the ridiculous blue lace my subconscious apparently decided I should be wearing.

Who knew I would be so into that?

"Morning, Jagiya."

"Would you like to discuss last night's dream?" he asks, his grin slowly becoming more mischievous. "Or maybe why you let me stay the night? Or why I woke up to you staring at me this morning?"

I sigh dramatically and cover my face with both hands, feeling the heat crawl all the way up my neck.

"We definitely should talk about everything," I admit. "More specifically, we should talk about the fact that I'm having a very difficult time remaining objective when it comes to you."

I lower my hands and give him a serious look.

"I barely even noticed that the dream didn't devolve into another tangled mess of yarn because I was so distracted by..." I gesture vaguely toward him. "All of that."

His eyebrows lift.

"I haven't seen it since you confronted it."

"Mmm."

I sit down across from him, thinking about that.

The problem definitely isn't resolved. The weaver may not have appeared last night, but that doesn't mean she's gone, and Vincent shouldn't have to spend every night wondering when she'll return. We need to figure out what comes next. We need information, a plan, and preferably a solution that doesn't involve Vincent being terrorized every time he closes his eyes.

But first, I need caffeine.

By the time we've showered and gotten ourselves downstairs, blueprints are spread across the kitchen island, held down by coffee mugs and a tape measure. Jared leans over one side of the plans, his long blond hair tied neatly at the nape of his neck, while Malek stands across from him, scribbling measurements onto a clipboard and occasionally pushing a strand of dark hair behind one pointed ear.

Both men look up when Vincent and I walk into the kitchen.

"Morning, Doc," Jared says with his usual easy smile. "We were hoping we'd catch you. Didn't realize you had a sleepover last night."

My face immediately flames at the insinuation, and Vincent looks suspiciously amused.

I can't exactly argue with him, either.

"You still haven't approved the stonework for the front porch," Jared continues, mercifully changing the subject.

"Yes. I know. I'm sorry." I pour myself a cup of coffee, grateful for something to do with my hands. "I've been a little distracted lately."

"I bet," Jared says with a chuckle.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Vincent stiffen.

A low rumble rolls through the kitchen.

Everyone freezes.

Slowly, all three of us look at Vincent.

"Did you just growl at Jared?" I ask.

"Nope."

His answer comes far too quickly.

"I think you did, mate," Jared says, one perfect blond eyebrow lifting.