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“Let me guess, this is the part where you tell me what just happened up in that attic between us was a mistake, and totally out of character, and can’t happen again, right?” he asks, a knowing grin on his lips.
“Nope,” I reply happily, unlacing my boots and getting comfy for the long drive home. “Actually, I was going to say I have special tools back at the museum, we can treat the rust with chemicals and get the contents out without damaging anything.”
Reeve pauses. “So youdon’tthink it was a mistake … and itmighthappen again?” he asks, sounding a little breathless at the idea.
Good.
“Now, why would I tell you that?” I say breezily, curling up in the passenger seat. “A woman needs some mystery, don’t you think?”
And then I drown out his laughter with some classic Fleetwood Mac, turned all the way up. Jake could never stand them, but Reeve sings along, all the way back to Milford Falls.
* * *
We get back early afternoon,after a detour for the best pizza slice around. I’m feeling satisfied as hell as we turn off the highway towards town, but I guess cheesy carbs and a whispering orgasm will do that for a woman.
“Wait a minute,” Reeve slows the car as we pass a wide-open field on the outskirts of town. There are people clustered around, big yellow diggers, and a ton of “keep out” tape. “Is that Jake’s dig?”
I crane my neck to see as we crawl past. The site is a mess, all mud and wet grass and heaping piles of earth like something out of a Wile E. Coyote cartoon. Every single member of the crew looks cold and miserable, bundled up in filthy fleeces, hats pulled down low over their ears. Jake, for his part, is sitting in a director’s chair off to one side, scrolling on his phone.
I beam with delight. “Gee, it doesn’t look like things are going to plan.”
Reeve looks pleased. “That’s what they get for underestimating you.”
Oh.
My stomach does another slow flip, and I have to grip our clue box tighter to keep from reaching for him. It’s not just that he’s toe-curlingly hot—although he is, to be clear, extremely hot right now, with his dark hair and cashmere hoodie and slightly crooked, extremely kissable mouth. It’s the way he seems to have an unshakeable belief in me. Likeof courseI’m capable and cool. Jake never, at any point in our entire relationship, acted like he had that level of faith in me. Even my own self-belief has taken one hell of a shaking, these past couple of years. So to hear Reeve be so matter-of-fact about my skills and expertise …
Be still my heart.
And … other regions, too.
I clear my throat, already wondering how soon is too soon to pick up where we left off in that wardrobe. “I need to grab some things from my office, and check in with Dot,” I tell Reeve, “Want to meet back at my place in a couple of hours, and see what secrets they stashed in this box?”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
He drops me at the museum, and promises to deliver my car safely back to my place – after picking up some supplies, he adds mysteriously. “Sugar-y, caffeinated supplies?” I ask hopefully, and he grins.
“What was that about maintaining mystery?” he reminds me, “It goes both ways.”
I reach to get out of the car, but Reeve stops me. He leans over, and drops a casual kiss on my mouth – slow and easy, like it’s no big deal. “No opening that box without me,” he warns, while I try to remember how to open the damn car door. “This is a group project now.”
A dozen filthy puns run through my mind, but luckily, that kiss has just robbed me of the power of speech, so I manage to slide out of the car and sashay into the museum with my dignity and mystique intact. For now.
I find Dot at the front desk with her Sudoku book, bifocals, and a batch of homemade brownies. “Ivy! I thought it was your day off,” she says, looking weirdly…guilty?
“I won’t be long, just need to grab a few things for a project,” I explain. “Oooh, those look good,” I add, reaching for a brownie.
Dot clears her throat. “You might want to hold off on those,” she says delicately. “If you’re planning any hard work, or … operating heavy machinery.”
“Ah.” I pause.Thosekind of brownies. I think of Reeve. He’s not exactlyheavy, but… I grin, and push the container back. “Maybe not this time.”
Dot studies me, as if reading my mind. “Now that I think about it, you’ve had a certain natural glow lately. Anything to do with that handsome movie director I’ve seen lurking around town?”
“Reeve doesn’t lurk.” I grin. No, he leans, and strolls, and saunters. And looks damn good while doing so.
“Reeve, is it? Good for you.” Dot gives an approving nod. “It’s about time you got back out there. I was going to recommend you try the apps,” she continues brightly. “Bumble is a real drag, but Feeld is good if you’re looking for casual threeways and that ENM business.”
Three-ways?
