Page 69 of Fresh Old Bounties

He squeezed my hand. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

Wistfulness filled me. “I came to terms with Grandma’s death a long time ago. I’ll be okay. Thanks for asking.”

He lifted my hand to place a kiss on it, as if to remind me that no thanks were necessary. Not between us.

Sadly, no more kissing followed. We finished the pizza and our drinks, then returned inside to clean up.

To my surprise, Ian asked if I minded if the dogs stayed upstairs with us.

“With us?” I repeated blankly.

“Do you have extra blankets?” he added unhelpfully.

“Uh.”

“I’ll stay in your living room.”

“Uhh.”

His eyebrows made perfect arches. “I assume you still don’t have a sofa? I’d rather have something between me and the floor.”

I swallowed hard. “You’re spending the night?”

“I’m not leaving you alone tonight. The man might have an accomplice ready to attempt another go at the spellbook.”

“Thank you. You can, uh…” My ears were burning now. “We can share the bed.”

He gave me a quick kiss. “I don’t mind the floor. You take the bed.”

Dazed, I retrieved some blankets from the landing’s closet and handed them over, then watched him prepare a makeshift bed in my empty living room, put out water for the dogs in the kitchen, and lie down on the blankets without bothering to undress.

An hour later, as I lay on my bed, unable to sleep and staring at the wall separating the bedroom from the living room, I still didn’t know what to make of it. A sign of respect? A decision to take things slow for his sake as much as mine? A lack of interest?

Whatever it was, I couldn’t figure out if I was relieved or disappointed in his decision, but part of me insisted this was such a missed opportunity, and that part was making me sad.

No opportunity is missed. They simply reform into new ones.

Still…

So much for only one bed.

The soft murmur of rain woke me up the next morning before my phone did. That, and the noise of water splashing in the bathroom sink.

Goldfish ghost?

No, it was a kraken, and?—

I sat up with a snap. Ian!

Shoving the covers aside, I stumbled out of bed and onto the landing. Ian stood in my bathroom in all his shirtless glory.

Hard pectorals and hard biceps with a scattering of small, old scars. Forearms.

My mouth went dry. I had seen Ian shirtless before, and the sight never ceased to impress.

No opportunity is missed, I reminded myself. See? Now you get to have this forever burned into your memory.

“Good morning,” he said.

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