Page 67 of Blood and Buttercups

Because the idea of that sounds a little too appealing, I nudge the conversation toward her appointment with Alessio.

She’s happy to be distracted by the handsome masseur, and I’m happy to let her carry the conversation.

“So anyway, he’s not dating anyone right now,” Olivia says. “But I’m too chicken to ask him out.”

“Alessio is fun, for sure, but do you really want to date a guy who has his hands on other women every day?”

“He’s totally professional,” she argues.

“I know. I just?—”

I’m cut off by a knock at the new front door Max and Noah just replaced. Olivia and I both freeze, our eyes locked like we’re five and playing a staring game.

“Is that Noah?” she mouths.

I shake my head and whisper, “I gave him a key.”

So it must be someone else.

Maybe someone fanged.

Again, I remind myself Ethan said he wasn’t going to visit me until I was ready. But what if he came by for a quick bite? You know, to hurry me along to Stage Two? If he’s keeping tabs on me, he would know Noah isn’t here right now.

And then I hear voices from the front step—and one of them is Noah’s. Relief crashes over me like a tidal wave, and I slump against the couch.

Not even a minute later, my conservator opens the door with the key I gave him.

“Who was that?” I ask Noah, looking past him to the dusky front yard.

“A guy wanting to sell you solar panels. You need a no soliciting sign.”

Olivia eyes Noah’s duffle bag and stands. “Okay, well…I’m gonna go.” She grabs her purse and edges toward the door. “You guys have fun.”

I shoot her a look, and she gives me a pixie grin. With a wave, she’s gone.

Noah locks the door behind her and then looks back. “What was that about?”

“Secret babies, self-defense, and my snacking habits.”

Looking mystified, Noah shakes his head like he doesn’t want to know. “Where’s my room?”

“Upstairs. I washed the sheets, so it’s all ready for you.”

“I would have helped you make the bed.”

“I thought you were only around to pull the wagon, make sure I take my blood, and keep my stalker away.”

Noah follows me as I start up the stairs. “I can add bed-related duties to my resume.”

Grinning because he can’t see me, I say, “You’re slightly more roguish than I first realized.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The stairway opens to a den that still houses Max’s pool table because he doesn’t have room for it at his place. The master bedroom is off to the right, and two more rooms, along with a guest bath, are down a hall to the left. One room has a bed. The other doesn’t.

“What is all this?” Noah asks, pausing outside the one that doesn’t.

“It’s my seed-starting room,” I say. “Since it’s in the house, I don’t have to heat my greenhouse when I start seeds in the middle of winter.”

---