Page 104 of The Devil of Downtown

“You know,” she says, watching me with a soft smile, “I haven’t seen him look this... settled. Or this happy. Not in a long time.”

A quiet flutter stirs in my chest, so tender it almost aches.

I glance toward the kitchen, hearing the clink of glass as he moves around.

“I’m happy, too,” I admit, the truth slipping out before I can tame it.

Charlotte’s smile widens. “Good,” she murmurs. “He deserves that.”

And for the first time since stepping into Dane’s world...

I start to feel like I might actually belong.

“You know,” she adds, a thoughtful smile on her face. “I’m going to go now, give you two some space.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” I’m quick to say.

“I’ve got a long drive ahead of me, anyway. I’ll go tell Dane.” She surprises me, reaching over for a hug, holding me for a second before she lets go. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be seeing you again, Ivy.”

“I hope so,” I manage as she pulls herself to her feet. “Oh, and sorry about wearing your clothes,” I laugh, half-embarrassed, thumbing her fleece.

“Damn,” she smiles back. “I thought it looked familiar. Any time.”

I hear laughter and a few quiet mumbles as she says goodbye to Dane.

The door clicks softly behind him before he returns a moment later, a glass of red wine in hand. The firelight catches on the glass as he crosses to me and sets it gently on the low table in front of the sofa before sinking down beside me.

“I didn’t scare her off, I promise,” I say, trying for lightness even though my voice tightens a little with nerves.

His mouth lifts just enough to count as a smile. “It’s fine. I would’ve done it, anyway.”

“She’s great,” I insist, curling my legs beneath me. “I really like her.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, eyes softening in a way he probably doesn’t notice, “me too.”

I take a sip of the wine, letting the warmth settle in my chest before glancing at his empty hands. “You’re not drinking?”

“I am.” He pushes to his feet. “I prefer whiskey.”

He crosses to the bar in the corner, shoulders broad enough to blot out half the fire as he selects a bottle and pours himself a measure. When he returns, he pauses by the hearth, bending down to stoke the fire; the flames leap higher, heat blooming across the room, brushing my skin as he straightens.

He joins me on the sofa again, and for a while we just sit there, drinking in the warmth of the fire and the wine. I lift the glass for another sip, and his gaze drops.

“You’ve got wine here,” he says. His thumb drags over my lip, slow enough to feel deliberate, his eyes staying on mine the whole time.

Somewhere nearby, a phone starts buzzing. He ignores it, reaching for the bottle to top up my glass. The sound cuts out for a beat, then starts up again, more insistent.

Julian’s name flashes across the screen just as Dane is pouring me more wine. He mutters something under his breath and answers.

“Where the hell are you?” Julian snaps loud enough for me to hear.

“I’m out of the city,” Dane says, leaning back on the sofa, tone flat.

“You’re kidding. We’re supposed to have dinner with the Bexleys in—”

“No,” Dane cuts him off. “I’m spending all day in meetings with them tomorrow. I’m not giving them my evening too.”

Julian groans dramatically. “You’re ditching me to babysit the Bexleys alone?”