Page 36 of Drop Dead Gorgeous

We linger until the wind begins to bite through our coats. At last she rises, brushing grass from her knees before looking back at me with a grin.

"Race you to the fence."

She's already halfway down the hill before I realize she's serious.

I let her gain a head start, then follow, lengthening my stride as she laughs her way through the meadow. I catch her only a few yards before the fence, slowing as we reach the wire together.

I offer my hand.

She takes it without hesitation.

Her fingers are warm despite the cold, and for a long moment neither of us seems inclined to let go.

"I'm really glad you asked me," she says quietly. "I'm usually the one doing the inviting."

"So am I."

She laughs.

"I suppose you are."

We walk back toward town hand in hand until the first rooftops come into view. Only then does she glance up at me and burst into laughter.

"What?"

She points toward my head.

"The crown."

I reach up, discovering I'd completely forgotten it was there.

"People are going to see you."

I look at her.

"Let them."

Her laughter follows us all the way back to Belladonna Blooms.

Inside, she insists on making hot cocoa, gasping dramatically when I admit I've never tasted it. She thrusts the steaming mug into my hands as though correcting a grave injustice, then watches expectantly while I take the first sip.

"Well?"

"It's . . . remarkably good."

"I know."

She smiles with all the satisfaction of someone introducing a friend to a favorite book.

For a little while we simply stand together in the warm little shop while rain taps gently against the windows.

Then she looks up.

"So, Grim . . . what happens next?"

The question catches me off guard.

Not because I don't know where we might go.