Page 102 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

I smiled politely. Bright. Warm. Harmless.

His grin widened.

"Out shopping, Seraphina?"

"It's Miss Calloway."

The correction slipped from my lips as gently as pouring tea. Not angry. Not embarrassed. Simply... accurate. For the briefest moment something flickered behind his eyes. Annoyance but it was gone almost before it arrived.

"Miss Calloway," he repeated smoothly. "Old habits."

Funny. We'd never had habits.

"I didn't expect to see you in town after the storm."

"A kitchen doesn't stock itself."

"No," he chuckled. "I suppose not."

His eyes drifted over me. Not my face. My hands. My shoulders. The oversized blue jersey hanging almost to my thighs. His gaze lingered a second longer than necessary before returning to my eyes. People who think they're subtle usually aren't.

"The roads were pretty rough coming down."

"They survived."

"So did you."

"I usually do."

His smile held. Mine stayed exactly where I'd left it. There was a strange little silence. Not uncomfortable. Measured. Like two chess players pretending they weren't already counting moves ahead.

Then…

He stepped closer. Barely half a step. Enough that his polished boot crossed an invisible line I'd drawn without realizing it.

"So..."

His voice lowered.

"I've been thinking."

That sentence has never ended well. It probably hurted his brain a bit too.

"You've lived up here by yourself for a while now."

"I have."

"It gets lonely."

"I like being lonely."

He laughed softly.

"I don't believe that."

"I wasn't asking you to."

His jaw flexed almost imperceptibly. Another tiny crack.