Page 110 of Just One Little Bargain

“I just did.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“How does it work?”

“Both parties have to agree.” She tips her head back against my chest to look up at me. There’s a flush high on her cheeks. “You’re supposed to ask.”

“Then I’m asking.”

“Mm.” She lets it hang, lips pressed together against a smile she’s failing to hide. “I’ll allow it. It’s a date.”

Which is the most Evie answer imaginable and also the best thing anyone has ever said to me.

“Generous.”

Making the date official finally gives me enough nerve to reach into my pocket. The boat has been in there all night, poked at periodically, half hoping it would disintegrate.

“I made you something.” I hold it out over her shoulder. “Full disclosure, it’s terrible.”

She takes it carefully, studying it under the string lights. One side rises higher than the other, and the crease is worn thin and pale from all the folding and unfolding I did at the kitchen table when I should have been sleeping.

“You made this for me?”

“I did.”

“Why a boat?”

“Because they travel.” I keep my voice low against her hair. “You set one on the water and it just leaves. Sails off toward whatever’s on the other side of the horizon. I’ve read about them for years. All these people reaching all these wonderful places. I find them fascinating.” I hold her a fraction tighter. “I liked the idea that leaving could be beautiful instead of a punishment.”

She doesn’t say anything for long enough that I start to grieve the whole endeavor. Then she cups the boat in both hands and burrows back into me.

“This is the nicest thing anyone’s given me.”

The sentence makes no sense at first. In Hell, this wouldn’t happen slowly. A gift accepted like that would be treated as intent, and that would become paperwork before anyone had learned much about the other person they were binding themselves to. The rush to claim always seemed wrong to me. I know Evie better than I did two weeks ago, but there are still hundreds of things I don’t know about her, and I want all of them with an embarrassing, inconvenient hunger.

She turns her face just enough to press a kiss to the side of my throat, and I feel her mouth curve there.

My eyes fall shut. There’s only her weight against me and her smile brushing my skin. I lower my face into her hair and forget to hold anything back.

The EMF detector beeps. The sharp tone cuts through every murmured conversation on the path at once, startling the cricket into silence.

I stare down at the device in my hand. It beeps again, louder this time, more insistent.

“Oh.” Priya’s grip on Beck’s arm visibly tightens.

Theo appears at my elbow. “What’d you do? Mine hasn’t done anything. This is so unfair.”

“I didn’t do anything. I’m just standing here.”

“In what exact spot, though? Let me try yours.”

“For the record, they are notoriously susceptible to interference from mobile phones and wristwatches.” Wilfred’s voice is flat.

“I don’t have those,” I say, which is true and also unhelpful.

Beck peers over Priya’s shoulder at me. “Dude, it’s going crazy.”

Of all the devices I’ve been holding quiet tonight, mine is the one that gets away from me. Apparently I can keep my power contained or I can be kissed on the throat, but not both simultaneously.