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“Too close to the flames,” he said. “You’re likely to get burned. Although, perhaps a bit of danger is welcome?”

I shot to my feet. “You’re doing this on purpose!”

He erupted into laughter, clutching at his sides. “You held out longer than I thought you would, grá.”

“You’re a brute.”

“Aye,” he said, still laughing. “But you look lovely with all that color on your face. I can’t regret it entirely.”

I gaped at him. I didn’t know what to say. Words failed me. I closed the book and marched out of the sitting room and up the steps. My hands shook around the banister and Wolfe caught my eye.

He grinned up at me, hands on his hips. He winked only once, the outline of him beginning to fade.

“Sweet dreams, Avery Eden,” he called, voice still wavering with humor.

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. “Good night, you absolute terror.”

His laughter haunted me into my room and into bed. It was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep and when I dreamt, I dreamt of him. His hands on my skin, his mouth at my throat.

The rain finally broke on Thursday.

I didn’t touch the romance book again, and Wolfe didn’t ask.

He smirked at me over breakfast that morning, untouched cup of tea by his elbow.

“Don’t,” I warned, cheeks still scalding.

He held up his hands innocently. “I didn’t say anything at all.”

I glared at him and his breathy laughter sank into me. I ignored him, choosing to focus on making another cup of tea instead.

“I wish I could make it,” he said softly, watching me add my cream and sugar.

“Why?” I asked. “Even if you weren’t here I’d still be the one making it.”

“But I am here,” he countered. “I’m right here.”

I bit down my reply, struck by the weight of his words.

“One day,” I said, though we both knew the promise was empty.

“Perhaps,” he said, and turned his attention to the gray sky outside. “We should leave this place today. Get some air.”

“And do what?”

“You still haven’t had your Guinness. It’s a fine day for a drink.”

“In the afternoon?” I asked hesitantly.

“Are you on the clock?” he asked. The words were a challenge. “There are always a million reasons not to do something, Avery.”

What was I waiting for? It was a deeper rooted problem, I was sure. Back in New York, I wouldn’t have hesitated. I’ve sat at plenty of bars alone and had a cocktail while watching the room. I used to write it out like a scene, describing the angles of the room, the couples, the way the light caught the stemware just right and created diamonds. I would go home, head and heart full, and weave it into my books.

Now, that voice was silent.

“Besides, I’ll be right there with you.”

He meant it as a bolster, a balm, but it ached. He would be beside me, but not…not in a tangible way. I could see him but the rest of the room could not. He couldn’t drink with me. Couldn’t…