Before I could stop it, I blurted out, “Tomorrow. Let’s get lunch.”
A look of sadness crosses her face. “Charlie, tomorrow we’ll both be back in our respective homes.”
“So, let’s meet up. How about Genoa for lunch?”
“In Ridgefield?” Her brow lowers in confusion. “Wait. How do you know Ridgefield?”
“Because I live in Collyer.”
“You do?” At my nod, she sputters, “But…you didn’t say anything when I mentioned I’m an associate professor at UCONN who teaches at the Stamford campus.”
“Go Huskies.” My response is automatic considering several of my “nieces” and “great nieces” have graduated from there. I cringe inside at the insensitivity of not mentioning that either when hurt crosses her lovely face. “Hey, hey. Rhoswen, I meant to tell you.”
Her eyes flick back in my direction. Her disdain aims true when she murmurs, “Was that before or after you trapped my legs to the bed and had me screaming your name?”
Fuck. I reach for her hand, but she jerks it away in a protective gesture I swear she’ll never need ever again. Voice shaking, she asks, “So, what were we? Just a vacation fling?”
“No!” The word is ripped from me. “I was waiting…”
“For what?” She steps back.
I hold out my hand and admit, “There’s a lot about my past I’m not able to share. Not yet anyway.”
Her perfect brow quirks. “And my ancestors are rolling in their grave that I even let you spend a single night in my bed.” After a long hesitation, she reaches her hand out to touch mine briefly. “Why don’t we just take each day as it comes?”
The breath expels from my lungs as I confess, “I’m afraid of messing things up.”
Rhoswen squeezes my fingers, bringing me back into the present and what waits beyond the massive doors. Glancing at her tucked so perfectly at my side, my heart flips over in my chest.
“Maybe walking through those doors won’t be the end of us,” I worry.
Rhoswen laughs, having no idea of the firing squad she’s about to face. “Charlie, you love them and my educated guess is they love you just as much.”
Terrified this might be the last time I get the chance to do so, I pull her into my arms and let her unique wildflower scent comfort me. Just as my heart rate starts to return to something akin to normal, I hear Keene Marshall—the man who single-handedly confirms demons exist, and somehow deserve love—snarks to his best friend, Caleb Lockwood, “And here I thought tonight was going to be dull.”
“It’s never dull when it’s a family dinner, Keene,” Caleb reminds him.
Ain’t that the truth, I think. Just as I’m about to relax a bit and introduce Rhoswen, Keene opens his mouth again. He turns onhis disarming smile and introduces himself. “Keene Marshall. Welcome to chaos.”
Rhoswen lets out a soft laugh before accepting his hand. “Rhoswen Campbell. And thank you, but I’m used to chaos.”
Caleb, the meddling bastard, can’t leave well enough alone. After introducing himself, he inveigles what Rhoswen does for a living. I know, I’m certain, that by the time we reach the farm table inside, one or both of them will have run a background check on her. But before we move from the entrance, Keene decides he’s not done with me. “In all the years we’ve known you, Charlie, you’ve never brought anyone to family dinner.”
I shove a frustrated hand through my hair. “I thought you being a pain in the ass ended when I left the company.”
Caleb snorts. “Yeah right.”
Rhoswen snaps her fingers. “Oh, you two are the ones who used to be his bosses as well as his family.”
Keene’s face shifts slightly, not so Rhoswen notices but I do. He’s transforming into the predator that, alongside Caleb, built one of the most successful investigation and protection agencies in the United States. I step forward subtly to protect my woman before demanding, “Why can’t you let people be happy?”
Caleb shrugs. “It’s called being protective.”
Rhoswen cocks her head to the side before delivering her initial opinion. “I like it. They love you as much as you do them, Charlie.”
Keene’s eyes gleam, even in the twilight. “I’m glad you recognize that Rhoswen, because I have a feeling once you walk through the doors behind me, every single person inside is going toassume you are here to announce you’re about to become the next Mrs. Charles Henderson.”
Rhoswen blushes prettily just as the door opens and I know we’re cursed because Phillip Freeman-Ross demands, “Is Charlie bringing fresh blood to sacrifice?”