“Now,” he muttered. “What do you want to drink?”
I wasn’t going to win this one. So, I sighed, then said, “A beer sounds good.”
“Then beer it is, beautiful.”
With another brief lip-brush — which, if you wanted my thoughts on the matter, lasted not nearly long enough — he released me from his hold, turned, and strode back to the fridge. He yanked out two bottles of hazy IPA from a local brewery called Notch. I’d walked past it twice on my first day in town, taking notice of the sun-drenched patio full of happy people drinking beer.
Cade popped the caps off the top of our IPAs, then clinked his bottle against mine and took a long sip. I watched him swallow, the cords of his throat at work an oddly mesmerizing sight. When he caught me staring, I quickly averted my eyes and took a long sip of my own.
“I’m going to take Socks out to pee, then I’ll get started on dinner,” he said. “You’re on candy duty.”
“Candy duty?”
He jerked his chin toward the bowl sitting on the kitchen island. It was full of dozens of snack-sized Hershey Bars, Reese’s Cups, Almond Joys, Milky Ways… It seemed he’d purchased every conceivable variety of chocolate on the market. There was enough candy there to supply an army of children.
“Imogen?”
“I’m not sure…” I took another fortifying sip. “I mean, I…”
“Spit it out, Goldie. Socks has no doubt already eaten half the stuffing in that ghost toy, and he’ll continue to do so even if it means having an accident on my floors.”
“Right.” I sucked in a breath. “I’ve never done this before, that’s all. I don’t know the protocol.”
He stared at me. “You’ve never passed out Halloween candy?”
I shook my head.
“It’s pretty self-explanatory,” he said, staring at me like I had a few screws loose. “Just think of the times you went trick-or-treating as a kid, only this time you’re the one opening the door, not knocking on it.”
“But I never—” I clamped my lips shut, changing my mind. I didn’t want to talk about this after all. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.
His voice went quiet. “Never what?”
“Um…”
“Never what, Imogen?”
Damn and blast.
“I never went trick-or-treating,” I admitted in a rush. “Or, if I did, I don’t remember.”
Cade was silent. Emotions flared across his face, but he locked them down into a smooth mask so fast I thought I’d imagined it. He just stood there, expressionless. Waiting for me to explain.
I didn’t plan to tell him. It wasn’t like me to willingly expose myself. But I couldn’t seem to keep the words from spilling out of me, now that I’d started.
“My parents died when I was pretty young and I… It was…” God, why was this so hard to talk about after all these years? “I don’t really know how to explain it… I mean… It’s not…”
“Take your time.”
I sucked in a breath. “I don’t remember them. Not well. I have some memories, but they’ve sort of gone to watercolor with time. Faded out, you know? Until I can’t be sure what’s real and what I imagined.”
Cade was holding himself very still. I got the sense this was intentional — as though he knew, if he came to me now, I’d clam up again. His voice was oddly controlled as he asked, “Don’t you have any pictures?”
“I had some, but I can’t access them.”
“You can’taccessthem? What does that mean?”
“It’s complicated,” I hedged. “I had a whole book of photographs, but it was left behind when…”