CHAPTER 62 – ANTONIO
I’m dressed and ready to go. In theory. After breakfast I almost accidentally returned to the cocoon of warmth and safety—Caspian’s bed. I feel so comfortable it might be illegal in some countries.
“If you want to stay here, you absolutely can,” he says, watching me with pure, unadulterated adoration.
“No, I want to go,” I claim, wrapping the blanket more snugly around me.
“You can also come with me to the hospital,” he says again. He seems reluctant to leave me to my own devices.
“I don’t want to. I want to see Earl’s bakery and Ann-Sabrina’s shop.”
“Okay,” Caspian says, lifting the blanket off me and ignoring my squeak of protest. “Let’s go then.”
Downstairs, he pulls me into a hug.
“Are you sure you want to spend the morning in the wild?”
“Yes.” I pause. “Almost.”
“Antonio,” he groans.
I laugh, kissing him. “I’m sure enough. For now anyway.”
He drops me off in front of the bakery. He starts to open his mouth, and I give him my most authoritative look.
“I’m going to be fine.”
“Oh, I know you will be fine,” he says, a teasing glint in his eyes. “It’s Baywood I’m worried about.”
We kiss—once, twice, five times—and then I watch him drive off.
I feel strangely bereft.
I look at Earl’s door. It doesn’t look welcoming. It looks intimidating.
Is it weird to go in? Yes. Incredibly weird.
Maybe I should walk around instead. Not talk to anyone. Yes—the not-talking-to-anyone sounds like a plan.
Suddenly the door flies open and Earl beams at me.
“There you are!” He beckons me in. “Caspian told me I’d find you here.”
“What? When?”
“Oh, about thirty seconds ago,” Earl replies cheerfully. “He called.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. Maybe I should be annoyed that Caspian thought I needed this extra encouragement, but I’m just grateful. Because he was right.
I was thirty seconds away from calling him and asking what made him abandon me in the middle of a scary town.
Earl hands me a warm cinnamon roll. It’s perfect.
I take a bite just as a loud female voice with a blunt, foreign accent makes me nearly choke.
“Yes, I see the attraction,” the voice declares from a tablet propped against a bowl of dough.
“Caspian with his seductive eyes and playboy hair. The aura of dominance. The solid strength. And you with that anxious frown and the tense shoulders of a scholar.”
“This is Maija,” Earl says importantly. “Don’t be fooled — she’s not actually here. She’s Zooming us all the way from Finland!”
I finish my roll under Maija’s unblinking stare, trying to decide how insulted I should feel.
“In Finland, we have a saying,” she starts.
She pauses long enough for me to hope she’s lost the connection. She hasn’t.
“Your mouth would eat it. Your stomach could take it. But your legs can’t handle it.”
“She’s full of wisdom like that,” Earl says reverently.
“Maija will meet us in the flesh in a few days,” he adds happily.
“Lovely.” I don’t know what else to say.
“I have six jars of dried prune jam,” Maija says.
I nod nervously. That sounded like a threat.
I head over to Fenton’s Books next. Caspian’s friend Ann-Sabrina owns it.
I’ve met her once, during the Living History Day.
I like her, although she also scares me a little.
“Come in and craft your Shadow Daddy,” she says the second I step in.
When mine is finished, she laughs. “You created Caspian.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, examining the unmistakably Caspian-shaped figure.
I lift my chin. “If anyone is a Shadow Daddy it’s Caspian. But instead of shadows, he has light.”
“So he’s a Light Daddy?” Ann-Sabrina looks delighted.
I blush. “He’s my romance hero,” I inform her, feeling lame, but apparently I said something very wise because Ann-Sabrina reaches for a tissue and dabs her eyes.
“Christ, you two are perfect for each other.”
She smiles at me. “Help me arrange the trophy shelf. The heroes with the most prominent abs go on the right.”
We’re deep in a debate about hot vampire abs versus hot Fae abs when Steve Pell wanders in.
“Have you seen Harold?” he asks Ann-Sabrina. Then he tilts his head, squinting at the shelf.
“Damn.” He lets out a wolf whistle.
“I’d let that vampire drain me any Tuesday.”
“Ew, Steve,” Ann-Sabrina says, almost dropping the book.
“Why would Harold be here, anyway? I don't sell Ten Ways to Ramble and Annoy or whatever the hell he reads.”
I giggle.
“I wanted to ask him about the lakeside property Ryan Rutherford is buying,” Steve says casually.
Everything in me halts.
My heart skips a beat, then starts thumping a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
“He’s moving,” Steve adds. “Buying the lot right next to Caspian’s property line.”