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Holy. Cats. What had I just done?

Chapter Twelve

Z

“Done. Where should I take you?” I wasn’t letting this opportunity get away from me.

She was flustered, almost as though her dinner invitation hadn’t been what she meant to say.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Maybe I should give her a choice, given her expression?

“I mean, if you do want to go to dinner.” Agency. That was what I kept reading the books. Agency. Women just want to live, like the rest of us. And men, myself included, had been crapping on that.

Roxy looked up at me then. “I do. I do.” She stopped, and bit her lip.

Dear gods in heaven and all the imps in Hades. I’d never seen anything more sexy in my entire existence. One tooth peeked out between her lips, worrying her bottom lip.

It shouldn’t be this appealing.

But it was.

I shouldn’t be tempted to drag her off somewhere private and not let her away from me for the next month.

But I was.

“Okay. You tell me where.” I tried to contain whatever this was I was feeling. It was… big. It was something I hadn’t felt before, or maybe not in a long time.

“Café Roka. It’s probably the best place in Bisbee.”

“Café Roka it is.” The smile that zoomed across my face happened before I could even think about it.

This was happiness.

I was happy.

Not angry, vengeful, scheming, distrustful, lusting—well, okay, I was lusting, but in a completely not overpower her way—bored, tired, or any other of my regular emotions.

I mean, the emotions I normally felt as a god. An active god. I couldn’t forget resentful, either. I was resentful as hell that we’d been forgotten, regulated to mere myth and tales for children.

I was happy.

When had I last been happy? Or even satisfied?

I couldn’t remember.

Nothing felt the way I did now.

Roxy had agree to go out with me again. Even if it was another meal, she was willing to be seen in public with me, knowing that I was interested in her.

This had to be a good sign.

“I need to go home first. To clean up a little.” Her hand pushed at her hair. “And to get you your next book.” She smiled.

“You look great.” I meant it.