She blinked, clearly caught off guard, before laughter bubbled up from her chest. “A date? You?”
“Yeah, me. I’ve heard it’s something people do.”
The timing wasn’t ideal—hell, it was probably reckless to even consider this with Theodore’s men circling closer by the day. But after everything they’d been through, Grayson couldn’tshake the feeling that they needed this. One moment to breathe. One moment to remember why they were fighting so damn hard to protect this town, this fragile sense of safety.
She crossed her arms, pretending to consider. “I don’t know. You don’t exactly scream ‘romantic.’”
“That’s fair,” he admitted. “But I’m trying. So, what do you say?”
Cora grinned. “Okay. I’ll bite. When?”
“Tonight,” he said quickly, as if giving her the chance to change her mind would ruin everything. “I know a place.”
“Bold of you to assume I didn’t have plans.”
“You don’t,” he countered. “But if you want, we can reschedule for—”
“Grayson,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “I’ll go. Give me a few minutes to close up.”
Relief washed over him, but he didn’t dare let it show. He nodded instead and leaned against the doorway as she disappeared inside.
The drive to the small restaurant on the edge of town was quiet. Grayson stole a glance at Cora as she looked out the window. She seemed relaxed, but he knew her well enough now to sense the undercurrent of tension she carried everywhere.
When they arrived, Cora took in the cozy exterior of the restaurant with a raised brow. “You picked this place?”
“It seemed…nice.”
“It is,” she replied. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t think candlelight was your thing.”
“It’s not,” he admitted as he opened the door for her. “But I thought you might like it.”
She stepped inside, and her smile lingered as they were shown to a corner table. The room was quiet, and the faint strains of jazz provided a pleasant backdrop. Grayson scanned the room instinctively, his training kicking in even here, but Cora’s voice pulled his attention back.
“You’re staring again,” she warned, not looking up from her menu.
“I’m not.”
“You are.” She finally glanced up, and her eyes were dancing with amusement. “What’s going through that head of yours, Kane?”
“Just…trying to figure out what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking you’re adorable when you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You’re fidgeting.”
He glanced down at his hands, realizing too late that he’d been tapping the table. He stilled them immediately. “Maybe a little.”
“Why?” she asked, tilting her head in genuine curiosity.
“Because this feels…important. And I don’t want to mess it up.”
Her teasing expression softened, and she reached across the table, placing her hand on his. “You’re not messing it up. Relax.”
Their food arrived shortly after they ordered, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics. Grayson found himself laughing more than he had in years, caught off guard by the ease with which Cora filled the spaces between words. She teased him mercilessly about his lack of culinary skills, and he retaliatedwith tales of her disastrous attempts at wielding magic. The tension in his shoulders melted away, replaced by something that felt so incredibly intimate he could hardly stand it.
The playful banter gave way to a quieter, more introspective mood as they finished their meal. Cora swirled the last of her wine in her glass and asked, “Can I ask you something?”
