"I'm offering you a chance to stop lurking in my doorway like some kind of creepy stalker."
"I don't lurk."
"You're lurking right now."
"This is strategic observation."
Her mouth twitched. Almost a smile. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"Better than admitting I'm watching you work because you're fascinating when you're not trying to claw my eyes out."
The almost-smile vanished. "Flattery won't work on me, Deleuve."
"Wasn't trying to flatter." He leaned forward, keeping his voice low. "Just stating facts."
She grabbed a glass and poured him whiskey without asking. Set it down hard enough that liquid sloshed over the rim. "You get one drink. Then you tell me why you're really here."
"Can't a lion just want a drink?"
"Not when that lion spent all afternoon hovering around my deliveries."
"I was helping."
"You were insufferable." She wiped up the spilled whiskey with sharp, efficient movements. "But at least you were useful. That's the only reason I'm not throwing you out right now."
"Progress." Dante sipped the whiskey. Good stuff. Smooth burn that settled in his chest like warmth. "Did you check the morning delivery yet?"
Her hands stilled on the bar. "Why?"
"Because I know you had onebeforeI showed up and if someone's targeting your shipments, they're not going to stop just because I'm watching the some of the runs." He kept his tone casual, like he was discussing weather instead of sabotage. "Morning delivery would be the perfect time to slip something past you. Before you're expecting trouble."
"I checked it." She continued moving down the bar, putting distance between them. "Everything was fine."
"You sure?"
"I know how to inspect my own inventory, Dante."
"I know you do." He turned on the stool, watching her work. "But humor me. What came in this morning?"
She shot him a look that could've stripped paint. "Produce from a local farm. Herbs from Freya's apothecary. Nothing that could be tampered with."
"Fresh goods?"
"All of it." She grabbed a tray of empties, carrying them to the kitchen. "Signed for them myself at six a.m. You want to tell me what you're getting at?"
"Just being thorough." Dante finished his whiskey, setting the glass down. "Someone who knows your routine would know you're less vigilant with morning deliveries. Might try to slip something through while you're distracted."
"I'm never distracted."
He couldn't help it. The words came out before he could stop them, lower and rougher than he meant. "Well, you seemed pretty distracted earlier when our hands touched."
Gold flared in her eyes. "That was static."
"That was a lot more than static."
"Don't." She pointed at him, finger jabbing the air. "Don't start with that. Whatever you think you felt, you're wrong."
"Am I?" He stood, moving around the bar before she could stop him. "Can you even hear your lion anymore? Because my lion seemed pretty damn sure about what that spark meant."
