I looked away, then at Violet, thankful she would keep my secret. “Can I offer you a cup of tea before you go?”
He nodded. “Sure. That sounds nice.”
I moved into the kitchen, shutting off extra lights as I went and hoping he’d stay for a while before racing back into the night.
Davis followed. “Any trouble with the stove or hot water? I’m guessing cold baths and takeout are getting pretty old.”
“Nope.” I filled a kettle and placed it on a freshly cleaned burner, then flicked the gas flame to life.
His eyes widened at the flash.
“I relit the oven’s pilot light, then cleaned the stovetop burner tubes and ignitions.”Thank you, North Amherst Library.“The thing probably works better now than it has in years. I don’t know what clogged it up, but whatever it was might as well have been tar. I’m surprised you didn’t notice when you prepped the place for me or found the problem after your last guest.”
“How’d you know how to do that?” he asked.
I would never tell. His expression was too priceless. “I turned up the temperature on the hot-water heater too. I hope that’s okay. No one wants to bathe when the dial is set to low.” That also seemed like something Davis should know, but I didn’t want to dwell on problems already solved.
Several minutes later, we carried our cups into the sitting room, and Davis started a fire in the fireplace.
Violet curled on the floor near the hearth and began to snore.
I thought of Emily, wondering what she’d say if she could see me now. The words of one of her poems came swiftly to mind.The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.
Alone in the night with Davis and his dog, quietly enjoying a fire, definitely felt like an ecstatic experience, even if I knew it shouldn’t. And though I came to town to break my habit of longing for love, I suddenly felt badly for Emily, who’d never had any known lovers. How awful, for a woman who felt things so deeply, to have missed out on the wonders of romantic love and its incredible chemistry.
“How’s the social media coming for Grace’s store?” I asked, redirecting my errant thoughts.
Davis frowned. “Slow.”
“Does everyone at Village Books use the same IBOOM handle?” I asked as a new thought tickled the back of my mind.
He rubbed a palm against his darkly stubbled cheek, and for one small beat, I let myself imagine what it would feel like to do the same. “Yeah. Why?”
I bit my lip as a dozen little things popped into mind and a swarm of bees took flight in my stomach. “Does Grace have season passes to UMass?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Why?”
I couldn’t remember seeing her in anything with the team’s logo, or even in the team’s colors, but online she’d seemed like a huge fan. And she didn’t like hot wings, but online she’d gone as far as to rate severallocal shops. She’d looked borderline confused when I’d mentioned a wing buffet the first time we’d met.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, one brow arching high.
I weighed my next words carefully in case I was wrong. “She’s seemed off every time we’ve spoken in person. Kind and sweet, but not fun-loving and silly. No dad jokes.”
I suppressed a groan as my mind spooled faster.
“Michael carried a tablet with him to the register today when you were working. The IBOOM group was up,” I said. “Oh, my goodness. Historically_Bookish is Michael,” I said, feeling utterly daft. Of course I hadn’t connected so fully with someone more than twice my age. Of course Grace had seemed different in her emails than on IBOOM. She wasn’t Historically_Bookish.
“Michael?” Davis asked.
“It has to be, right?” I sifted mentally through our online encounters and compared those to the in-person conversations we’d had in town. “He’s taking classes at UMass, attends all the home games, always has a wink or smile for me.”
“Michael,” Davis repeated, his voice hardening on the word. “Is your online best friend?”
“I wonder if he’s the one who sent flowers,” I whispered, more to myself than to Davis.
Davis frowned. “Does it matter?” he asked. “What about number ten on your list? Giving up on love?”
“I’m not trying to find love, and I’m not falling for Michael. I’m just trying to make sense of the senseless. Besides, if it’s not Michael, then who? Because now I’m convinced it’s not Grace I’ve looked forward to chatting online with every day for the past few years.”
