“Okay,” I murmur, setting the book aside. “That explains it.”
I’m just starting to swing my legs off the couch when the office door opens. Calder steps into the hallway, stretching his shoulders like he’s been hunched over something for too long.
He looks at me and then at the clock.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“A little,” I admit.
“I’ll heat the stew up for lunch.”
Relief and gratitude tangle in my chest. I follow him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter while he moves around with easy efficiency. The stew warms on the stove, filling the air with that rich, comforting smell again.
We eat at the table, the storm a constant soundtrack. Conversation comes easier this time. Lighter. He asks about the book. I tell him the detective is probably the killer and he shakes his head like I’ve committed a crime.
After we rinse our bowls, he looks at me with a thoughtful expression.
“You want to play a game?”
My eyebrows lift. “A game?”
“Yeah.”
I hesitate, rubbing the back of my neck. “I mean… sure. But I’m not any good. I haven’t really played many games before.”
He stares at me like I just told him I’ve never seen snow.
“You’re kidding.”
I shrug, a little embarrassed. “We didn’t really… do that growing up.”
Something flickers in his eyes. It’s gone almost as fast as it appears, replaced by a determined glint. He disappears into a cabinet and comes back with a box.
“Phase 10,” he announces, setting it on the table.
I eye it suspiciously. “Is this going to be complicated?”
He snorts. “You’ll be fine. I’ll teach you.”
He explains the rules with patient clarity, his big hands shuffling the cards with practiced ease. I stumble through the first round, laughing at my own confusion. He wins, of course, but he doesn’t gloat. He just deals the next hand and nudges me in the right direction when I get stuck.
It’s… fun.
Genuinely, stupidly fun. I find myself grinning and trash talking in a way that feels foreign and wonderful. The storm fades into the background as we get caught up in the rhythm of the game.
And then the lights go out.
The house plunges into sudden darkness. I gasp, the cards slipping from my fingers.
“It’s okay,” Calder says immediately, his voice calm in the dark. “Storm probably knocked the power.”
I hear him moving. A second later, a flashlight clicks on, casting a steady beam of light across the room. He sets it on the coffee table and grabs another from a drawer, placing it beside the first.
He feeds more wood into the fireplace. Flames leap higher, throwing warm light and dancing shadows across the walls.
“There we go,” he murmurs.
He drapes another blanket over my shoulders without a word. The extra weight is comforting. Bear climbs onto the couch beside me, all eighty pounds of him, and wedges himself against my side. I laugh softly and wrap an arm around his thick neck.
