"What Bess asked." The look in his eyes, not teasing, dared her to say yes.
She wondered what he'd do if she did.
She shook her head with a little smile and a shrug, not answering. His eyes narrowed on her as she refused to answer and then she wiped her hands on the towel before throwing it to Taylor and announcing, "You know what? I'm not tired. Too much sugar. And excitement." Her lips twitched, his eyes narrowed further. "I'm going to head to the cafe and do some organizing."
Ursula looked at her surprised. "Right now? It's eleven."
She shrugged. "I need to get out some of this energy." And then she walked out of the kitchen, leaving behind a smirking best friend and a man who went from joking to smoldering quickly enough to give her whiplash.
She did need to burn off this energy and she needed distance from the detective who couldn't have her, but looked at her like he wanted to throw her over his shoulder at the thought of someone else taking her.
So, she scooped up a happy Lady Macbeth who chittered as she put her inside of her large leather tote bag, her masked face peeking out, and left The Lost Souls House as some of that energy, and possibly perimenopausal heat, burned off of her.
An hour later, Eloise was at The Black Cat, the doors locked as she was sorting through inventory with just the lights on behind the bar and lovely instrumental music playing. Lady Macbeth was asleep under the desk after having eaten three leftover blueberry muffins like any adorable pregnant creature should.
Bess had told her that the crowd issue was still affecting the cafe and they'd had to start turning people away from staying with their coffees and teas and hope for better luck next time. Tess had even made customers leave their tables once they had been there for over an hour, which made Eloise laugh as she imagined the intense young woman standing next to a table making people uncomfortable until they left. Sure enough, the numbers were staggering and she needed to figure out how to fix it. At this point, Shellee had handed over the reigns with peaceful resignation so that she could be fully present with family where she was, so Eloise was prepared to tackle this problem. A great problem it may be, it was still a problem.
She'd found the silver key a few weeks ago in a small lemon-shaped dish with the nearly rubbed-off words,store room. After finding a light she frowned as she saw multiple, round wood tables and stacked chairs. There had been various other odds and ends, a small toolbox and a couple of cans of paint with supplies. When she pulled one of the tables out and ran a hand over the dust, she'd gotten the idea.
She got to work pulling all of them out of storage, setting them up and getting a visual of how they could fit outside. She was dusting them off with music guiding her strokes with the white rag when she heard the delivery bell at the back ring. She frowned and felt suspicion trickle in as no one would be delivering anything this late. She grabbed her phone ready to call for help and grabbed a hammer out of the toolbox then got onto her tip-toes to look out of the peephole.
Relief along with something else filled her chest.
She opened the metal door and held up the hammer. "I was prepared to use this as a weapon had you been someone else."
Taylor took in the sight of Eloise holding a hammer in one hand and her phone in the other, her auburn hair up in a twisty pile with a polkadot bandanna and overalls with a white tank top.
"I know Carol Weatherby is a nuisance, but violence is never the answer," he said with a smirk.
She waved him inside with a roll of her eyes. "I would never physically harm her," she said setting down the tool. "And as a woman, sometimes violence is the answer."
He turned and all joking was pushed aside when she saw the look on his face. There was nothing light in the way his blue eyes were staring at her. It felt physical and she got a whiff of his smell that hadn't ever left her but was now stronger. She suddenly felt nervous, a heat building up inside of her that came from him, as if she caught it by him looking at her in this way. Why was he looking at her like this?
Then he stepped toward her, his eyes never leaving hers and that heat was getting hotter and suddenly her breathing didn't feel natural. Were her lungs moving unevenly? Was she going to have another hot flash episode?
"Why wouldn't you answer my question earlier?" he asked, his voice low, his eyes pinning her. "And don't ask which one. You know."
"Because it's none of your business, is it?" she said lifting her head and squaring her shoulders, feeling a defiance that he deserved.
He continued advancing on her and she wasn't sure why, but she responded by stepping backwards for each of his steps. Her fight or flight was kicking in and was taking no recommendations from her and then her back was against the tall metal shelves holding bags of coffee and raw sugar.
"Did he kiss you?"
"Would that bother you?"
The look he gave her said it was a silly question.
"Tell me," he said in that low voice that was so soft she could feel it against her skin, as his hand reached up to tuck a wavy strand of her hair behind her ear. The touch made her knees feel wobbly and her hand gripped the shelf behind her. The rich smell of dark oily coffee beans penetrated her senses.
"No," she finally whispered back.
"No, you won't tell me or no, he didn't kiss you?"
She swallowed hard. "No, he didn't kiss me."
He closed his eyes for the briefest moment, a look of relief washing over his beautiful face before he opened them again. "I shouldn't be here," he said. His large hand gently cupped her cheek.
"Why are you?"
