“You found a shirt without sawdust.” Her lips curved. “I’m impressed.”
Theo looked down at himself—dark jeans, a gray Henley that Beck claimed brought out his eyes, and boots that were actually clean for once. “Special occasion.”
“Ward maintenance discussion.”
“Very serious business.”
She grabbed a light jacket and stepped onto the porch, pulling the inn’s door shut behind her. The wards hummed in recognition—their combined magic, stable and strong. Theo felt it like a handshake, a greeting.
“Ready?” He offered his arm, then felt ridiculous.
They walked to his truck in silence. Not awkward—expectant. The air between them was charged with everything they weren’t saying.
Vito’sby the Sea occupied a converted warehouse at the edge of the harbor, all exposed brick and twinkle lights strung across rafters. The smell hit Theo as soon as they walked in: garlic, basil, fresh bread, and the particular yeasty heat of a kitchen that had been producing miracles for three generations.
Mismatched tables filled the space, no two alike—scarred wooden farm tables next to marble bistro tops next to what appeared to be a repurposed door balanced on sawhorses. Candles flickered in wine bottles, their wax dripped into abstract sculptures from years of dinners. The walls were covered in photographs: generations of Marinis, famous visitors, local fishing boats, and at least three images of Vito holding truly enormous fish.
The dining room was packed, tables crowded with families and couples and groups of friends all talking over each other in the cheerful chaos that was Vito’s trademark. Somewhere in the back, a wine bottle popped. A child shrieked with delight, chased by an older sibling between tables while their parents pretended not to notice.
“ALPHA!” The shout came from behind the bar, where a massive man with a graying mane of hair was pouring drinks with practiced ease. Vito Marini. Lion shifter, restaurateur, and the most aggressively hospitable person Theo had ever met.
Vito abandoned his bartending duties and descended on them with arms spread wide. “You bring a guest! A beautiful guest! Bella! BELLA! Come see!”
A woman emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron liberally splattered with tomato sauce. Bella Marini was shorter than her husband but twice as intimidating, with sharp dark eyes that missed nothing and a smile that could charm the surly out of anyone.
“The innkeeper!” Bella clasped Avine’s hands before Theo could make introductions. “We’ve heard so much about you. The whole town is talking. You’re the one who made the wards sing, yes? Sue Tidewell’s niece?” Without waiting for answers, she was already steering Avine toward the back of the restaurant. “Come, come. We have a special table. Very private. Very romantic.”
Theo started to protest. “It’s not?—”
“Our Alpha finally brings a woman to dinner!” Vito clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to stagger a lesser man. “This is a celebration! We’ll bring the good wine. The very good wine.”
The corner booth was, as promised, private—tucked away from the main dining room, lit by candles that Theo definitely hadn’t requested but wasn’t going to complain about. Avine slid onto the leather seat, her expression caught somewhere between amused and overwhelmed.
“They’re…” She searched for the word.
“A lot.” Theo sat across from her. “But the food is worth it.”
“They seem to like you.”
“They like everyone. It’s their thing.” He paused. “Though they’ve never called me romantic before.”
“To be fair, you did ask me to discuss ward maintenance schedules over candlelit Italian food.”
“The candles were their idea.”
“The dinner was yours.”
He didn’t have a response to that. She was right. This was his terrible idea, and now he was sitting across from her in candlelight while lion shifters plotted to feed them into submission.
Bella reappeared with wine, bread, and three dishes Theo hadn’t ordered.
“For the pretty witch!” She set each plate down with ceremonial flair. “You’re too skinny. Our Alpha needs a woman with strength. Eat, eat!”
“Bella—” Theo tried.
“Shh.” She waved him off and turned to Avine with a conspiratorial lean. “Our Alpha has nice shoulders, yes? Very strong. Good for carrying things. Good for other things too, if you understand.” She winked with zero subtlety.
Avine choked on her wine.
