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“And?”

“And nothing yet.”

“But you're afraid there will be.”

“Yes.”

A vision of Belinda wrapped in that tiny towel flashes through my mind. Then Belinda wearing my shirt. Belinda smiling across the diner. Belinda beneath my hand while I kiss her.

My stomach twists.

“If I lose control around her⁠—”

“Ah.”

I scowl. “What?”

“There it is.”

“There what is?”

“Her.”

I know exactly who he means.

“Belinda has nothing to do with this.”

Owen laughs.

Actually laughs.

“Fuck you.”

“You've spent three years barely speaking to anyone unless they're trampling your tomatoes, and now you're waging a prank war with the new woman next door.”

“She's trying to reopen a haunted B&B.”

“So?”

“It's dangerous.”

“This is Arrhythmia,” he retorts.

“Exactly.”

“She can handle it, Leeds. The woman is a Witch.”

“Barely.”

His eyebrows rise. I immediately regret saying it.

“Her words,” I mutter.

“Uh-huh.”

“She could get hurt.”

“Anyone could.”