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I listened to their excited conversation until they disappeared along the path toward the parking area.

Then I turned to Duncan, who was standing beside the exit with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

“We did it.”

“We did.”

I crossed the space between us and threw my arms around him.

He caught me easily, laughing as he lifted me a few inches off the ground.

“Careful. You’re going to convince everyone I’m enjoying myself.”

“You are enjoying yourself.”

“I might be.”

I kissed him before he could offer any further denials.

He was still smiling when he set me back on my feet.

There would be reports to complete, equipment to inventory, and plenty of follow-up work once I returned to Chicago. Janine would want a complete account of the weekend, not simply a phone call telling her the guests had screamed in all the right places.

But I had something real to show her now.

As the crew finished securing the building, Duncan brought his truck around. I climbed into the passenger seat, pulled my coat tighter, and leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

He looked over at me before starting the engine.

“Your place?”

I turned my head toward him.

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

His smile was slow and unmistakably pleased.

“Good. Because I’m not particularly interested in going home alone tonight.”

The drive to the cottage passed through nearly empty streets. The festival lights were still glowing above Maple Lane, but most of the shops were dark, and the cold had chased nearly everyone indoors.

I watched the familiar storefronts slip past while Duncan drove.

He kept one hand on the wheel and rested the other on the console between us. I covered it with mine.

We didn’t need to fill the whole journey with conversation. Every so often he’d ask whether I was warm enough or tell me about something a guest had said while he was checking the effects, and I’d laugh or squeeze his hand.

By the time we reached the cottage, I was fighting to keep my eyes open.

Warmth greeted us inside the cottage. While I pulled off my boots, Duncan went into my little kitchen and set two glasses of water on the counter.

I’d spent only a few nights in the rental, yet having him there made the familiar cream walls, green sofa, and plaid pillows seem different.

He examined the collection of notebooks and folders on my dining table.

“Do you ever stop working?”

“Occasionally. I was considering taking the rest of the night off.”