I grabbed my half glass and went to him, moving the muffling spell as I did.

“We are still in the cone of silence,” I said as I stopped by his side. “You okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“I want to help you with that, Jess. I really do. I want to remind you how fun sex can be. How amazing. I want to remind you what intense passion feels like.” He paused. “Maybe I want you to remind me. But damn it, I can’t. I can’t for your sake and mine. I can’t because of what it would mean for me, and how it would trap you. It’s not a line I can cross.”

I furrowed my brow, not sure how it could possibly trap me. I let it go, though. He seemed torn, on edge. I didn’t want to make this any harder, because he was right. He had his reasons for wanting to stay solo, and I had my reasons for holding back, even if my convictions had become a little wobbly lately. We were a couple of adults. We could make this work.

“Totally,” I said, my tone light and a little flippant, trying to ease the mood. “I’m not beat up about it, Austin. I understand. I’m thankful, actually. This is definitely for the best.”

He looked away. “I’m here for whatever you need, at any time, but I don’t think I can hear about your sexual exploits…when you start having them. Anything else is fair game, but…” He shook his head. “Probably not that.”

“Mutual, because that’s gross. Men talking about women like that.”

“Double standard?” He glanced down at me with a sly smile.

“Yes. This one time the sexual double standard goes the opposite way. You have to let us have this one.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. It’s probably better that we can’t hook up. You’d tell everyone what a bad lay I was.”

“Happened before, has it?” I wrapped my arm around his. “Can we go sit down to our G-rated picnic now? I have more tastings to do. Oh, and I need to ask your advice.”

“I thought we just cleared the air about that,” he teased, walking me back and lowering me to my place before taking his seat.

“Oh, you meant my solo sexual fun, too?”

His whole body stiffened. Fire lit his eyes. He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “God, Jess. Yes. I mean that, too. Yes. Please don’t mention that to me, for entirely different reasons.”

I laughed, this situation we found ourselves in beyond weird. Usually when a man and a woman were friends, one of them wanted to bang the other, and they didn’t because they were friend-zoned. This was the first time I knew of that both parties were struggling to maintain a friendship despite both of them wanting more. Why did I always do things ass-backward?

“Actually, I’ve been wondering about my financial situation…” I checked the spell, making sure it was holding firm around us. This particular spell was sensitive, and an errant fingernail or piece of hair could render it useless. “Here’s the thing. Ivy House is apparently worth a lot of money, and the heir can use that money as long as she is alive. She can’t pass it on, but she can use it while she has it, basically. At the moment, Mr. Tom manages all of that. He insists on paying for everything. I have no idea how much I have, let alone if there’s frivolous spending within the household. Like…how much is Edgar spending on flowers? I never thought that would be a concern, but…”

“Definitely a concern,” Austin said.

“Yeah. It’s like Mr. Tom is trying to keep it from me. It isn’t really mine, and I have my own money, so I haven’t been too pushy about it, but it’s starting to feel…off. I don’t know what to do. How do I broach the subject? I assume he’d never try to embezzle, but…well…”

Austin leaned back, like he was uncoiling, before lying down behind me. He pulled me back to lean against him, as though he hadn’t just declared that we should keep our distance.

“You’re thinking like a Jane,” he said, “and he clearly hasn’t explained how it works in the magical world for someone in your situation. Mistresses of great fortune, which is what you are now, are considered above handling their own daily affairs. You do not pay for things; you instruct your servant to pay for things. You do not carry your purchases; you do not drive yourself; you do not do anything that someone else could easily do for you. If you want to know more about the finances, ask him to bring the ledgers to your office or wherever. That’s where he tallies the expenditures and totals and whatnot. You can make changes, and he’ll see to it.”

I digested that for a moment. “The ledgers… When you say ledgers, I’m thinking large volumes with handwritten computations.”

“Probably, yeah. Earl is old. He probably does things the traditional way.”

“So that’s the first thing to go.” I frowned, the light starting to dwindle, the wine starting to make my thoughts peacefully fuzzy. I thought back to the countless times Mr. Tom and I had passed the great old office together. What with its bulky furniture, the quills sticking out of inkpots on the desk, and strange abstract paintings on the wall, it had never appealed to me. He’d recommended that I head in there once in a while and “see to things.” I’d thought he was referring to the outdated decorations. No thanks. Now, however…

“I wonder what other little things I’ve missed because he hasn’t come right out and told me.”

“Probably a lot. You should mention it to Niamh. She’s a lot less hung up on formality. She’ll figure out what’s needed and let you know.”

I ran my bottom lip through my teeth. “Good tip.”

We stayed until sunset. I took over pouring the glasses and he continued to lie on his side, pulling me back against him when I wasn’t grabbing food or drink. The day waned, the sun painting the landscape a dark amber before we finally packed it in and headed home, Mr. Tom taking the remains of the picnic and Austin carrying me as I twirled my fingers within his soft fur. Once back at Ivy House, I did a quick mental check to see where everyone was within the house—my dad up in bed, my mom reading in the front room, Mr. Tom already back and in the kitchen, some of the gargoyles at windows, some stationed in rooms, and Edgar still down in the cavern below the house with the crystals, working day and night to get answers for me.

“I’ve always just assumed that vampires sleep, but…do they?” I asked Austin as he dressed within the trees. He met me on the grass, glancing at the nibbled patch of flowers as he passed. The ground was just a bit wet, probably not noticeable to anyone not looking for it. If the deer came, hopefully it wouldn’t be looking.

“If they expend a lot of effort, they tend to binge-sleep.” He stopped beside me. “Do you want to set the tripwire?” I nodded and got to it. “So they might sleep a week after a battle, but otherwise not so much. He doesn’t do much around here, so I doubt he sleeps very often. All that time, and he still can’t make a doily.”

I laughed, tore down the spell, and started over. “Quiet for a moment. This still takes concentration.”

I finished, and we continued on toward the house, Austin’s pressure on my back directing me around to the front porch.

“Can’t end a date at the back door,” he said. Once there, he deposited me on the stoop before stepping back, his eyes deep and soft. “Thank you, Jacinta. I had a great time.”

I felt antsy, like he might leave. “It was perfect, Austin. I would not change one thing, not even Mr. Tom falling from the tree.” I picked at my nail. “Do you… You’re coming in, right?”

“If this were a real date, no. I would bid you adieu and call you tomorrow. Since I’m sleeping here…I kinda have to.”

“If this were a real date, you wouldn’t come in?”

“No, because I wouldn’t want the old guard to make assumptions. I wouldn’t want them to think I had fallen into my old habits, or that my feelings for you were shallow.”

“Since when do you care what other people think?”

“As it concerns you? Always.”

I shook my head. “Stop always saying the right thing. It’s annoying.” I laughed, flicking my hair, a nervous movement. I didn’t want to go back to normal life. I wanted this moment, this perfect date, to last forever. “What about a hug and kiss on the cheek? You’d give that to your granny.”

“I wouldn’t dare. She’d punch me in the balls if I tried. She’s not a hugger.”

He moved in slowly, his eyes holding mine, pulling me in. My stomach fluttered and expectant shivers coated me.

“But since you are a hugger,” he said, barely a whisper, his voice deep and rough and sexy.

He slid his hands across my hips and around, pulling me to him firmly, our fronts pressing together. I couldn’t help but moan, my eyes fluttering shut as he spread his hands on my back, his strength enveloping me. The squeeze felt so good, and I slid my palms down his chest to his pecs, feeling his muscle through his shirt.

As he released me, he touched his lips to my cheek, soft at first, then a little firmer. He dragged them a little, giving me another little kiss nearer my mouth, then dragged a little more, spreading a trail of fire across my skin. His lips skimmed the corner of mine, like they had in the mine before I threw a wrench in my own wicked plans. He paused for a moment, breathing faster, sharing the same heated air.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I slid my hands back up his torso, the feeling beyond good, and turned my head just enough that our lips aligned, almost touching. Without another thought, he leaned in, pulling his hand around so his fingertips braced against my jaw. His taste exploded through me, wine and honey and cinnamon. He nibbled my bottom lip before deepening the kiss, almost like he couldn’t help himself, stealing my breath. My God, I’d forgotten how damn well he kissed. How consuming. I held on for dear life, lost to it, lost to him. Why weren’t we supposed to do this, again? What was the big deal?