Page 77 of Fairy Godmothers Aren't Cheap

But it was something I wanted to give her. And in order to do that, I had to do it right. I had to move slowly.

This woman was going to be the end of me.

We left the warehouse, and I took her hand again, promising myself I could, and would, move slower than I had last week, even though I could see our future, and wanted to be there. Now.

No, last year already.

She drifted closer, letting her shoulder brush mine. As we left the lot, she kept hold of my hand, even as we made our way through the hole in the fence.

That was promising.

It just felt like the energy that had been propelling us last week had eased up, and we were back to uncertainty, neither of us braving a bold next move. She could be waiting for me, but this might also be her preferred pace.

Char said men were impossible? Try dating a woman.

“Come to the museum with me,” I said, leaning against my Rover, checking my watch. I had a night shift in twenty-five minutes.

A flash of uncertainty crossed her face, and I snagged her hand, pulling her against me. I wrapped my arms around her waist, loosely, so she could wiggle free if she wanted.

Her smile was quick, and she made no moves to leave my embrace. “The museum closes soon.”

I gave her a deep, long kiss that I’d been thinking about for days. When we broke apart, her eyes were half-closed, her smile dreamy.

That was better. Much better.

“Come with me,” I prompted, buoyed by the signals she was sending me. I warned myself to slow down, but I wasn’t sure where the brakes were. Wherever they were, I wanted to snap them off and let the momentum take us away like it had last week.

She narrowed her eyes, watching me with a mischievous expression. “Okay.”

I parked in the staff lot, and as we entered the museum together, I asked her, my fingers reaching out to tap hers, “Do I need to sneak you in?”

She beamed at me like I’d said magic words. “I have my membership on me.” She flashed the card at Glenda moments later, and was warned she only had fifteen minutes before closing.

Greg, one of the several guides, sidled up to us on the other side of the admission desk. Charming and good looking, but total slime. It was clear he used Char’s intelligence about pottery stuff to make himself look better at his job. But he was charming. And women liked charming.

“Hey,” he said to Char, leaning casually on the edge of Glenda’s desk. “There’s new stuff in the gift shop. Think you might like it.”

That was my line.

She slowed. “Really?”

Greg did a great job of making her feel smart with his questions about her interests, so maybe that was my real problem.

Jealousy.

Around Char, I lost my game, but Greg’s got better.

“What era?” she asked, ignoring the fact that I was trying to gently propel her forward and away from Smarmy McDufus.

Greg flashed her a big grin, not answering her question. Probably because he’d forgotten to look up the age of the pieces or needed to ask her. “I heard you bought some land?”

“Greg, aren’t you off for the night?” I asked, renewing my attempt to move Char forward again.

“I did!” Char said brightly. “How’d you hear?”

“James told me.”

Yeah, and I really regretted it, too.

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