Eve blushed. She wasn’t embarrassed, or anything; she just got rather warm when he looked at her like that.

He held her close a moment longer, ducking his head to murmur in her ear. “You kissed me.”

“I know,” she whispered back. “I’ve kissed you many times since last night, in case you’d forgotten.”

His voice dropped an octave. “I hadn’t forgotten.”

“Right here, guys,” Mont said from the doorway. “Literally standing right here.”

“Shut up,” Jacob advised, before turning his attention back to Eve. “You kissed me in public.”

“Does Mont count as public?”

“Interesting question,” Mont drawled.

Jacob, who had apparently decided to ignore his best friend, continued. “I like you kissing me in public. We should do that more. Whenever we want. Like a couple. Do you agree that we’re a couple?”

Eve laughed softly, letting her head fall forward against his shoulder. She’d sort of thought last night made them a couple—not the sex, but rather, all the lovely mushy things she’d managed to make him say. Of course, Jacob was more black and white than that. He needed actual, clear-cut words, and she was happy to give them to him.

But for Eve, even the air between them was everything. It was so absolutely everything that she’d decided, once and for all, to stay in Skybriar. She was going to tell Florence to fuck off—albeit more professionally, since Eve was now associated with Castell Cottage and had certain standards of behavior to uphold. She was going to forget about little Freddy’s cursed bloody birthday party . . .

And then she was going to make a trip home and tell her parents in person that she was sorry, and that she was changing, and that she believed in her own power now. That the things she did—feeding people, helping people, making them feel good—were just as important as counting money or writing contracts. That she respected her own skills enough to use them, fear of failure be damned.

She’d inform her parents, honestly, that she’d found something she loved. (And someone, too, but she’d likely keep that part to herself for now.)

Maybe they wouldn’t believe her—she could barely believe it, sometimes—but she knew it was the truth. Because when she thought about leaving Castell Cottage, about making it a temporary blip in her past, something inside her said calmly but firmly, No.

And when she thought about leaving Jacob, the voice became a hundred times louder.

So, “Yes,” she whispered in his ear. “We are absolutely a couple.”

He grinned at her as if she’d just single-handedly disinfected and restocked every bathroom in the building, and then he grabbed her about the waist as if they’d spent the last six years apart, dragged her against his body, and kissed her breathless.

“Jesus Christ,” Mont muttered, but he actually sounded quite pleased.

He sounded less pleased a moment later when he cleared his throat and said, “Er, not to interrupt, you two, but it looks like there’s a goose outside.”