Bay looked at her curiously. She thought something was wrong. Claire smiled at her and entered so she wouldn’t worry.

Tyler led them through a living room with a few pieces of comfortable furniture and a lot of boxes, into a white kitchen with glass-front cabinets. There was a very large breakfast nook—another room, really—off the kitchen, with floor-to-ceiling windows. The floor of the nook was covered with a tarp, and there were paint supplies littered across a long huntboard. Two easels were set up.

“That’s the reason I bought this house. All that beautiful light,” Tyler said as he put the casserole dish on the kitchen counter.

“Can I draw, Tyler?” Bay asked.

“Sure, kiddo. Your easel is right over there. Let me put some paper on it.”

While Tyler adjusted the easel to her height, Bay went to the refrigerator and pointed to a colored drawing of an apple tree. “Look, Claire, I did that.”

It wasn’t that Tyler had put Bay’s drawing on his refrigerator that Claire appreciated; it was that he’d left it there. “It’s beautiful.”

As soon as Bay was settled, Tyler walked back to Claire, smiling.

Claire’s eyes went to the dish worriedly. It was a chicken and water chestnut casserole made with the oil from snapdragon seeds. Snapdragons were meant to ward off the undue influences of others, hexes and spells and the like, and Tyler needed to free himself of her influence over him. “Aren’t you going to eat it?” she prompted.

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

He shrugged. “Well, okay. Why not. Will you join me?”

“No, thank you. I’ve already eaten.”

“Then sit while I eat.” He took a clear glass plate from the cabinet and spooned some of the casserole onto it. He led Claire to two stools at the counter. “So, how are you and Bay getting along with Sydney at work?” he asked as they took their seats. “She stopped by yesterday and told me about her new job. She has a gift with hair. A real passion for it.”

“We’re doing fine,” Claire said, watching Tyler as he brought a forkful of the casserole to his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, and she thought for a moment that maybe she shouldn’t be watching. It was almost sensual, his full lips, the bob of his Adam’s apple. She shouldn’t feel this way about a man who was going to be free of her in a few seconds.

“Ever thought of having kids?” he asked.

“No,” she answered, still staring.

“Never?”

She took her mind off his mouth and thought about it. “Not until you just asked me.”

He took another bite, then pointed to his plate with his fork. “This is wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten as well as I have since I met you.”

Maybe it just took a few minutes to kick in. “Next you’re going to tell me I remind you of your mother. I expect more creativity from you. Eat.”

“No, you’re nothing like my mother. Her free spirit doesn’t include anything to do with the kitchen.” She raised her brows at this bit of information. He smiled at her and took another bite. “Go on, you know you want to ask.”