Carol Gastineau saw him as well. “I wonder if he’ll be staying on, ” she pondered aloud and reached for her briefcase but Sharon smacked her hand.

“I didn’t know if you’d be talking to me,” he said as he came across the store.

“Why not?” Billie shrugged. “Things come up, I know. It happens.” She became aware of the stares burning into her back. “C’mon, let’s sit down,” she motioned to a table nearby, but not before glaring back at the counter. Sharon was suddenly busy wiping glasses, but Carol still gawked openly and with a smirking grin. Sharon had to snap her with the dishtowel to get her to turn around.

“So,” Billie began, “how did it go last night?”

He stiffened. “How did what go?”

“You said you had something to do.”

“Oh that. Yes, that’s what I came over about.”

Uh oh, she thought. Here it comes. I’m sorry, Billie, but I’m going to be busy again tonight . . .

“I’m sorry, Billie, but I’m afraid I’ll be tied up again tonight. Can I get another rain check?”

She shrugged. “Sure, no problem. We don’t even have to go out if you don’t want, really, I—”

“Billie,” he said in a firm tone that brought her eyes up to meet his own. “I want to. Really. This is just very important stuff, and it can’t wait, that’s all.”

“What is it?”

He grinned and hoped she didn’t realize he was scrambling for an answer. “Research. The book, remember?”

Her eyes lit up. “Really? You mean the scary stuff? Great. I’ll come along.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Oh, come on. I ain’t ’fraid of no ghosts.”

Stiles was adamant. “I said no. It could be dangerous. I won’t take that chance. Not with you.”

There was a protective tone in his voice that she liked, but she began to bait him anyway. “Oh, yeah? Well, how do I know this isn’t some kind of stall. I mean, there are other women in this town, maybe you’re seeing one of them. . . .”

He reached across the table and cupped her chin and pulled her toward him. She gave no resistance. His kiss was insistent yet tender and convinced her that yesterday morning had not been a dream after all.

Giggy yelped from being snapped with the towel again and turned back to the counter reluctantly.

Stiles stood to leave. “Do you think you’ll get it done tonight,” she asked, “whatever it is?”

“Possibly. Or it could take another night, or two. There’s no way to tell.”

She took his hand. “Well, whenever you’re done,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “stop by. Okay?”

“No matter how late?”

Her smile widened. “If I’m in bed, get me up.”