“We’re doing okay. I’m very careful.” Guilt for having not told him she had pinned me against the kitchen wall pulled my eyes down.

He sighed, his narrow body shifting. “Here.” He twisted to reach into his back pocket. “You hold the tickets. I lose everything that lays around longer than a week.”

“Remind me to keep moving, then,” I quipped to lighten the mood as I took them. I glanced down at the seat numbers. “Third row. Fantastic! I don’t know how you do it, Nick.”

He flashed his teeth in a pleased smile, the hint of cunning swelling in his eyes. He’d never tell me where he’d gotten them. Nick could find anything, and if he couldn’t, he knew someone who could. I had a feeling the guarded wariness he showed to authority stemmed from here. In spite of myself, I found this as yet unexplored part of Nick deliciously daring. And as long as I didn’t know for sure …

“Do you want some coffee?” I asked, shoving the tickets into my pocket.

Nick glanced past me into the empty sanctuary. “Ivy still here?”

I said nothing, and he read my answer in the silence. “She really does like you,” I lied.

“No thanks.” He shifted to the door. Ivy and Nick didn’t get along. I hadn’t a clue why. “I’ve got to get back to work. I’m on lunch break.”

Disappointment slumped my shoulders. “Okay.” Nick worked full-time at the museum at Eden Park, cleaning artifacts when he wasn’t moonlighting at the university library, helping them catalog and move their more sensitive volumes to a more secure location. I thought it amusing that our break-in to the university’s ancient-book locker was probably what prompted the move. I was sure Nick had taken the job so he could “borrow” the very tomes they were trying to safeguard. He was working both jobs until the end of the month, and I knew it left him tired.

He turned to leave, and I reached after him with a sudden thought. “Hey, you still have my largest spell pot, don’t you?” We’d used it for making chili three weeks ago for a Dirty Harry marathon at his place, and I’d never brought it back.

He hesitated, his hand on the door latch. “You need it?”

“Edden is making me take a ley line class,” I said, not wanting to tell him that I was working on the witch hunter murders. Not yet. I wasn’t going to ruin that kiss with an argument. “I need a familiar or the witch will flunk me. That means the big spell pot.”

“Oh.” He was silent, and I wondered if he was going to figure it out anyway. “Sure,” he said slowly. “Tonight soon enough?” When I nodded, he added, “Okay. See you then.”

“Thanks, Nick. ’Bye.” Pleased I had wrangled a promise to see him tonight, I pushed the door open, stopping halfway when a masculine voice called out in protest. I looked to find Glenn on the stoop, juggling three sacks of fast food and a tray of drinks.