The Pagan Stone Page 0,91

for the coffee. "More of a practical joke."

"What?"

"This. Not a big show. More of an elbow in the ribs."

"I'm still laughing. But yes, I see what you mean. You're right. Just a casual little psyche-out."

"Snakes come out during the Seven. People find them in their houses, the basement, closets. Even in their cars if they're stupid enough not to close the windows when they park. Rats, too."

"Lovely. Yes, I've got the notes." The summer heat and exertion dewed her skin. "Is this deep enough?"

"Yeah, it'll do. Go on back in the house."

She glanced toward the two drywall compound buckets, and thought about what he'd had to put inside them. "I'm going to see worse than this. No pandering to the delicate female."

"Your choice."

When he dumped the contents in-and her gorge rose-she could only think she hoped she didn't see much worse. "I'll wash these out." She picked up the empty buckets. "And clean off the deck while you finish here."

"Cybil," he said as she walked away. "Delicate's not how I think of you."

Strong, he thought as he dumped the first shovelful of dirt. Steady. The kind of woman a man could trust to stick, through better or worse.

When he'd finished, he walked around the house, and stopped short when he saw her on her hands and knees, scrubbing the deck. "Okay, here's another way I haven't thought of you."

She blew hair out of her eyes, looked over. "As?"

"A woman with a scrub brush in her hand."

"While I may prefer to pay someone else to do it, I've scrubbed floors before. Though I can say this is the first time I've ever scrubbed off snake guts. It's not a pleasant, housewifely task."

He climbed up, leaned on the rail out of range of the soap and water. "What would be a pleasant, housewifely task?"

"Cooking a pretty meal when the mood strikes, arranging flowers, setting an artistic table. I'm running out, that's the short list." With sweat sliding down her back, she sat back on her heels. "Oh, and making reservations."

"For dinner?"

"For anything." Rising, she started to lift the bucket, but he put his hand over hers. "I need to dump this out, then hose this off."

"I'll take care of it."

With a smile, she tipped her head. "A not-altogether-unpleasant manly task?"

"You could say."

"Then have at it. I'll clean up and we can start unloading the truck."

They worked quickly, and in tandem. That was another thing, he thought. He couldn't remember ever working in tandem with a woman. He couldn't think of a single sane reason cleaning up with her after dealing with the mangled bodies of snakes should start up those messy thoughts and feelings.

"What do you want when this is over?" he asked as he washed up at the sink.

"What do I want when this is over?" She repeated it thoughtfully as she poured him another cup of coffee. "About twelve hours' sleep in a wonderful bed with 450 thread count sheets, followed by a pitcher of mimosas along with breakfast in bed."

"All good choices, but I meant what do you want?"

"Ah, the more philosophical and encompassing want." She poured grapefruit juice and ginger ale over ice, rattled it, then took a long drink. "A break initially. From the work, the stress, this town-not that I have anything against it. Just a celebratory break from all of it. Then I want to come back and help Quinn and Layla plan their weddings, and now help Q plan for her baby. I want to see Hawkins Hollow again. I want the satisfaction of seeing it when there's no threat hanging over it, and knowing I had a part in that. I want to go back to New York for a while, then back to work, wherever that takes me. I want to see you again. Does that surprise you?"

Everything about her surprised him, he realized. "I was thinking we might catch that twelve hours' sleep and breakfast in bed together. Somewhere that's not here."

"Is that an offer?"

"It sounds like it."

"I'll take it."

"Just like that?"

"Life's short or it's long, Gage. Who the hell knows. So, yes, just like that."

He reached out, touched her cheek. "Where do you want to go?"

"Surprise me." She lifted her hand to cover his.

"What if I said-" He broke off when they heard the front door open. "Never mind," he said. "I'll surprise you."

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

LAYLA CAME INTO THE DINING ROOM, WHICH WAS currently in the process of morphing into their main research area. Laptops, stacks of files, charts,