plate down on the table—she sat where she’d been sitting the night before, sipping her coffee from a sleek black thermos. His coffee was in front of the seat he’d had the night before, in a mug with the words SEE YOU, SPACE COWBOY superimposed over a silhouette of a dude with big hair.
“Is this a cryptic message?” he asked playfully as he picked up the cup and looked at the words. “Like, ‘Get out’?”
“No, it’s from this show I liked and it seemed appropriate for you.”
“Why?” he asked, noticing how her gaze skated away from him.
“Well, the main character is tall, kind of blunt, and . . . hot.” She glanced at her plate and her expression tightened. “You cut my food for me? I can cut my own food.”
He flipped a new Reggie puzzle piece—she liked getting what she wanted, but she didn’t like anyone assuming she needed anything. It didn’t take an expert at emotions to figure out the why behind that.
“Force of habit. I cut mine, too,” he said, tilting his plate so she could see. “I won’t cut yours next time.” He wasn’t going to let what she’d said before that slide, though. “Are you saying I’m hot?”
“Are you saying there’s going to be a next time?” she countered, one thin brow lifted.
“I don’t know. That’s up to you after you have a taste.” He kept his gaze on her, trying not to be unnerving but also really, intensely wanting to look at her face because, man, it was a great face. She was great.
He tried to push down the excitement building in him; not sexual excitement, but an almost overwhelming happiness that he was there with her. That she’d talked to him about her problems and he’d made her laugh.
She stabbed her fork into a piece of toast. “You’re a flirt. I never would’ve guessed. You were kind of serious during The Puzzle Zone.”
He hadn’t had much to laugh about back then. He’d felt like a failure, unable to handle the stress of life that everyone else was breezing through. His relationship and career had imploded, and he’d just spun out, ending his careening back at his family’s house, where they’d worried over him and made him feel even worse.
“I was going through some things,” he said. “The puzzles helped. And so did you.”
She kept her eyes on him as she guided the food into her mouth, but they slammed shut as she began to chew.
“Okay. Yeah, we def need there to be a next time,” she said.
Gus watched her eat the next bite to make sure she was really enjoying it, and then he tucked into his own plate. After they finished, he refilled their coffee cups and they moved into the living room, where the duffel bag he’d carried with him waited. He pulled out a few miniature prototype clues for the game room as Reggie settled onto the love seat, laying them out on the coffee table next to his notebook.
He sat next to her and began moving the items around, trying to figure out how they could best flow and what was missing.
“You made all of these?” she asked. “This is incredible, and so are the sketches in your notebook. You’re an artist.”
“I’m not an artist. I’m a planner.” He opened the notebook, flipping through pages full of sketches of ideas for the room. He pushed a small folded paper spindle to sit next to a cut paper rosebush. A clay version of the Sword of Truth rested against a small wooden puzzle box he was figuring out how best to use.
“Why not both?” she asked stubbornly and Gus just grinned in return. They settled into their respective work, Reggie tapping away at some high-tech looking version of a laptop table. She was completely focused on the screen, seemed to have forgotten Gus was even there, and he couldn’t have been happier. It was so good, to be with someone who focused as intensely as he did, who would understand why he couldn’t pull himself away from a game or his design work—within reason of course.
He was sketching the design for the Phil’s Shield of Virtue, wondering where to integrate a clue into the swirling Briar’s on its surface, when he felt something warm on his face, like sunshine. When he glanced beside him, Reggie was gazing at him, her brown eyes wide behind her glasses. That’s where the warmth was coming from. Whatever she was thinking, with her lips