was afraid he was going to either hurt himself or break the thing.
For a moment I worried I was in for a glare of doom, for inciting impropriety or something equally silly, but instead he gave me a tiny smile. Well, it looked like a tiny smile, but it felt like an iceberg. Like there was a huge grin lurking under that starched surface. Swiftly, he took away our plates and promised to be back with the dessert in a moment.
Iris sat up, shoulders high and eyes shining. “It’s terrible, the most decadent meal I’ve had all week, but I asked them to make my favorite. Your mother’s favorite.” She leaned back in, conspiratorially. “Vanilla bean creme brûlée.”
“Never had it,” I told her honestly.
She didn’t even blink, just smiled wide and bright. “You’re going to love it.”
When the butler set a tiny dish of burnt something in front of me, I was dubious, but if it was everyone’s favorite, it must be okay. Plus, I’m usually game to try almost anything, food-wise. And other things-wise.
I followed Iris’s example, breaking the top, scooping up some of the custard and burned bits, and bringing the spoon to my mouth.
It was the most incredible thing I’d had in my entire life. Sweet vanilla custard, crunchy caramel, and—Iris was giggling, and Gideon was giving me a dark look.
No, wait, not a dark look.
Fuck, I’d been moaning like a porn star.
“I take it it’s acceptable?” Iris asked, her voice still shaking with amusement.
Tearing my gaze from Gideon, I turned to her and said, “Iris, I can honestly say it’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
She laughed again, covering her mouth with her hands. “Wicked boy. The staff will think you’re a bad influence on me.”
“I think the staff will be okay. They like Fluke, so they’ve got to take me too.” I suspected that mostly, the staff liked seeing her happy. Now, there was something I’d never expected when I’d been “invited” to dinner that first time. The people around my grandmother, employees or not, seemed to adore her.
Then I went back to my dessert and resumed not-quite-accidentally taunting Gideon with my ridiculous moaning.
He didn’t say a word, just sat there and watched me, eyes burning, filled with frustrated want. If there’d been some chance I could change it, that we could go home and fall into each other, it would have been a heady feeling.
Instead, when I met his eyes over the last scrape of sweet cream, I suspected I was going to be spending some extra quality time in the shower when I got home. Fluke would have to wait for me to finish my shower in the hall instead of on the fluffy bathroom rug.
I loved him, but I wasn’t giving him a show, nor did I think he wanted one.
Gideon, on the other hand.
Gideon might like a show.
I glanced over at him. He was still watching me, and our eyes caught.
“Oh,” Iris whispered, more breath than voice, and we both snapped to attention, turning to look at her. She was looking at me, then Gideon, and back again. “Oh, boys,” she finally said, tinged with sadness.
Gideon cleared his throat. “Sorry, ma’am, we didn’t intend to—”
“To fall in love?” she asked, and we both recoiled.
“We’ve known each other like a week and a half,” I pointed out. “We’re not in love. It’s—” that, of course, was when I realized I was about to tell my grandmother that sure I wanted to fuck the hot dead cowboy, but I wasn’t sure I actually had feelings for him.
Maybe not the thing to say.
Gideon was giving me a whole lot of side-eye for a guy who’d clearly been thinking the same thing. He’d just realized how inappropriate it was to say it to her before opening his mouth.
“It doesn’t really matter, Mrs. McKinley,” he told her. “Sage is learning quick, and as soon as he’s all trained up, I’ll be gone. Best we don’t go getting too sentimental over it.”
“Over you,” she corrected. When his brows drew together in confusion, she went on. “You’re not an it. You don’t want us to get sentimental over you. You want us to accept that you’re going to be gone soon, and there’s nothing we can do.”
He nodded, though it was a little hesitant, clearly expecting a “gotcha” moment. He didn’t seem to understand that had been the gotcha. He had dismissed the importance of his own existence, so he didn’t think anyone else