own, not at all daunted by the interested looks she’s getting from her two friends.
I imagine Mabel is doing much the same thing.
When Blue finishes drilling, Indigo guides my arms down around her waist. “You could paint out here. It had really great light for the ten minutes yesterday that the sun came out.”
I set my chin on the top of her head. “You have no idea how much of a mess I make when I paint. Violet would toss me over the balcony railing, and deservedly so.”
A quick grin from the woman in question. “I only toss things that don’t belong.”
Oof. I eye her carefully, but she’s already gone back to chatting with Mabel, who apparently has opinions on things that could be added to the garden planter.
Hopefully they aren’t carnivorous.
INDIGO
I watch as Blue picks up a drink, her hook safely installed, and uses it to salute Mabel’s corner. Then she nods at Drew. Time for the heavy lifting. Which is a concession on her part—one that she only makes when she feels like her abilities aren’t at all in question.
I manage not to pout as warm arms unwrap themselves from around my waist.
Violet shoots me an amused look. Then she reaches for a pretty piece of sea glass and starts explaining its history. Knowing her, that includes a tale of the hands that once crafted it, the pain of its breaking, and several centuries’ worth of really fascinating travel stories.
Violet only brings home the really old glass.
Drew smiles at me as he supports the planter from underneath. “Thank you for making Mabel feel welcome.”
I snort and take a drink from the tray. “I haven’t done a darn thing. Violet’s charming her and Blue is apparently going to build her a closet distillery.” Which sums up my friends in a nutshell—and says some interesting things about their feelings on having Drew in our midst.
His package deal and mine do oddly well together.
He waits for a nod from Blue and lets go of the planter. Then his arms wrap back around me. “If I get arrested for my illegal hooch supply, Mabel likes to have her yarn wound into balls and the bedroom window open even in the dead of winter.”
That warms me somewhere unexpected. A ghost with quirks—and a man who accommodates them.
I cover his fingers with mine. I touch, always. He’s the first person in a long time to easily, instinctively meet me there. It’s soothing in a way that I don’t have any words to explain.
Blue glances at us as she climbs down off the balcony railing. I don’t miss the flicker of sadness in her eyes. Neither does Drew. His hands tighten around my waist and then prepare to release me.
I take a firmer hold on his fingers. That would just make Blue sadder.
She takes a drink from the tray and leans against the railing next to him, mostly because that’s the only space left if she doesn’t want to get eaten by Violet’s new hanging garden. “So. Movie selections. International art heist or long, overly dramatic kissing scenes? Please note that there’s only one right answer.”
I can feel his amusement. “I vote for art heists. But I need to state for the record that while I enjoy a good heist, most of those movies treat the artwork they steal with a disturbing lack of respect.”
Blue snickers and hands him her drink. “Right. Maybe have another one of these before we start the movie, then.”
He holds it up and studies it with the kind of look that I usually reserve for mysterious substances at the back of my fridge.
I guide it in my direction and take a sip.
It tastes like sweet, delicious temptation.
Chapter Sixteen
DREW
The movie pauses, yet again. It seems to do that every time someone has something to say, and so far, I don’t think any of the conversation has been about the movie.
Which is good. I haven’t exactly been paying it a lot of attention. I have Indigo cuddled against me on one side and Mabel holding an enormous bowl of popcorn on the other, and that’s a situation that has had my neurons tied in confused knots.
Indigo leans around me and reaches for the popcorn. “So, Mabel, do you happen to know when you were born?”
My neurons wriggle uncomfortably, some of them because I still can’t answer that question, and others because those are some warm and lovely curves that keep brushing against me on their way to the popcorn bowl.
Silence on my