There was a particular scent to metal, especially the kinds I’d worked with. Sheets of high-grade steel, old car parts, and my particular favorite, which required the extra lock—copper.
“Nolan?”
I turned at Dahlia’s voice. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
She walked over, the swish of her hips in her short dress tightening my chest. She was stupidly beautiful in the early sunshine. My kneejerk reaction was to slam the door shut and not let her see this part of me. The part I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to reignite.
My fingers flexed on the door, but then I forced myself to relax.
She deserved to see this part of me too.
“What did you order? You know this is a long game, right? You can’t keep...” She trailed off. “What’s this?”
“This is the old Nolan.”
She slipped her arm through mine as she peered inside. “Is this your workshop?”
“No. But it is my gear. I was thinking about it today for the first time in a damn long time.”
She slid her hand down my forearm to link our fingers. “That’s a good thing.”
“Maybe. I don’t know yet.”
“That’s okay.”
“Yeah?” I brushed my hand down her hair. It was silky soft, and still a little damp.
“You don’t have to know everything yet, you know.”
“Good thing, because I feel like I don’t know jack crap about anything.” Slowly, I closed the door with my free hand.
“We’ll figure it out together.”
That sounded damn good to me. I lifted our linked fingers to my mouth and brushed a kiss over her hand. “But now there needs to be pancakes. And I was thinking you might want to stop at Trick or Treat with me?”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll see.”
She laughed. “Okay, that sounds intriguing.”
I led her over to the truck and opened the door for her before going back to my side.
She buckled her seatbelt. “This chivalry thing is nice.”
“I’ll keep trying to remember to do it. No promises. I’m shit about being in my head sometimes.”
“I won’t hold it against you.”
The Rusty Spoon was doing a brisk business, but we managed to find a booth at the back of the room. After some pancakes and a metric ton of bacon, we headed to the outskirts of Main Street.
“I didn’t even know there was a store out here.”
“It was an old warehouse that went out of business a dozen years ago. I bought the old building and remodeled it a bit, but I still liked the spooky vibe.”
“Just like your sister.”
“Seems like you don’t mind a bit of the macabre, Hellcat.”
“You’d be correct.” She sat straighter when I turned into the parking lot. “Holy crap!” She turned in her seat to crane her neck to keep looking at the main copper sign with the scarecrow. “Did you do that?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, I’m giving up on my Google ban for you. I’m looking up your work.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Obviously, I do. You are kidding me with this. It’s not even artwork, it’s artwork with a capital A.”
My chest tightened at the compliment. It wasn’t the one full of niceties, just the raw truth of Dahlia. The kind that I hadn’t known I needed to hear.
She hopped out before I turned off the truck and rushed to the door. The skirts of her dress twirled around her thighs as she flitted between the creepy clown and the little frog I’d made with Michael, my nephew, in mind. My breath caught at the pure wonder in her eyes as she couldn’t resist touching the head of the frog.
She left me in the dust as she rushed into the store with a delighted laugh. “You are kidding me right now.” Her head was tipped back to take in the massive Grim Reaper behind the registers.
“It’s a sight, isn’t it?” Lyric put her arms out. “He watches out for us, and who would dare steal from the till with that looking at you?”
Dahlia laughed. “That’s a fact. This place is amazing.”
