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“You were. I’m the one who wasn’t.”

She folded her arms loosely. “Then be clear now.”

I came around the end of the table.

Sybil stayed where she was.

“I want to date you. I want the kind of relationship where I know when you’ve got a wedding running until midnight because you told me about it over breakfast. I want you at my house when you have no reason to be there except that you wanted to come over. I want to take you to dinner and find out what we argue about when neither of us is being hunted through a corn maze.” I smiled despite myself. “I suspect we’ll find something.”

A little warmth came back into her eyes.

I stopped close enough to touch her.

“I want to keep seeing you, Sybil. I want this to be ours to choose from here.”

For several seconds she said nothing.

The studio was quiet around us. A small lamp burned near the front display. Outside, a car passed slowly enough that its headlights moved across the ceiling and disappeared.

Sybil reached for my flannel and ran her fingers over the fabric near the open collar.

“I was so angry with you at the bakery,” she said. “I kept thinking I should be relieved. I finally had my car, my schedule, my house, and my life back without somebody making security decisions for me.” Her hand closed around the edge of my shirt. “Then you started talking about clearing your things out, and all I could think was that I didn’t want the part with you in it to end.”

I covered her hand with mine.

She looked up at me.

“I want my work. I want Hollowfield back when Rick can reopen it. I want to make my own plans and be difficult when your plans are bad.” Her mouth curved slightly. “And I want you in my life when there isn’t a threat assessment attached to it.”

My hand moved to her waist.

Sybil let me pull her closer.

“I can do that.”

“I know you can. I’m deciding whether you deserve the chance after that performance at the bakery.”

“How bad was it?” I asked.

“Spectacular. You were very calm while accidentally dumping me.” She slid both arms around my neck, bringing herself against me until the soft curves of her body pressed along mine. “Dinner might help your case.”

“I was hoping dinner was part of this.”

“Dinner is a start.” Her voice softened. “I want more than a start.”

The words went straight through me.

I bent and kissed her.

There was nothing hurried about it. Sybil opened beneath my mouth, one hand sliding into my hair while the other stayed curled against my shoulder. I drew her closer, careful not to bump her bruised knee, and her body settled against mine.

Sybil made a quiet sound and tightened her fingers at my shoulder.

When the kiss finally eased, I kept my forehead against hers.

“I’m going to ask you this properly,” I said. “Will you go out with me tonight, and will you keep going out with me after tonight?”

Sybil smiled slowly.