The Hidden

on.

“The tux was a nice touch,” I said. “How did you pull it off?”

“Uri. He helped me out with a couple of things. The tux, the roses … It took me a while to set everything up because I …” He looked away.

Gathering up my skirt, I pushed myself to a standing position. My legs and thighs ached, like I’d been running a marathon, and it took me a second to get used to the feeling. Caspian went over to a CD player on top of the fireplace mantel and pushed a button. Jazz filled the air, and when he returned to me, he held out his hand.

We danced through four songs, and I never wanted it to end. The candles burned lower, most of them were almost gone. I looked up at him, and he was looking down at me. His eyes were wide and focused. “What?” I asked.

“Just you. I’m just happy being with you,” he explained.

“Me too.” I sighed. “I feel all warm and gooey inside. Like chocolate chip cookies.”

“I don’t remember what chocolate tastes like.”

“You don’t?” I stared up at him in disbelief.

“No.”

“Then, we need to fix that. Come on. We are going to do some baking.” I grabbed his hand and led him to the door, stopping along the way and blowing out the remainder of the lit candles.

He followed me down to the kitchen, and I flipped on a light. It didn’t take long to assemble the ingredients, and in no time we were both elbow-deep in cookie dough.

“Taste this,” I directed him, after stirring in half a bag of chocolate chips.

I held up a spoon to his lips, and he tasted some and swallowed. A comical look crossed his face. “I don’t know if I like it,” he said, licking the corner of his lips. “It’s … weird.”

“Weird?” I waved the spoon in front of him. “Weird? What planet are you from?”

He laughed.

“Okay.” I pulled my hands out of the dough and dug into the chocolate chip bag. Producing a morsel, I held it out to him. “Try this. Tell me if this is weird.”

He bent his head closer and opened his mouth. His lips wrapped around my finger when I pulled away. His eyes caught mine. “Delicious,” he said. Then, with a mischievous look on his face, he dug a hand into the bowl of dough and tossed a tiny glob at me. It landed on my cheek.

“What?” I shrieked. “You did not just do that! Are you starting a food fight?”

His eyes said it all, and he taunted me with another handful of dough.

I retaliated with a fistful of flour. It showered down upon his head, coating his eyelashes and eyebrows, and I couldn’t stop the eruption of giggles that burst out of me.

He threw sugar next, and I shrieked again as the cold grains ran down the front of my dress. More flour was my only option, and he was laughing too, even as the front of his suit exploded in a blossom of white powder.

Caspian advanced, fingers coated with sticky cookie dough, and I laughed as I retreated. The kitchen was a mess, we were a mess, and I had dough on my face, sugar down my dress, and the threat of more coming my way.

“Truce, truce,” I called, throwing my hands up in mock surrender.

“Aye, for there to be a truce, ye will need to pay a bounty,” he growled in a terrible fake pirate accent.

I couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of his white eyebrows, and I doubled over in a heap of giggles. He pounced, and pinned me down, sticky fingers grabbing mine as he straddled me.

“The bounty,” he said. “I think we can come to an agreement.”

Pulling one of his hands down to my lips, I licked his finger clean. “Mmmmm,” I said. “Chocolate chip cookie dough has never tasted so good.”

His eyes went dark and his lips met mine. “You are so right.”

Chapter Twenty-two. LOSING TIME

But if there was a pleasure in all this, while snugly cuddling in the chimney corner of a chamber that was all of a ruddy glow from the crackling wood fire …

– “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

We left the kitchen behind and stumbled back upstairs. We were almost to the bed when I realized that we were still covered in baking supplies. “We’re all dirty,” I said, taking my mouth from his. “We’re covered in flour and sugar, and …” I wiped my cheek. “Cookie dough.”

Caspian pulled back. “You’re right. I have an idea. Stay here.”

I sat on the edge of the bed as he left me behind and went to the bathroom. An instant later I heard the sound of bath water running.

“Wait ten minutes and then come in,” he called out.

I sat and waited. An excruciating ten-minute wait. Then I got up and went over to the closet. I had an extra bathrobe in there. After pulling off my dress, I hung it up and put on the robe.

The water stopped. The bath was full.

“Are you ready?” I teased, moving closer. “It isn’t big enough for two people, you know.”

I stepped into the bathroom. Steam was scorching the mirror. Caspian was waiting by the edge of the tub, his jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up, hair and face all clean. A matching set of purple towels and a washcloth sat on the counter. Mounds of fluffy bubbles practically overflowed from the water’s edge.

He made a short bow. “This bath is for you, milady.”

“You made a bath for me?” I was impressed. And just a little bit nervous about taking off the robe in front of him. I dug one toe into the bath mat. “Can you …?” I glanced down at my robe.

He gave me a half smile, but turned his back. “Better?”

I slipped off the robe and hurried to the water. “Much.” Sinking down into the tub, I let out a groan of satisfaction. It was heavenly. Just the right temperature. I tipped my head back and slid under the water for a second, wetting my hair.

When I surfaced, Caspian had turned back around and was leaning on one knee, settled on the floor beside me. “Good?”

“The best. You’re amazing.”

His smile was beautiful, and I moved forward to kiss him. My fingers lingered in his hair, and I didn’t want to let him go.

But I’ll have to …

My throat tightened, and I cleared it brusquely. I didn’t want thoughts like those to intrude on our time together now.

“So,” I said. “Now that we’ve had our dance and made some cookies-even though we forgot to put them in the oven … What should we do next?”

“The moon?” he suggested. “Vegas? Russia? Thailand at midnight?”

“Oooh, you’re a romantic. What else?”

He rattled off a list of things to do, and places to see, and I leaned my head back and listened. It didn’t matter that we couldn’t do any of those things. Just hearing him talk like we had a future was enough for me.

I reached for the orange burlap bag of pumpkin spice bath salts that I always kept on the edge of the tub, and poured a handful in. The salts were rough beneath my fingertips, and I moved my hands through the water to make them disintegrate faster, while a memory from another time and place hit me. Another bath, where I’d put bath salts into the water. But he hadn’t been with me then, and all I could do was wonder. Now it was a completely different experience.

A clump of salt caught in my hand, and I lifted it out of the water, staring at it. The little piece of rock salt was slowly falling to pieces, and I realized that all this time I’d used these bath salts like it was just an everyday,