Ash

Mads had never been more uncooperative. It didn't matter where I cornered her, or what I said to restore the peace. She refused to tell me anything informative other than 'stay away' or possibly 'don't even think about it'. She made her point several times over—in the garden, barging into my office, while snacking in the kitchen, in front of others at the pub—enough that I wondered if I'd gone insane. I couldn't remember doing anything that could illicit such a response.

But it had to be something. The look he'd given me that night had been clear enough, filled with more pain than I cared to remember.

What did I do?

"You're hopeless, Ash. What the hell is wrong with you these days?" Randy asked, crossing his arms in an act of deliberate aggression. At first I thought he'd joined forces with Mads, but that couldn't be it. "Your attention span is shorter than a five-year old's."

Relieved that Randy hadn't read my thoughts, I smiled despite his attitude. He had every right to complain. He'd downed his second beer while I still cradled my first. I didn't make for a good companion, missing perhaps half of what he told me while I thought about Raven.

"Are we having food?" I asked, changing the topic. I should have apologized, but that would require explanations I had no intention of voicing. Randy still held Raven in contempt for no reason.

"I ordered for both of us at the bar while you were busy ignoring me."

Dory stood behind the counter, sneaking glances in our direction. I was well aware of her hopeless tendency to attach herself to those she knew were unavailable. I'd seen it before, and I had a feeling it had to do with her shitty father. He'd been around while I was in my early twenties, unsettling the village with his nasty comments and lack of compassion. Dory never said a word about him, good or bad, but everyone knew she'd been the target of more than one drunken rage and wayward fist. I had no idea if he was still alive. Anyway, he'd given her good reason to avoid men altogether.

"I thought you said you wouldn't give her false hopes." If anything Randy's tone was even more hostile.

"What?"

"You're staring at her."

"Shut up."

Randy pressed his elbows against the table, fixing me with a hard stare. "That stick up your ass must really chafe the way you've been growling this week."

As the silence stretched with threads of tension, I struggled to keep a straight face. The laughter bubbled up to the surface in time with Randy's growing smile. He'd sounded absolutely serious. "Stick up my ass, you say?"

Randy's shoulders moved with the chuckles. "Or not enough ass for your cock. Take a pick."

I wanted to groan. "Has it really been that bad?"

"Man, I've never seen you more distracted. And you're fighting with Mads. What the heck is that all about?"

My fingers almost slipped along the glass as I downed a few gulps of much needed alcohol. If that was because I'd left it to condense or if my hands were sweating, I didn't know. "I wish I knew, to be honest. She's mad, but she refuses to tell me why." I hesitated to tell him for fear of making an even bigger mess of everything.

"That doesn't sound like Mads," Randy commented. It was a fair assessment. Mads usually kept it simple, telling people exactly what was wrong, often several times if they didn't listen the first. Her honesty was liberating most of the time.

"You're right, so maybe you get why I'm frustrated."

Randy leaned closer. The pub was less crowded than a Friday night, but still held enough people to keep the volume at a steady beat. If you wanted to say something that wouldn't be caught by your fellow drinker by the next table, you had to sit close enough to make it work. Indeed, Randy lowered his voice. "Does this have to do with that museum guy?"

"You know his name, Randy. Don't get nasty again; he's done nothing to deserve it."

Randy's lips folded back into a grin, all teeth and narrowed eyes. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"The way you're defending him. Against all form of common sense, you've been desperate to get into his pants since he arrived. I tell you, it's a bad idea."

"We all agree it's a bad idea."

My tone must have been more of a snarl than I'd noticed because Randy raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. "Calm down, will you? All I'm saying is that I'm seeing a lot of warning signs. You've never acted like this in the past, and it doesn't seem to make you any happier."

"I'd be a lot happier if you two weren't harping about it. Especially since I've not done anything."

Randy sat quiet for a moment, studying me with obvious disbelief, then he clinked our glasses. "Fine, it was just a friendly warning. Nothing to be all worked up about. Now, cheers, let's enjoy the rest of our freedom for tonight."

"Cheers." I didn't sound very cheerful at all.

****

Two days later, my situation was much the same. Mads hadn't budged an inch, Raven still avoided me, and Randy kept the commentary running. I was tired of the entire situation, which meant I had to solve it somehow.

Raven hadn't seen me coming, hadn't heard my approach. He was sitting in the library, staring out the window as if lost in thought. His gaze stayed firmly locked on something unseen.

I should have cleared my throat to get his attention, but I couldn't stop staring. He was circling the tip of his finger with the pad of his thumb, a distracted motion of tactile comfort. Around and around, again and again. I could almost feel the caress, or wanted to feel it.

It stopped suddenly, then he blinked. I caught his reflection in the glass, no longer invisible.

"Have you found any treasures today?" I said, hoping to put him at ease.

"Treasures?" He finally turned his head toward me, showing me those wary eyes and the frown I wanted to erase. "I didn't think..." He didn't finish that statement.

"That I cared?" I didn't, but I cared about him enough to want him relaxed inside my house.

"Yes."

"I wish I could see those things as you do, but I don't." That was the truth at least.

He granted me the smallest of smiles, a gentle, fleeting thing. "I've made progress, but I'm finding more clues than answers."

I pulled one of the comfy leather chairs closer to the window, allowing a moment of silence to pass between us. Relaxing against the backrest, I waited for the right moment to approach untold words that needed to be said.

It didn't come. I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"What kind of clues?" I asked instead.

Raven glanced toward the table. "I'm not even sure. I'm reading the records from the mid-17th century, but they are..." he trailed off, resuming the circular motion between his thumb and forefinger. "There's something missing, or perhaps something deliberately left out."

"Ah, a family secret. I wondered when you would stumble onto one of those." I'd meant that in a humorous way, but I instantly tensed, knowing this was one of those touchy subjects. He'd not reacted well last time around. "Let me know if you find anything amusing, or better yet, letters filled with intrigue and questionable decisions. I'm sure we have it all."

Raven released the softest of chuckles, a burst of warmth and true joy that trailed along my skin. "I will let you know." His steel grey eyes sparkled, finer than they'd ever been before.

I was fighting a losing battle.

"Do you need help?" I'd not meant to ask. I didn't even have time for this.

He blinked, confused. "I'm not entirely sure what you're asking." He waited for me to reply, but my response was too slow. "If you want this done quicker, I can absolutely call one of my colleagues back in London. I'm sure someone would like the chance to stay here for a few weeks or more. Summer is approaching, and they'll be waiting to get out of the city."

He'd given me a perfect way out, but as his words sank in, they soured. I didn't want someone else in the house, especially not if that other person meant that I'd never get another one of these precious moments alone with Raven. One more person meant less of him, less of us.

"No, I meant that I could help out. Maybe not every day, but I bet two pair of eyes will make it quicker. And, I'm pretty sure I remember how to read."

I was coming on too strong. I could see it when his shoulders tensed, his fingers tight against the armrests.

"That would be nice." His voice said something completely different, but I feared that backing out would make it even worse.

"Wonderful. I'll leave you alone for tonight. I have some paperwork to handle before the offices close in London." I rose from the chair, feeling the need to give him some space to sort through this new situation alone.

I'd joined him in the library with the sole intention of asking him what was going on, but that hadn't gone as planned. Obviously, I could no longer trust myself around him.

A/N Something to tide you over before the weekend :) I'm trying to get some writing done here while I'm in Paris and all alone with my laptop at night. So, hopefully more updates, but no promises. Also, how do you like the new cover? I'm aiming for a 'bookstore' look. Trying to get all professional here XD