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“You mean like the places with tablecloths and bone china?”

“Exactly.” Suddenly Anthony pictured a big werewolf like Nick holding a delicate teacup with his pinkie sticking out. He almost laughed, but the hopeful excitement on Claudia’s face stopped him.

“We could have light lunches—like soups and salads. Of course the requisite finger sandwiches, scones, tea, and other beverages too, but no alcohol,” she said. Jumping up, she added, “Maybe we could even strike a deal with the bakery next door and have them make the scones and cakes for us.”

If Anthony had second thoughts, he’d just have to squelch them. A tea parlor would be perfect for the two ladies in his life. And who knew, maybe paranormals would be willing to meet there, even without the alcohol.

He could see the female paranormal population more comfortable in a place like that. And he remembered how Kurt and Tory always complained about the lack of available women. Well, guys, problem solved.

Almost. First he had to rebuild. Getting permits, hiring contractors, all that would take time, but he’d done it before. Telling his old regulars about the new venue without becoming a laughingstock would be trickier.

* * *

The following evening, Claudia answered her buzzer and was delighted to hear Anthony’s voice.

“I bring glad tidings.”

“Oh? And what are those?”

“Books about our new business, so we won’t come off as neophytes to avid tea aficionados.”

“Oh, thank goodness. Come on up!”

When he arrived at her door, she was ready and waiting to greet him. She’d combed her hair and put on makeup. It had felt good to make the effort.

He smiled at her. “You look like you’re feeling better.”

“I am.”

“Good, because I want to take you out to other tea rooms in the city. My research has turned up only a few, and most are in pricey hotels, so…”

Her face fell.

“What did I say?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Claudia?”

Over the past five years, she’d learned to read his various facial expressions, and the one he was wearing now meant, “Don’t try to spare my feelings. Just tell me the truth.”

“I—uh…I’m embarrassed about how badly I let myself go. It’s a wonder you want…well, anything to do with me.”

He placed gentle hands on her shoulders. “How can you think that? I care about you. More than you may believe right now.”

She nodded. She cared about him too—definitely more than he suspected. She was in love with him and had been for years.

Anthony sat on the couch and patted the spot next to him. “Let’s begin before we get distracted.”

She sat a short distance away. If she were going to minimize distractions, she’d have to avoid touching him.

He read aloud. “With more varietals in China than there are wine grape varietals in all of France, tea dazzles us with its diversity. But there is only one plant. Even with the endless complexities and variations in all the teas of the world, every tea springs from the singular plant species Camellia sinensis.”

“Well, there’s something,” Claudia said. “Only one complicated scientific name to memorize.”

“I don’t think we need to memorize species, genus, and phylum, darling.”

“Good, because my brain isn’t cooperating yet.”

“What do you mean?”

She hung her head. “I mean, I’m still just clearing up. I knew the bar business backward and forward and could run the place in my sleep—or a stupor, as it were. This is new learning, and I’m a little afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“That my previous stupors turned me stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. If anything…” Anthony sat closer and put an arm around her shoulder. “We have plenty of time and we’ll learn it together.”

“I don’t know. I’ve already forgotten the name of the species.”

Anthony chuckled. “So have I. Let’s not worry about that now.” He returned his attention to the book. “Black tea is the most common tea in North America. It is produced when withered tea leaves are rolled and allowed to oxidize. This darkens the leaves and develops flavor, color, and body in the leaf.”

He rubbed her shoulder as he continued to read. “The tea is dried to halt the oxidation process and lock in these characteristics. The result is a robust cup with bright or lively notes that are perfect for breakfast teas, with about half as much caffeine as a similarly sized cup of coffee.”

“Anthony, stop.”

“I’m sorry. Was it the word ‘oxidation’ that threw you?”

She shook her head. “Not the words this time. It’s you.”

He leaned back and studied her face. “Me?”

“Yes. Rubbing my shoulder, your thigh against mine. All I want to do is throw that book across the room and kiss you.”

He laughed. “I’d like nothing better.” He started to close the book.

“No. We have to learn this. I—I just think I should sit in the armchair.” She rose quickly and moved to the chair. Now there was a table between them. “Okay. Keep reading.”

He paused and she could sense his inner struggle. Maybe he was getting distracted too.

At last, he refocused on the book. “Green tea is gaining popularity in America. It is produced when tea leaves are heated or steamed right after being harvested. This halts the oxidation process, preserving the leaf’s emerald hue and naturally occurring antioxidants and amino acids… Uh-oh. Here comes another one of those words. Theanine.”

He placed the book upside down on the table. “Why don’t I just go through this with a highlighter and pick out the stuff we really need to know?”

“But I really want to—” Her protest was cut short when he picked her up and laid her on the sofa, then covered her body with his and kissed her.

She snaked her arms around his neck and back. As their tongues dueled, she grabbed a fistful of hair at the nape of his neck, intending to pull him away. She couldn’t do it. Instead, she released her grip and combed her fingers through the hair covering his collar. Her other hand caressed his back. His cock grew and teased her in just the right spot. The flare of desire caused her to buck against him.

A sane thought finally broke through her lust-filled haze. We can’t do this. Not yet.

Fortunately, Anthony’s restraint seemed to kick in at the same time. Pushing himself to his feet, he said, “I’m sorry.”

She struggled to sit up. “Don’t be. It’s just Mother Nature’s way of ensuring the human species continues.”

His brows shot up.

“Oh, no,” she quickly added. “I didn’t mean that we should… You know…”

“Procreate?”

She giggled. “Sorry. This whole thing is a discussion for another time.”

“Maybe not.” He sat beside her. “I can’t have children. You should know that in case you want one.”

“No! I mean, no. I have enough to deal with.”

“Yes. Right now you do. But you should know that for the future. If you were hoping for a family someday, it wouldn’t be right for me to keep you from that goal.”

“Anthony, I’m not harboring secret dreams of white picket fences. The work staff and regulars were my family. I’m fine with keeping it that way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He sagged against the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”