It was Dani who finally broke away, panting and rosy-lipped.
It was a good thing she did because he was drunk already. Years without kisses had made him a terrible lightweight.
“You’re probably right,” she gasped, resting her brow against his chest, her hands sliding from his cheeks and back to her own heart.
“I am?” he whispered, trying not to slur his words.
“Yes. I don’t think I will survive a dabbling.”
“No?” Now what were they talking about? He couldn’t think straight.
“No,” she whispered. “Because I will fall in love with you.”
The word love woke him up a bit, and he took a moment to order his thoughts. No, no, no. This would not do at all.
He released her decidedly and stepped back, ending the torture. “No, you won’t, Dani. You’ll just think you’re in love with me because you have no one and nothing to compare it to.”
She seemed to consider that, her eyes searching his, her lips parted, and he almost returned to them.
“Must we try everything to know something is wonderful?” she asked softly. “I don’t think so.”
She had him there. He took another step back from her and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, determined not to think about how truly wonderful it had been.
“Do you think you might be afraid of falling in love with me too?” she asked, her voice trembling. Was it fear that he would say yes? Or fear he would say no?
“Oh, Dani,” he said, feeling an ache in his chest that he couldn’t readily identify. But again, he could not answer her question.
“Is it too soon?” she asked gently. “Irene has not been gone very long.”
“Yes, it’s too soon,” he said. It would always be too soon. And it didn’t really have anything to do with Irene. At least . . . not in the way Dani meant.
She nodded, accepting that in silence, and he stared past her face for several seconds, collecting himself. He needed her to go, but she remained where she was, hands clasped and her eyes on the floor.
“Steve came by when you were gone,” she said in a rush.
“Steve?” He frowned, reeling at the change of subject. His legs were still trembling from that kiss.
“The boy who gave you the checkered cap? He was wearing your fedora and your overcoat. I found him standing in front of the house. He wanted to talk to Mike. I assumed that was you.”
He waited.
“He said he would check back, but he had some information you might want to know. He also said you would pay him. So I gave him a dime, and he told me instead. I promised to pass along the information.”
“W-what?” Malone sputtered.
“He seemed eager to tell someone.”
“Dani!”
“Yes?” Her brow furrowed.
“This is not a game. You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Do you want to know what he said or not?” she snapped, throwing up her hands, revealing her own loss of equilibrium. “And you owe me a dime.”
“Tell me,” he ground out, clenching his teeth over a sudden urge to laugh, and she obeyed, parroting the conversation seemingly word for word—he said, then I said—like she was afraid of missing something.
“I don’t think the boy—Steve—is really afraid he’ll be run down like Pete Kostura,” she finished, worrying her lower lip.
“No?”
“No. Otherwise he would have told you about Kostura’s death when you first met. I think he wants to string you along, keep you coming back to him for information.”
“Yeah, well that’s the life of a snitch. He’s figured it out early.”
“But, Michael . . . when he said someone was asking questions about you, and you didn’t come home . . . I was afraid.”
He sighed, ashamed of himself. None of this was Dani’s fault. Not really. But he needed her to keep her distance from him and from his work.
“I am sorry I frightened you. I will be more mindful in the future,” he promised. He made himself meet her gaze, and the weakness in his limbs immediately returned. He sat down on his bed, suddenly too weary to stand. “We still have to talk about you . . . touching my things. But not now. Tomorrow.”
She looked like she wanted to defend herself, to continue hashing it all out mere feet from each other, but she swallowed back whatever it was that bubbled in her throat and let it be.
“Good night then, Michael,” she whispered.
“Good night, Dani.”