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Ace mumbled something that sounded like, “Fine.”

Maria picked up the end of her braid and coiled it around her finger. “See anything you like, Ace?”

“Uh, yeah. I’d like one of those cinnamon rolls, please.”

“For you? Anything.” She picked one up and placed it in a paper bag before holding it out to Ace. He stepped forward and placed some gales on the counter. “It’s for my partner, actually. If she stares at it any harder, I’m worried she’ll start moaning.”

I reached out and smacked him.

Instead of retaliating, he held out the bag. “Here. You’re drooling.”

“Thanks.” I snatched the bag from his hand and pulled off one of my gloves, tucking it under my arm. Still not sure how to handle Ace playing nice, I turned back to Maria as I pulled a piece of the roll free from the bag. “I was talking to Blake earlier about that red scarf he always used to wear, and he mentioned you had it.”

I bit into the soft dough, sugar and spice coating my lips and tongue. “Phaan, this is good.”

Maria chuckled and lifted her brows. “Well, I might’ve borrowed Blake’s scarf for a while. A little memento, you know, to keep warm during the chilly nights.”

“Where is it now?” I already knew. I’d retrieved it with Sley in the storage house and it was our best clue for tracking down the thieves. I wanted to know who had it last.

“Your brother’s place,” she replied, a sly grin playing on her lips. “Left it there after a rather enchanting evening.”

I paused with a piece of pastry halfway to my mouth. “Gross.”

Maria cackled.

I shoved the roll in my mouth, wanting to distract my brain from the disturbing thought of my brother being…well, my brother.

The sugar coated my tongue, and I swallowed another bite. Danu, this was so good. I closed my eyes and licked my lips.

“Maybe getting you that was a mistake.” Ace shifted uncomfortably beside me and grimaced.

Maria turned to him, her gaze lingering. “Ace, darling, now that Emi here is taken care of, are you sure I can’t help you moan like that?”

I choked on my mouthful of pastry.

“I’m good,” Ace said, his gaze still locked on my lips.

“If you’re interested,” Maria continued. “I could show you how Paul and I used the scarf.”

“I’m not interested.” He reached out and thumped the flat of his hand on my back as I coughed.

Maria’s eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed red.

“Thanks for the cinnamon roll.” Ace grabbed my arm and turned us to leave.

I let him lead me away from the bakery as I happily inhaled the rest of the cinnamon roll. After licking my lips clean, I said, “I might need to destroy the scarf. It might be evidence, but it seems to get around and I think setting it on fire is the only viable option at this point.”

Ace shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. Before he could reply, I spotted O’Reilly at the end of the road and stopped in my tracks.

The old man stooped over the gnarled old stick he used as a cane, his weathered face scowling in our direction. Despite his appearance, I half-expected him to chase after us waving his cane and yelling threats. Instead, he shuffled away without a word, disappearing into the darkness.

“It’s just O’Reilly,” Ace reassured me. "He’s harmless.”

“You didn’t think that when he caught you pissing into his flowerpot,” I said, pulling my glove back on. “We were over on the main street and even from there we heard you screaming as you ran away.”

“I was like eight,” Ace said as he took the path toward my cabin.

“Your memory must be failing you at this old age. You were almost fifteen at the time.”