After our hostess leaves once more, this time with Talon to go see about the furnace, Luke finally sets me down on the couch.“You might want to get out of those cold clothes before you catch the flu.”
“Okay,” I say, and get up to do just that.
Then I realize both men are still in the room. They look at each other and clear their throats awkwardly, turning their backs.
“We can leave.”
“You don’t have to,” I say, amused. “You’ve already seen it all. Also, there’s a bathroom. I can just go in there.”
I don’t know why I keep making jokes. Maybe because of the awkwardness, or maybe because I’m trying to put off the inevitable for as long as possible.
It doesn’t work.
Reid turns around and says the dreaded words:
“We need to talk.”
CHAPTER 30
Reid
The air wraps around us, thick and suffocating, like a held breath. No one moves. Not really. Even the fire seems hesitant, its first few flames licking uncertainly at the logs as if it, too, feels the weight pressing in on us.
Sierra doesn't look surprised. She knew this was coming. Her shoulders tighten almost imperceptibly, and she folds her hands together in her lap like she's afraid they'll move and give something away.
Her expression is resigned. "Yeah, we do."
Luke is still focused on the fireplace, crouched slightly as he adjusts one of the logs, nudging it into place with the poker. The fire crackles a little louder in response. The scent of woodsmoke drifts out, mixing with the warm amber note of old varnish and the sharper, sour edge of spilled ale that’s never quite left the floorboards. It’s a lived-in smell. Grounding. Familiar.
Sierra’s gaze drifts to the small deer head mounted above the fireplace. She stares at it for a second too long, like she’s studying it, but I know she’s not really seeing it. She’s waiting. Waiting for Luke to turn around. Waiting to pull him into this whether he wants it or not.
We should probably wait for Talon to finish whatever he’s doing to the furnace downstairs, but who knows how long that’ll take.
At that moment, the door swings open as though answering the thought.
Talon steps in, wiping his hands on a clean rag, his expression unreadable as ever. “Done.”
“You fixed it already?” I ask, straightening slightly.
“He did!” our host calls from the hallway before Tal can answer. Her voice is bright, almost giddy with relief as her footsteps approach, quick and uneven against the old boards. “In just two minutes, he did the impossible, and now we have hot water rushing through our pipes again. Oh, praise be! That would have taken Hal a whole decade to fix, and he would have charged us an arm and a leg for it, too.” She beams up at Tal like he’s just performed a miracle. “Oh, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me. How about you take the room for free today, as payment for the help?”
“That’s not necessary,” I say automatically, even as Tal shakes his head beside me. “He’s happy to help.”
“No, I insist! He’s the best plumber we’ve ever had, and I’m sure he must charge an arm and a leg for his services. I can’t in good conscience take the help without giving him something back.”
“No, it’s really okay,” Tal says. “I’m fine.”
“No, but?—”
“How about some apple pie as payment?” Luke cuts in, rising from the fireplace at last, clearly sensing this is going nowhere fast. “Can’t lie, I’ve had a craving for it since I left, but couldn’t justify driving all the way up here just for that.”
“Oh yes.” She claps her hands together, delighted. “Of course. I’ll make a whole tray just for you. Will supper at six-thirty be alright for you?”
“Perfect.”
“Great. Thanks again.” She squeezes Tal’s arm warmly before heading off down the stairs, still muttering to herself about hot water and miracles.
The door swings shut behind her.