And if he decided that he’d be better if she didn’t know about his curse? What if he was embarrassed by the fact that not only did she know, she’d experienced it firsthand?
And what if he came to blame her for the lightning bug attack?
He wouldn’t be wrong. She was the reason they’d gone into the enchanted forest.
Either way, there was nothing she could do to counteract those things. They were done deals. History.
All she could do was keep moving forward and hope she was wrong. Actually, she’d never wanted to be wrong so much in her life.
“This cake is amazing.”
She glanced at his plate. “And almost gone. I guess you really were hungry.”
“Still am.”
“So have a second piece.”
He shook his head. “I need protein. A steak. Or a burger, maybe.”
She looked at the clock on the microwave behind him. “It is lunchtime. A little past, actually. You want me to go into town and get something?”
“No, I want to go out.”
“You feel well enough?”
He stared at her for a moment. “I do. So long as we go anywhere but the pub.”
She laughed. But was that a clue about what was on his mind? “Okay. The diner? They have good burgers.”
“Let’s do it.” He licked the remaining chocolate crumbs off his fork. “Then we can come back here and have more cake.”
She shook her head, smiling. She was being silly with all this overthinking. Would a man who wanted to be rid of her invite her back to his house? Chances were, he wouldn’t. Why was she stressing about this? She needed to stop and let things happen as they were going to happen. Wasn’t that the plan anyway?
And if Easy decided at some point that he didn’t want to get to know her again, or to see what could be with them again, he would tell her. Because he was a nice guy, but he was also a straight-up guy.
The night they’d gone to the pub, he’d told her about his book deal and the workload that was going to make him scarce. Proof that he wasn’t the type to hide what was going on with him.
Easy drove, and at the diner, they settled into a booth and ordered. Burgers for both of them, complete with fries and chocolate malts.
Conversation was light and easy, and halfway through the meal, Ginny felt like things were back to how they’d been before the lightning bug attack. She knew they weren’t really, but she could sense what was possible now. See a bright, beautiful light at the end of what had felt yesterday like an impossibly dark tunnel.
Hope grew inside her again.
She picked up a fry. “Are you going to write this all down?”
He nodded, burger in one hand. “Everything. What we ate, where we sat, what our server’s name was. The more details the better, I figure.”
Yeah, this was not a man about to tell her it wasn’t working. This was a man working to keep her. The thought filled her heart with gratitude and happiness. And love.
His gaze narrowed as his mouth curved up. He pointed at her with a fry. “Your eyes are glowing. What are you thinking about?”
She glanced at her plate, suddenly a little shy. “You. And how lucky I am that you’re willing to go through all this.”
“Willing to go through all—” He leaned forward. “You’re the one that has to shoulder the bulk of the burden. The one who has to deal with me not remembering.”
“True, but the way I see it, you’re the one with the heavy lifting to do. You have to write it all down, reread it all the time in hopes of remembering. Deal with me knowing more…” She shrugged. “I guess we both have our part to play.”
He nodded. “We do. But I think it’s been so long since you’ve had real human interaction that you’ve forgotten the lengths people are willing to go for someone they care about.”
He cared about her. All she could do was smile and whisper, “Thank you.”
He winked at her. “Thank you. I still haven’t repaid you for all the work you did at my house.”
“You’re doing that right now.” She picked up her burger again. “Speaking of work, are you getting back on schedule with the writing tomorrow?”
“I have to. But I’m not waiting until tomorrow. I’m starting this afternoon when we get back.”
“Good. I’m glad. I don’t want you to get behind. Hey, tonight after you hit your goal, you want to come over for dinner? Nothing fancy. I was going to roast a chicken. Make some mashed potatoes.”
“That sounds great. I’d love to. It’ll be a good motivator to get the words done.” He smiled. “I think the more time we spend together, the better.”
“Me, too.” She took a bite of her burger, happier than she’d thought she could be after everything that had happened.
“What are you doing with your day tomorrow?”
“A little work in the morning, then I’ll go visit my aunt, run a few errands, then home to work until it’s time to make dinner. Nothing exciting. Oh, you know, I still haven’t finished your garage.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. Maybe sometime I could go visit your aunt with you.”
“She’d like that. She asked me to bring you by.”
His brows lifted, and he held a fry midair. “You told your aunt about me?”
“I did.”
“Then I really do need to meet her, don’t I?”
Ginny smiled, her entire being happy. “You do. She’d love you. But she’s not always completely there. Just so you know. Sometimes she’s right as rain, others…she struggles.”
Concern and understanding filled his gaze. “My grandfather lost his battle with Alzheimer’s a few years back. I know that’s not what your aunt has, but I understand what good days and bad days are for someone with cognition problems.”
Ginny ran a fry through the dwindling pool of ketchup on the edge of her plate. “Then you know, for sure. It’s hard. I hate the bad days. She’s the woman who raised me. As much my mother as my real mom was. And all I want is for her to be herself again. The vibrant, funny, wonderful woman who put her life on hold to take care of me.”
“If I can get back into a good rhythm with this book and get ahead by a chapter, maybe we could take her to Nightingale Park. It’s in my journal that it’s a good place to go for sun. If you think she’d like that sort of thing.”
“She’d love it. I was thinking about taking her up there anyway.” Ginny nodded, so overwhelmed with affection for the man across from her that she thought she might blurt out how she truly felt about him. But now wasn’t the time for that. Not by a long shot. “I’ve taken her up there before, and she’s always loved it. I love it. It’s funny, after you’ve lived here awhile, you kind of forget about the sun. But take a day and go above the twilight line, and you’ll feel like a switch has been flipped inside you. It’s amazing what a few hours of sunlight can do for you.”
“Then we’ll do it. For sure. More writing motivation for me. And trust me, I need it. The promise of the bonus money is great, but rewards of fun seem to work better.” He shrugged. “Not sure what that says about me that fifty big ones don’t drive me as much as a picnic in the sun.”
She ate her last fry. “I think it says volumes about what an amazing person you are.”
Burger finished, he wiped his hands off. “I think you’re pretty amazing, too. And as much as I hate to end this lunch, I really should get to work.”
“Me, too.” She picked up the remaining piece of her burger. “Does that mean you’re feeling pretty good now?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “I wouldn’t say I’m a hundred percent, but the pain is pretty minimal.” He glanced at his arms. “Welts are mostly gone. They still itch a little. Probably a sign they’re healing. I have a feeling tonight’s going to be an early one, though.”
“Then don’t worry about coming over for dinner tonight. We’ve both had a long day. I’ll make the chicken and mashed potatoes tomorrow.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “Okay, that would be good. I’m already starting to feel like I could crash.”
“Same here. I only had a few hours of sleep.”
He paid the bill and drove them back home. He parked in his driveway, then got out and came around to her side to open her door. “I’ll walk you to your porch.”
She laughed as she got out. “It’s not that far. You don’t have to.”
He reached around her to close her door, putting himself in her personal space. “I want to.”
Her breath caught at the commanding tone of his voice. It was as if his wolf was speaking to hers. And hers was listening. “Okay.”
They came around the back of the car, went down to the sidewalk, and made the small trek to her front porch.
He put his hand on the small of her back as they went up the steps.
She unlocked her door, but didn’t open it. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for lunch.”
“You’re welcome. And you will see me tomorrow.” Then he leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth, lingering for only a second and zapping her with a little spark of static electricity.
Her breath was stuck again, keeping her from saying anything.
“Too soon?” he asked, eyes glowing.
She shook her head—she could manage that much—and whispered, “No.”
“Good. Because I really wanted to do this.” He threaded his hands through her hair and pulled her close, covering her mouth with his in a kiss that wasn’t nearly as soft or gentle as the first one, something she was perfectly happy about.
The kiss lasted longer, too. Long enough to send a shiver of pleasure through her, long enough to raise the hair on her arms, long enough to make her knees melt.
Long enough to erase any lingering doubt about his commitment to getting to know her again.
She grabbed hold of his waist as his arms encircled her. He was a hard plane of warm muscle, and the low rumbly growl vibrating out of his throat set parts of her on fire.
At last, he took his mouth off hers, but held on to her. “I want to run with you some night soon.”
She nodded. “Me, too.”
He pulled her hand to his mouth, kissed her knuckles, then released her. “See you for dinner tomorrow, Ginny French.”
“Tomorrow. After your words are done.”
“Exactly.” He went down the steps, but kept glancing back at her. When he hit the yard, he waved and crossed toward his house.
She waved back, but watched him walk away until he was on his own property again, headed for his own porch. Then she went in, closed the door, and leaned against it. Today had started out as a very bad day, but it sure had done a one-eighty.
That was life in Shadowvale, though. You never knew what the day might bring you.
And while she and Easy might not be back to where they were before the lightning bug attack, things were looking good.
Really good.
With a smile, Ginny went to her office to get some work done. She couldn’t wait to give Aunt Gwen the amazing update.
Tomorrow was going to be even better. Ginny just had a feeling.
Chapter Twenty-two
After walking through his front door, the first thing Easy did was write in his journal. He didn’t want to lose a single detail about the afternoon, so he wrote and wrote and wrote. Nothing was too small to include.
He hung on to the memories better than he thought he would, maybe because of the cerebellex powder. Whatever the reason was for him being able to remember her, he didn’t waste a moment.
But even as he filled the pages of his journal, Ginny’s name and face were being pulled from his memory. He took out his phone and brought up the pictures he’d taken of them, as well as a few he’d snuck of her alone. He made one of them the home screen on his phone just like he’d told her.
The sensation of losing her from his mind didn’t go away, though. It was a struggle to keep her there. Even with the pictures and the journal. That made him sad. And angry. After everything he’d read about her in his notes and the great lunch they’d had, he wanted to remember her more than ever.
But her curse had other ideas.
At last, he’d put everything he could remember into the day’s entry. He closed his journal, left himself a note to read it, then went to work on his book.
He managed what he could. A little more than half a chapter, which wasn’t enough, but by nine he was fading. He popped a few aspirin against the final dregs of pain, eked out one more paragraph, then saved his work and went to crash on the couch and watch baseball.
He was less than an inning into the game when the itching started up again. He slathered on some of the ointment. Relief followed, and he could feel himself nodding off.
Less than an inning after that and he gave in to the urge to sleep. He woke up to light outside the windows and a regional morning news show on the TV.
He rubbed his face. Sleeping on the couch wasn’t really his thing, but he felt surprisingly good.
Then it struck him. No more pain or itching. None. He checked his arms. The welts were completely gone. Not a single mark or scar remained.
Outstanding. The day they’d lasted was enough. He sat up and yawned, staring at the news without really seeing it. Amazing the television hadn’t woken him up during the night, but apparently he’d been so tired he’d slept straight through. Well, he wasn’t tired anymore, and it was time to get his day going.
He turned the television off, then went into the kitchen to start some coffee.
He got a pot going, then stretched. It was good to move without pain. What he needed was a run. In his wolf form, sure, but he knew better than to do that in the neighborhood, no matter how lenient the town might be about supernaturals.
So a run in human form would have to do. It wasn’t a hardship. It was how he’d started most of his mornings when he’d lived in the city. While the coffee brewed, he went to the bedroom and changed into shorts and a T-shirt, then tied on his trainers and went back to the kitchen.
He had a feeling he was forgetting something, but then again, he hadn’t had coffee yet. It wasn’t quite ready, so he went into his office to fire up his laptop and check email.
The light switch zapped him when he turned on the light. He frowned. Man, that was getting old. It was only a small annoyance, but one he’d like to be done with all the same. Like a hangnail.
He sat at his desk and peeled the sticky note off his computer. Read your journal.
Why had he left himself that note? He wrote in his journal daily, but he didn’t usually read it. He opened the drawer where he kept it and was greeted with another note telling him to read yesterday’s entry.
He flipped to that page. And found it was nearly three pages long on both sides of the paper. This would need coffee and more than a minute. Thankfully, the coffeepot sputtered with the sounds of the brew being done. He took the journal into the kitchen and poured a big mug of coffee, then took both out onto the back patio.
Steam rose off the pool in the cool morning air, giving his backyard a lot more atmosphere than usual. He stretched out on one of the chaises, took a sip of coffee, then with mug in hand, started reading.
Between the coffee and the journal entry, he was well and truly awake.
He glanced from his handwriting to the house next door. Where Ginny French lived. The name was new to him, but at the same time, it wasn’t somehow. He didn’t remember her, didn’t remember the lunch they’d had yesterday, but he wanted to.
He read a little more, discovering he’d taken pictures. His phone. He’d left it on the charger in the kitchen last night and had yet to touch it this morning. He took everything back inside and tapped the screen to wake it up.
A beautiful face greeted him.
Ginny.
Wow. What a knockout. He stared at her until the screen started to go dark again. He touched it to keep it bright. She was beautiful. And a wolf. And apparently, he’d kissed her after lunch. A
pretty good kiss.
One he was bummed to have forgotten.
A new feeling settled over him unlike anything he’d felt before. It was longing mixed with a little sadness, but there was also an odd tint of jealousy and, most unexpectedly, some anger. As he studied her face, he tried to unpack some of that.
For one thing, he wanted to remember her and their time together, and he was angry he couldn’t. He was also jealous of the version of him that had been with her, held her, kissed her. More than anything, there was the understanding of her curse that kept them apart like this.
But another feeling surfaced, too. The desire not to let the curse win. He smiled and flipped through to the rest of the pictures he’d taken. In one of them, she was gazing at him with an expression that, to Easy, looked very much like love.
Could this woman love him? Even while knowing about his own curse?
He stared at that picture the longest, trying to see the truth. But maybe he was projecting that expression onto her. Maybe he was just wishing a woman this beautiful might fall for a man in his current cursed state.
Of course, if his journal was correct—and why wouldn’t it be—he was definitely falling for her. Which meant anything was possible.
He finished his coffee, repeating her name in his head like a mantra. He was going out to run, then he was going to shower and write two chapters.
Then, according to his journal, he was going next door to have dinner with Ginny. He smiled. If that wasn’t the best motivation for getting his chapters written, then great motivation didn’t exist.
Three and a half miles, one very hot shower, and a protein shake later, Easy was planted at his desk. He had a fresh mug of coffee, his laptop was humming, his Word doc was staring back at him, and Tomahawk Jones was about to get into worse trouble than he’d been in since the book had begun.
Life was good.
The words came fast, and he slipped into the zone with no problem. Page after page, the story seemed to fly from his fingertips onto the screen. Good words, too. The kind that with a little manipulation could be turned into great words.
Then Easy hit a snag. He needed an old enemy to cross paths with Tomahawk, but he’d already killed that guy off two chapters ago. He’d thought that had felt like it was happening too early on, but he’d ignored his inner editor. Sometimes that happened, where his brain would send him a warning that he wasn’t making the right decision for the story. And his brain was pretty much right every time, which meant not listening created more work.
The Forgettable Miss French (Shadowvale Book 3) Page 16