by Molly Ringle
“Sounds like you live in a small town, not a high-crime region or anything?”
“It is small and relatively safe, but…” Livy uncurled her hands and pressed them flat on her thighs. “We do live right up against the Sound. With a marina and docks and bridges. I mean, is there any chance she’d…”
“You’re concerned she might be suicidal?” Ever the professional, Morgan asked even that alarming question gently.
“I would never have suspected it of her before. Not ever. But lately she’s just so withdrawn. She doesn’t shower unless I remind her. She doesn’t eat enough. I think she has nothing but coffee for breakfast and lunch, and only has dinner because I tell her to. She hasn’t said or done anything that’s clearly…suicidal.” Livy had to swallow and collect her strength before saying the word. “But I wanted your opinion.”
Morgan nodded, rolling her fingertips across the cover of her notebook. “I haven’t seen any clear suicidal tendencies either. I would definitely alert you right away if I did. But you know her best and I trust your instincts, so if you’re worried to leave her alone—well, maybe you can ask for help? That way at least you can relax and tend to your own well-being a little more.” Morgan smiled in commiseration.
“Our mom visits sometimes, but not a lot. She lives down in Portland now. And Skye’s friend Jamie comes by once in a while, but she’s got classes and work. Or are you saying we should hire someone? Like a nurse?” Livy winced.
“I wouldn’t say she needs a nurse. Some friendly company, though. Someone who can make sure she’s all right, maybe remind her to eat.”
Livy nodded, though her mind raced desperately through their neighbors and dismissed each one as too busy, too elderly, or too annoying for Skye to want to put up with. There had to be someone.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
As Livy and Skye drove back into Bellwater, they had to stop in the middle of Shore Avenue to allow a tow truck to back a pickup into Kit’s auto shop. Kit stood near, chatting with a heavy-set guy, presumably the pickup’s owner.
Skye’s gaze drifted in boredom across the pavement, then snapped to attention upon spotting the young man who stood waving the driver into the space, pointing and shouting to direct him left and right.
Her stranger from the woods. Her mate.
Warmth flooded her. She felt short of breath.
Livy chuckled. “Well, at least we don’t have to get under that truck. We’re luckier than the Sylvain boys that way.”
“Sylvain.” Skye leaned forward in her seat for a better look.
The guy jogged out of the way while the driver slotted the truck into the garage.
“Yeah,” Livy said. “That’s Grady, Kit’s cousin. He’s in town a while. Apparently he’s a really good cook. He’s looking for a restaurant job in the city.”
Skye watched as he disappeared into the garage to unload the truck. A good cook as well as a good kisser. He sounded nice.
She wondered if the magic would have made a prison inmate sound “nice” to her, however. Because this surely was all due to the spell. Picked him as your mate? Fine, then here’s your mating instinct, it seemed to be saying.
She longed to see him again. Had he been thinking about her? He must have been, given their extraordinary meeting in the forest.
Kit spotted Livy waiting, and exchanged waves with her. Then the tow truck backed its nose out of the street and their path was clear. Livy drove past.
Skye twisted around to watch the garage as long as she could, until they turned the corner onto their street.
Livy cleared her throat. “Grady doesn’t like working at the garage, Kit says. He’d really rather cook. I was thinking it might be nice if I offered him a job, just temporary, like coming over to make us lunch or dinner some days. If he’s interested. I mean, if you don’t mind him being around while you’re there.”
Skye examined her. Livy’s expression was a little too carefully aloof; she must have guessed at Skye’s interest in Grady. Probably from how Skye had been staring.
Livy pulled into their driveway and turned off the engine. “So what do you think? I could ask him.”
Skye dragged her black leather purse off the car’s floor and onto her lap. She looked down at it, winding her fingers into the strap. His kiss. His kind face. His human warmth. The way he had made her feel good when nothing else had for a month.
“Ask him,” she said quietly.
CHAPTER TEN
SKYE DIDN’T NEED A BABYSITTER. LIVY STILL FELT CONVINCED OF THAT, THOUGH IT COULD BE SHE JUST WASN’T READY to face the idea of Skye needing anything resembling a nurse or a nanny. But some friendly company would help, as Morgan had said; especially someone who could cook. Grady’s culinary inventions sounded delicious and Livy wanted them in her house. Livy could easily rationalize it that way.
Also, Skye seemed to want him to come. That alone was notable, as she showed so little interest in anything lately. How could Livy not ask him?
Livy had taken the morning off to drive Skye to her appointment, and planned to spend the rest of the day working from home, emailing trail-restoration volunteers with the month’s plans. But she could put that off another half hour.
She heated up canned soup for lunch, made sure Skye ate some, then told her, “Since I’m here, I’ll walk down to the garage and see if Grady’s interested. Okay?”
Slouched on the sofa, browsing Netflix by remote, Skye nodded.
“Cool. Back soon.”
Livy walked down their sloping street and turned onto the shoulder of Shore Avenue. She told herself her thumping heart was nervousness at asking something kind of weird from someone she didn’t really know, and was certainly not excitement about talking to Kit again.
She strode up to the garage. Grady leaned his back against the mudsplattered pickup truck, eating what looked to be some kind of wrap.
As she approached, he swallowed a bite and greeted, “Hey.”
“Hey. Is Kit around?”
“Yup. Office.” He nodded toward the door.
“Thanks.” She paused. “I hear you cook. Is that something you made?”
He nodded and tilted the half-eaten wrap toward her to display it. “Tandoori steak, cucumber, and mint. With romaine.”
“Good God. That sounds fantastic.”
“Might as well eat something that tastes good, right?”
“You have the right attitude.” She sighed, thinking of her woeful can of soup. Best not to even tell him about that. “Talk to you soon.”
He waved in the middle of another bite.
She stepped into the office to find Kit behind the counter, frowning over a ledger book. An open Tupperware container sat beside it. The smell of warm Italian herbs mingled with the usual motor-oil scent.
He looked up at her and his scowl cleared to a surprised smile. “Heya. What’s up?”
“Hi. I have kind of a weird question for you. Well, an offer. And it isn’t really for you, it’s more for Grady, but I didn’t want to put him on the spot, so I thought I’d ask you.”
“I am officially intrigued.” Kit rested both hands on the counter’s edge, arms straight, and gazed at her.
She interlaced her fingers in front of her chest. “Well…his cooking sounds so amazing, and I suck at it so much myself, that I was thinking it’d be nice to hire him to come over and make us lunch or dinner some days. It’d be mainly hours I’m not around, but Skye would be there, and I think she could use the company, the way she’s felt lately. I know she could use the good food.”
Kit considered, lifting his eyebrows. “He may go for that. I gather he hates working on cars. Only because he tells me daily.”
“It’s just if you could spare him. Hours could be flexible, so it wouldn’t get in the way of his schedule here.”
“Eh, just between us, he’s not that much help in the shop.” Kit picked up a slice of pizza from the Tupperware and held it out on his palm. “This, now, is his superpower. He
re, try. You’ll see.”
“Oh, no, I don’t want to take your lunch.”
“I got plenty. Seriously, try it.”
Livy caved in, took the pizza slice, and bit into it. The flavors blossomed in her mouth, a perfect blend of garlic, basil, crust, and what tasted like the top-quality varieties of pepperoni and mozzarella. “Mmm,” she said around the bite. “Okay, yeah. This. We want this.”
Kit folded his arms, watching her with satisfaction. “He took pity on me and made me pizza, but of course it’s still fancy pizza. Pesto instead of marinara, some kind of leaves on it along with the pepperoni.”
Livy tasted the scrap of wilted salad green she had just encountered. “Arugula maybe?”
“Something like that.”
“It’s awesome. Wow.” She ate another bite.
“Then sure, I’ll ask him. Would there be any job duties besides cooking?”
“Not really. I mean…I admit it’s also that I’d feel better knowing someone was there with her, at least sometimes.”
“And this is okay with her? Him being in her space?”
Livy finished the last bite of pizza, and nodded. “She said to ask him. I have the feeling she thinks he’s cute.”
Kit grinned. “We’re playing with fire, then.”
“Not necessarily. They could just be friends. Anyway, they’re adults. It’s their deal.”
“Write your number.” Kit flipped over a business card and slid it across to her. “I’ll let you know what he says.”
Cooking at home for two women, one of whom was depressed and needed cheering up with good food—well, it wasn’t Grady’s dream job, but by now he had to admit in defeat that it was better than what he was currently doing. Sure, he told Kit, he’d be happy to go check it out.
Kit texted Livy to tell her they’d come over after the garage closed. Kit had given Grady a ride to work, so they drove back to the island first, where Grady picked up a sample of his cooking for this Skye woman to taste.
“I’ll take you there, show you where it is,” Kit said.
“I can probably find it myself. Town’s not that big.”
“Still, I’ll come say hi.” Kit sounded too casual, flicking his truck keys between his fingers.
Ah, right, because Livy was the woman whose hand Kit had been kissing the other day. Grady smirked and let him come along.
They parked the truck at the corner of Livy and Skye’s dead-end street, and walked up toward the address she’d given.
It was a light blue single-story house at the top of the cul-de-sac, with a sagging wire fence around a garden of robust-looking bushes. The forest loomed behind it, and Grady’s thoughts flew to his mystery woman again. But only for a melancholy few seconds, because then Livy came out and strode down the front path.
“Hey, Grady.” She beamed. “Thanks for coming.”
“No problem.” He held up the paper bag. “I brought scones.”
“Ooh, that sounds perfect. Wait—no fruit in them?”
He shook his head, puzzled. “They’re cheddar.”
“Good. Skye’s got a weird aversion to fruit lately. I don’t know.” She glanced back at the house, then lowered her voice as she faced the two men again. “She also doesn’t talk a lot these days. So if she’s quiet, it’s not that she doesn’t like you. But she’ll listen, and might interact, and… anyway, you can come in and see if this is something you want to do.”
Grady’s feet grew cold at those warnings. He was a cook, not a mental health specialist. But he could make excuses and get out of it later if he wanted. For now he’d at least go through with the introductions. “Sure, let’s go say hi,” he said.
Livy smiled in gratitude and led them up the path. Grady exchanged a guarded, uncertain glance with Kit.
They stepped into the house, which smelled faintly of coffee and perfume, and followed Livy into the kitchen.
“Hey, Skye,” she said. “This is Grady.”
Grady’s curious glance around the kitchen stopped dead as his gaze landed on the young woman sitting at the table, her dark hair in a bun with bits coming loose, her haunted eyes drinking him in.
Her.
He pulled in a rapid breath through his nose, and felt his eyes widen, then mastered his reaction so it didn’t show beyond that, even as his heart began hammering like a piston.
He’d considered this younger sister might be his mystery woman, but he hadn’t realistically dared hope it. Now here she was, and he was being offered the chance to spend a few hours a day with her and get paid for it—okay, he still needed a lot of explanation about that forest kiss, but at the moment, he only thought ecstatically to the Powers That Be, Oh thank you thank you thank you.
He gave Skye his best effort at a friendly smile. “How’s it going?” He tilted the open paper bag toward her. “Cheddar mini-scone?”
Skye looked gravely at the bag, nodded, and took one of the scones.
“They’re good,” Kit remarked. “I ate six for breakfast.”
“Six?” Livy laughed.
“They’re small.”
Skye began nibbling the scone. Her gaze kept returning to Grady, and he found it hard to tear his away from her too. As Livy talked to him about the stove, the pantry, and the sorts of things they usually ate, he did his best to pay attention, nodding and studying utensils, feeling like a dork.
“I don’t know, if you want to give it a try for a day or two…” Livy concluded after a few minutes.
Grady nodded. “That’d be great.” He glanced at Kit, who lounged against the door frame. “Better than getting motor oil in my hair, that’s for sure.”
Kit smirked.
Skye still watched Grady, not smiling or speaking. But she had eaten the whole mini-scone, at least.
Grady agreed to start tomorrow morning, ten o’clock.
They walked back out to the front yard, and this time Skye got up and wandered along with them.
“Oh, man.” Kit squinted across the fence. “Duncan’s old Caddy. I haven’t seen that running in, what, ten years?” He veered across the garden to get a closer look at the hunk of automotive junk in the neighboring driveway.
“No one has.” Livy followed him. “It’s been sitting there forever. Look, it’s got vines growing through it.”
The two of them walked to the fence, talking cars, but Grady stopped paying attention. He looked down at Skye, who hovered in silence at his elbow.
“Good to see you again,” he said quietly.
“Good to see you,” she murmured back.
“What happened in the woods? What was that? Why’d you kiss me, then why’d you run off? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
She hugged herself and looked at her shoes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“No—I don’t—look, it’s okay, I liked it. Don’t be sorry. But what was it? And why’d you say ‘Help me’? Help you with what?”
She cast a miserable look over the roof, toward the forest.
“With…feeling like this?” he guessed, softening his voice. “They said you were feeling down lately. Is that what you meant?”
She looked at the ground again, and shrugged one shoulder.
He shot a glance at Kit and Livy to make sure they were still chatting. “Then I hope it did help,” he said.
She didn’t answer or look at him, so he added, “Is it actually okay with you, my taking this job?”
She met his eyes again, and nodded.
“You sure? You want me here?”
“Want you,” she whispered.
The way she said it, gazing at him, choosing those words to echo— an erotic thrill shivered through him. Which was all messed up in light of, well, everything. His body couldn’t forget how that kiss had felt.
“Then I’ll come by tomorrow,” he said. “We can get acquainted. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to help you.” He smiled, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation.
She only looked unhappy again, and gl
anced away.
“Ready, man?” Kit walked back over with Livy.
Grady nodded. “See you tomorrow, then,” he said to both women, but his gaze lingered three times as long on Skye.
“Looks like you got a chance to talk to him a little?” Livy said. She and Skye stood on the small concrete front porch, watching Kit and Grady stroll back to the truck.
Skye shivered. The cold outdoor air seemed to invade her body now that he’d left. “A little.”
“Nice enough guy. I hope he’ll like it, a job doing something he enjoys, even if it’s just temporary.”
Skye shrugged, distracted. She felt the pull of the forest behind her, hated it and longed for it.
“I think he likes you.” Livy smiled as she watched the truck drive away. “Could hardly take his eyes off you.”
Skye’s eyes filled with tears, her misery uncontainable.
Livy glanced at her, and the smile quickly changed to a look of concern. “Hey, what, what’s wrong?”
Skye flopped her hand up and down herself, and ended with a hopeless flourish that pointed back toward the woods. “This.”
Livy wrapped an arm around her, and guided her back into the warm house. “I know. It sucks, not being able to talk to people as easily as you used to. But you will again. I know it. You’re a strong woman, babe.”
In the front hall, Skye sniffled and nodded in acceptance.
Livy patted Skye’s shoulder. “How about some chai?”
Skye nodded again. While Livy slipped into the kitchen, Skye wandered across to the back pantry, rested her forehead against the window in the door, and gazed out at the dark treetops.
Grady did seem nice, genuinely so, which tortured her even more. He will follow you. She had thrown out a magical hook and ensnared him without thinking of the consequences. She ought to send him away, keep him at a distance, for his own good. But he probably wouldn’t go, thanks to the spell that had infected him; and in any case, the magic was working on her too. Just as she longed for the forest out of all proportion, she now longed for him as well, her chosen mate.