I turned to see him standing in the middle of the living room with damp hair smelling clean and looking rakishly handsome in faded jeans, a navy t-shirt and boots.Like he’d stepped off the cover of Casual Cowboy.
“Ready to go?”he asked.
“Yes.”
But I was still distracted as I followed him back out the door.He locked up and then we were in his truck.
“You okay?”he asked.
He sensed my distraction.
“I keep thinking about something my dad said when I talked to him,” I told him.“He said Alice hid me because she was afraid my father would find me.”
I paused, glanced his way.His hands were tight on the steering wheel.
“My biological father,” I said.“What does that mean, Owen?”
“I think it means she was afraid of him for some reason,” he said.
“Do you think…” I paused, chewed on my lower lip.“What if everything happening at the Crossroads has something to do with him?”
He shook his head.“I don’t know.”
I leaned back against the seat as he drove.“I need to find out.”
“How?”
I huffed out a breath.“No idea.”
“We can figure it out together,” he said.
He sounded so sure, so confident that it made my heart squeeze.And yet that old armor snapped back into place.The one that was headstrong and determined to do things on my own without asking for help from anyone.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”Absolute determination edged his tone.
I glanced his way.He was still gripping the steering wheel, focused on the road ahead.I couldn’t stop myself.I reached for him, placed my hand on his thigh.His head snapped toward me, surprise then delight in his eyes.
“Then I want you to.”
He gave me that smile that always made me melt.
We arrived at Mrs.Rollins house.I got out, clutching the grimoire to my chest feeling a little nervous.It warmed against me.I didn’t know why.Owen looked calm and controlled.Like he was visiting an old friend to catch up, not asking our former English teacher to translate a magical book.
We climbed the steps together of the old red-brick house.He rang the bell.A few minutes later, the door opened and there was Mrs.Rollins on the other side of the door.
She looked exactly the same—well, maybe with a few more wrinkles—as she did our senior year.Tall with a wild mess of black curls around her oval face, big brown eyes behind thick glasses, straight pert nose, and thin lips.Her face broke into a brilliant megawatt smile the second she saw us.
“Well, bless my soul,” she said with a wide smile.“Get in here, you two.”
She waved us inside the small living room that smelled like antiques, old people, and lemon oil.The hardwood floors creaked as walked inside and she waved us to the worn sofa along the wall.We sat together.Owen’s leg brushed against mine.
It was hard not to notice and it felt deliberate.
“Thanks for seeing us, Mrs.Rollins,” Owen said.
“Of course.”Then her gaze swung to me.“Piper, I heard you were back in town.It’s good to see you.”
