And as I walked back to the village alone, I forced my thoughts to focus back on what the Beithir had said.
How was it that Zara had also experienced a similar reading from the Kelpies about this? What was I missing?
“There’s something about a promise being broken. A long time ago. And something that needs to be mended or restored. I can’t quite grasp it.”
Somewhere beneath the still surface of Loch Mirren, something ancient was waiting for me to figure it out.
Would that stop the Kelpies? Was there a bigger picture to this curse that I was missing that wasn’t just about loving and losing people?
But how? With Zara?
Daughter of lies.
It was a puzzle that I didn’t know how to solve.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Graham’s name on the screen.
Hope you’re doingokay today. Last night was really nice. Let me know if you want company later.
My thumb hoveredover the keyboard. I should say no. After what the Beithir had shown me, after Zara’s words, after everything, I should put as much distance between us as possible.
But I could still feel his lips on my forehead. Still hear his voice sayingI’m not giving up on this.
I put the phone back in my pocket without replying.
I had research to do. Answers to find. A curse to understand before it destroyedeverything I loved.
Starting with the man I’d spent years trying not to love at all.
CHAPTER NINE
GRAHAM
The soup was a calculated move.
Not just any soup, mind you. This was Lia’s potato leek—the good stuff, with secret herbs, the recipe she made when the weather turned properly cold. She’d handed it over with a knowing look that I’d pretended not to notice.
“If this was for you, you’d get your own chef to make it. I’m guessing it’s for Agnes?” she’d asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Don’t worry about it.” I knew how the gossip in Loren Brae worked. Hell, I ran a pub, didn’t I? The Tipsy Thistle was ground zero for gossip.
“Uh-huh.” Lia smiled. “Tell yourfriendI said hello.”
Now I stood outside Bonnie Books with the soup in one hand andTreasure Islandin the other, feeling like ateenager trying to work up the nerve to talk to his crush. Which was ridiculous. I was anadult. I owned a business. I’d read an entire book in three days just to have something to talk to her about.
That last bit made me a touch embarrassed, but at this point, I didn’t care. I sensed I was close to figuring out what Agnes was keeping from me. She’d finally gone on a date with me, so her resolve must be wavering, so if I could just get her to crack, I might be able to get to the root of the problem.
And actually do something to fix it.
Through the glass, I could see Agnes on a stepladder, stretching to reach something on the top shelf. Her jumper rode up just enough to show a sliver of pale skin above her jeans, and I stood there like an absolute creep, watching the line of her back, the way her curls tumbled loosely about her head.
Get a grip, Kincaid.
I pushed through the door, the bell announcing my arrival, and Agnes startled so hard she nearly toppled off the ladder.
“Bloody hell, Graham!” She clutched the shelf for balance, glaring down at me. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“If I wanted to kill you, I’d use something more creative than a door chime.” I shook my head at her. “Also, aren’t you used to those ringing by now?”
