“It’s me,” she said, clearing her throat. “Good old Rowan Midwinter.”
“It is, but something’s different,” Gavin returned, narrowing his eyes.
Unexpected heat flushed up the back of Rowan’s neck as hescanned her toe to crown. She cleared her throat again. “Um, the years of aging I haven’t somehow avoided?”
“No, something more specific…” He looked a moment more, and her cheeks went pink under his scrutiny. Then he nodded, as if having solved a perplexing problem. “Your hair.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Had the change started early? She glanced at the clock. It was ten o’clock. She should have had a few more hours.
“My hair…?”
“It’s darker. I remember it being more of a, mmm…” He swirled his fingers around, looking for the word. “Dark blond? Light brown?”
Rowan released her breath. While at first she’d done her best to replicate her natural hair color, eventually she’d started dyeing it the dark auburn she’d always wished she’d gotten from her mother.
“Oh, yeah. Felt like adding a little extra…” She waved her hands in a flourish and struck a pose. “Drama in my life.”
His lips twitched in a suppressed smile. “I see. On your way to Elk Ridge for the holidays?”
She sighed. “Trying…You?”
“Same.”
“I should probably start figuring out how I’m going to do that.” She glanced at the line at the counter, despairing at its length.
Gavin arched a still-dark eyebrow—the gray hadn’t reached him there. “You haven’t started yet?”
“You know me, always cramming at the last minute…”
“Yes, howdidyou beat me for valedictorian?” he asked archly.
“Ah, dumb luck probably,” she said, knitting her fingers and remembering nights spent casting spells to bring clarity and focus to her otherwise tangled thoughts.
“It’s hard to remember why we cared so much. It’s not as if it mattered in the real world.”
Rowan raised an eyebrow, examining him as a familiar senseof irritation flared in her chest. His jeans were clearly tailored, and the charcoal sweater stretching over his broad shoulders was an expensive wool. Yes, for Gavin McCreery, one A minus had not changed his future’s trajectory, but his father had paid for his entire education, and so his future hadn’t required scholarships where every fraction of grade point average made a difference.
“Well, maybe it mattered a little,” she said, crossing her arms. “But I understand why the person who lost might not think so.”
He met her gaze with a quirk of the brow. “Touché.” At that moment, his phone chimed in his hands. “My rental’s ready.” He tilted his chin up. “There’s room in the car. As long as you travel light—it’s a two-seater.”
Her heart sprang right up into her throat. “Really? You’re not here with anyone?” She’d been expecting a leggy, fur-clad model type to strut up and claim ownership.
“No, flying solo. Literally, I suppose.” His head tilted down, and his eyes swept the room. “I guess I didn’t ask if it was just you.”
“Just me,” she said, but hesitated to accept the offer.
It would have been foolish to turn it down, but saying yes would mean hours alone in a car with Gavin as they wound their way up the Cascade Mountains in the depths of winter. Were there any snow- or ice-related delays, it might take even longer. Not only did she risk her hair changing color right before his eyes, but it also meant extended small talk with a member of the McCreery family.
An unwelcome thought, seeing as Gavin hadn’t simply been the primary roadblock in every academic accomplishment of her youth, his family had been the thorn in the side of her own for multiple generations.
His brows knit at her silence. “So…did you want a ride, then?”
“Um, thank you for the offer,” she said, scrambling. “But I can probably get the next flight…”
He was already shaking his head. “Everything’s booked for the holidays. My father called in a favor with the car service he uses.”
His father called in a favor.Of course. There was no problem that excess money couldn’t solve. This new piece of information crisped her tone right up.
