“I think it’s probably nothing,” I said at last. “But I’ve got some research tools. We might as well put them to use.”
With a delighted squeal, Elodie raised her teacup. “To ghosts, gossip, and good intentions.”
The others echoed the toast with laughter, but I just sat there, smooth porcelain beneath my fingers, feeling the strange weight of the mystery settle into my chest.
I didn’t believe in ghosts.
Not really.
But I was starting to believe in unfinished stories—and the way they had a habit of pulling you back in, even when you swore you were done stitching them together.
EIGHT
AUSTIN
It wasMonday morning and I rolled over to check the clock for the third time. With Selene’s reluctance to accept help, we hadn’t really discussed a start time, so I had spent the last hour lying in bed and listening for sounds of chaos through the wall.
It only took a simple internet search to learn that Winnie’s school day started at eight thirty. If all went well, I could drop Winnie off at school and still be at Star Harbor Farms and on the jobsite before nine.
Piece of cake.
By seven, Winnie’s footsteps were thundering across the floorboards, and I hauled myself out of bed for a quick shower. Afterward, I walked out my front door and across the porch to theirs.
Before my knock even had time to land, the front door was flying open. “Good morning!” Winnie shouted with excitement.
Selene stood in the doorway, breathless and rearranging her robe like she hadn’t meant for the door to open at all. Her hair was wild, her cheeks flushed, and it took every shred of decency I had not to stare.
“Winnie, I told you not to—” She looked at me. “Sorry.”
I raised my palms. “We hadn’t talked about a start time. I made my best guess, but I can come back if you don’t need me right now.”
My mind flickered across the rogue thought that Selene might be naked beneath that robe, and my brain short-circuited for a full three seconds.
She flicked a hair from her face, drawing my attention back to the present. “No, it’s okay.” Selene let a soft smile grace her shapely lips. “You have impeccable timing, actually. Winnie was just getting dressed.” Selene grinned at her daughter and redirected her shoulders to point toward the stairs, to which the little girl grumbled, but complied.
She turned to me. “I was just finishing her lunchbox and wanted to go over a few ground rules with you.”
When Selene stepped aside, I entered her house and turned to her with my hands on my hips. “Rules?”
She shrugged and it took every part of me to keep my gaze respectable and not linger on the way the thin fabric of her robe sagged on one shoulder.
“Expectations,” she said. “I figured I would give you the same rundown as Amanda, and we can go from there.”
“You’re the boss,” I simply said, which earned me a playful eye roll.
Selene walked deeper into her home, and I obediently followed. “Around seven thirty or seven forty-five would be the most helpful,” she said. “That way you can help get her ready for school, and I can get myself ready if I have an eight o’clock meeting. School lets out at three-oh-five, and I would love to be able to work until about five.” Her hazel eyes sliced to mine. “If that works for you, of course.”
I smiled. “That works.”
“Some days my schedule is flexible, and if I can, I would like to walk her to school myself or pick her up. So ...” Selene’s teethcaptured her lower lip as she glanced up at me through heavy-lidded lashes. “We should exchange numbers so I can give you a heads-up if the schedule changes, or you can let me know if you have any issues and can’t help out.”
I smirked. “First namesandphone numbers. Wow.”
Her eyes flared. “We do not speak of that night ever. That’s the first rule.”
My nose scrunched. “These rules aren’t very fun.”
“I’m serious,” she said. “If there’s any chance in hell this is going to work, for my own sanity, I need us to both pretend that that night never existed.”
