“Bruce doesn’t like leashes.”
“If he takes off after a squirrel or a deer you might never find him.”
“Bruce won’t get lost unless he wants to.”
“I don’t see a collar.”
“Bruce only wears collars for formal occasions.”
“Whatever. It’s not my problem if he gets picked up by animal control. There’s a storm coming in. We’re going to have to hurry if you want to get the reading done before it hits.”
The atmosphere was charged with the vibe of the oncoming gale but there was another kind of energy around Sophy. She was not what he had expected. She was also not his type. Then again, he had never met anyone like her, so how could he be sure of that?
For a beat he felt disoriented.
“You are Sophy Harper, right?” he asked, needing confirmation that he hadn’t dropped into an unscheduled dream.
“Yep, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Mr. Wells.” She smiled a smile that was too bright and too polished. “You are Luke Wells, right?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Your grandmother called me this afternoon to tell me you were on the way.”
“You’re a reader and a housekeeper?”
“Those are side gigs. Mostly I’m a librarian. You were obviously expecting someone more exciting. I get that a lot. Don’t worry, I’m good at what I do. Come on in and have some coffee while I change into my work clothes.”
Her working gear had consisted of a puffy jacket that had enveloped her from neck to ankle. She wore it over the sweats. With the cat-eye glasses attached to a sparkly little chain around her neck, it was as if she was trying very hard to avoid looking sexy. It wasn’t working.
He had been intrigued by her outfit because it was sartorial overkill. Sure, it was chilly in the mountains at night, but it was late spring, not midwinter. Judging by her clothes you’d have thought there were five feet of snow outside.
Now he understood why she had bundled up. She had dressed for the aftermath she knew would follow the reading. There was always a dark side to every strong talent.
He knew he had to take some of the blame for the tension that shivered in the atmosphere in the front of the SUV. But he refused to take all of it. The Harpers and the Wellses had a murky history that stretched back four generations. He felt free to hold ancestors on both sides responsible.
When he needed a crime scene reader he usually went with one of the in-house talents from Wells, Inc. But this was not just another security job. This was a family matter. You didn’t use employees when it came to an investigation that touched on the past. You went with a talent who could be trusted to keep her mouth shut—a Harper.
Sophy folded her arms. “How did you do it?”
He took a deep breath, fortifying himself. She finally wanted to talk about what had happened when their auras had clashed and then resonated. This was going to be tricky. It wasn’t the dreaded morning-after conversation, but it was the closest thing to it. It was theWe could be really, really great in bed togetherconversation.
But in this case that probably would be followed by theWe hardly know each otherdiscussion, and then Sophy would point outthat she was a Harper and he was a Wells. He would be forced to defend his family’s legacy and she would be obliged to defend her family and that wouldn’t go well.
“Do what?” he asked, stalling for time as he turned onto Lake Road.
“How did you talk to me while I was reading the scene without shattering the trance?”
He had not seen that coming. But then, it was no secret that he wasn’t much of a psychic. So much for the post-resonance-experience conversation. He should probably be relieved.
“Is that what’s been bothering you since we left the cabin?” he asked. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“A lot of things have been bothering me tonight.” She did not take her attention off the narrow strip of pavement that bordered the lake. “That question just happens to be at the top of my list right now.”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just knew that it was possible to talk to you without breaking your trance.”
“I’m not buying that. What kind of talent are you, Luke Wells?”
“I have some serious night vision, but that’s it as far as psychic talents go. I’m sure you know they call me No-Talent Wells.”
