“What does that mean?”
I shrugged. “Some people say it’s magic. I think it’s more likely the shitty cell service.”
She didn’t laugh at that, either. Just stared at me like she couldn’t decide whether I was trying to flirt or recruit her into a cult.
“Magic, huh?” she said finally. “What kind? Leylines and faerie circles, or the kind that ends with someone speaking in tongues and pulling a snake out of their pants?”
I barked a short laugh. “Around here? Little of both.”
That got me another sharp glance, but this one wasn’t suspicious—it was assessing.
I didn’t clarify. The speaking in tongues and pulling a snake out was a bit too on the nose.
We crested the hill, the trees giving way to the squat brick building that had been in my family since my dad first started tinkering with engines out of a shed. The Ward Family Auto sign looked more faded than usual in the twilight. The motion light buzzed overhead, casting long shadows over the gravel lot and catching on the creeping ivy that always threatened to swallow the south wall.
I put the truck in park and climbed out, catching sight of Milo having a goddamn meltdown at the front door. There was a little window at about eye level, and I kept seeing his fluffy ears as he tried to leap up to see us. The door was scratched to shit already; it was pointless trying to keep him contained.
“You okay with dogs?” I asked.
Noelle was getting out of the truck, heaving a deep sigh. “More than okay,” she said. “I actually tend to like them better than people.”
Milo must’ve heard her voice, because the second she closed the door behind her, he lost his damn mind. I didn’t even make it halfway to the entrance before the door popped open—he must’ve nudged the latch just right—and out he came, barreling across the gravel like he was being reunited with a long-lost soulmate.
“Jesus!” Noelle yelped, taking one step back as he launched himself at her like a golden-furred cannonball.
To her credit, she didn’t scream or flinch—just staggered a bit under his weight, braced one hand against the side mirror of the tow truck, and let him lick her face like it was part of a ritual.
Milo was whining, tail slapping against her thighs, all wriggling excitement and total lack of dignity.
“Good thing you’re good with dogs,” I chuckled. “Sorry about that.”
“You should really do better preparing people,” Noelle said—but she was laughing, the first time I’d even seen her crack a smile. “You asked if I was okay with dogs, not if I was strong enough to withstand a ninety-pound love bomb.”
“He’s all excitement and no manners,” I said, watching Milo bury his face against her hip like he was trying to crawl inside her jacket. “But he’s a great tour guide if you want to step inside. I think there’s still some coffee in the thermos, and folks say it’s the best in town.”
“Didn’t I see a coffee shop on Main Street?” she asked.
I grinned. “Yup.”
“Well…” she paused, going to cross her arms again only for Milo to nudge her hand as if personally offended that she wasn’t petting him. “I think I’d prefer to stay out here for now.”
I shrugged. “You can poke around if you want. Make sure I’m not hiding anything under the oil rags.”
“Don’t tempt me,” she muttered.
I popped her hood again, lifted the latch, and leaned in. The engine hissed faintly in the cooling air.
Yeah…this was not looking good.
But I wanted to make sure and give it a fighting chance before I called it.
“So,” I saidas I worked. “A podcast…?”
“Yeah, it’s like radio but?—”
“I know what a podcast is,” I laughed. “Internet’s not great out here, but we ain’t livin’ in 1950 like some country folk.”
She snorted at that. “Good to know.”
