“Would you mind closing up?” I ask. “We’re going to grab dinner.”
Lucy flicks her gaze between us, one brow arched. “Sounds good.”
“Do you want to join us?” Emery asks.
I slide a glance Emery’s way but her attention’s focused on Lucy, her expression earnest.
Lucy’s gaze darts between Emery and me. Part of me would love for them to get to know each other but the big, selfish bastard in me wants Emery all to myself tonight.
“Another time.” Lucy nods. “Thank you, though.” She aims a playful smirk at Emery. “Don’t let him talk you into anything—that man’s trouble.”
Emery tips her head back, her eyes meeting mine. A spark of humor lights up her face. “I’ve noticed.”
Laughing, Lucy gives us a mock salute and disappears into the back.
I touch Emery’s shoulder. “Thank you for offering.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to be alone with you,” Emery murmurs. Damn, why does that sound like the best idea ever? “But she’s your friend...”
Her voice trails off almost as if she’s asking a question. Is she making sure Lucy’s just a friend? Or wondering if she should start caring about the people in my life—the way someone does when they’re thinking about sticking around.
Do I want her to stick around? I shouldn’t wantmore. Not with her. Not with anyone. Not with the curse threading between us like a live wire. But every time I’m in her presence, I hate the thought of her leaving.
I take her hand. “We’ve been friends for a long time.”
A soft, playful smile flickers over her lips. “She must be a very patient woman.”
The Rider’s mark beneath my shirt thrums in warning, stopping me from laughing at her joke. I clear my throat and reach for my keys. “Let’s get going. It’s a small place. Gets crowded fast.”
She steps away from the door and sweeps her hand in front of her. “Lead the way.”
I push the door open, the bell giving a single metallic ring that sounds more like an omen than an alert.
Outside, the fog has thickened again, swallowing the glow from the streetlamps.
Emery steps past me, her arm brushing mine. For a split second, the green mark on her wrist slips free of her sleeve and shimmers under the weak light, making my pulse stutter.
She glances back, eyebrows raised like she didn’t feel a thing. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Right behind you.”
But as I lock the door and follow her down the sidewalk, I can’t shake the feeling that something else follows too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Emery
The fog accompaniesus to the restaurant with the tenacity of a nosy chaperone.
“It’s nice to be able to walk everywhere,” I say, glancing up at Declan.
He doesn’t respond right away. Maybe he’s never given a lot of thought to living in a small town. Or maybe he’s given ittoomuch thought. “It is, until you’re ready for a change of scenery.”
“Are you? You said you’ve lived here your whole life, right?”
“I have.” He stops in front of a narrow, undecorated door. Nothing except for a wooden sign hanging above the door with the wordsHollow Hearthcarved into it indicates a business exists.
Declan pulls the door open, and gestures for me to step inside. The scent of roasted garlic and warm baked bread envelops me. My stomach rumbles. Maybe my steady diet of sugar and more sugar since I arrived in Crowsbridge Hollow has been a mistake.
