Rowan said Ash and Keira became close after he disappeared, but she barely glanced his way. That has to sting.
He snaps out of it, his expression becoming businesslike as usual. Gesturing toward the window, he says, “I believe I should be asking you that.”
“I’m okay,” I lie.
“Try not to flood the town. I have to get back to work.”
“Do you want tea to go?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Come back later if you change your mind.”
He nods and then leaves, glancing toward the doorway that leads into the back before he goes.
Once I’m alone, Graham joins me at the counter. “You have the weirdest weather here.”
“It’s been a strange summer,” I hedge. “Would you like more tea?”
“I was actually wondering if you knew whether Meg was coming by this morning.”
“I don’t. But the boutique is open. You could visit her there.”
The writer looks out the windows that face Willow and Cedar. “I don’t want to bother her at work.” He gives the counter a soft, disappointed knock and returns to his table.
While I wait for Rowan and Keira to emerge from the apartment, I clean things.Allthe things.
What’s taking them so long?
I help several customers and then chat with a gentleman who visited India a few years ago about Assam and Nilgiri. I drink some of Ryder’s favorite apple tea, and I eat a scone.
Just when I think I’m going to go out of my mind, I hear footsteps on the stairs.
Rowan and Keira emerge, and neither one looks happy. Without so much as a glance in my direction, Keira strides through the tearoom. Her heels click on the hardwood as she walks, a confident sound. The bells on the door announce her departure, and I melt against the counter, so relieved she’s gone.
Rowan steps up next to me and rubs his hand over my back. “Are you all right?”
He sounds like a man who just came from battle.
“Areyou?”
“I imagine the bond made that uncomfortable.”
He’s avoiding.
I glance at the customers and make sure they’re all preoccupied, then I take his arm and pull him into the back hall. “How did it go?”
He tugs me into an unexpected hug and groans, “Badly.”
Instead of offering comfort, this time, it feels like he’s requesting it. I wrap my arms around him, squeezing him close, feeling at home for the first time in two days. This no-physical-affection nonsense has been rough.
“Did you tell her what happened?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“What did she say?”
Instead of answering, he holds me tighter, dropping his chin to the crook of my neck.
