Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It could end just as tidily as any of those vacationers.
What about the possibility of telling her the truth? Holy shit, when she’d said she’d heard strange music and voices in the woods, had envisioned “Teeny-tinies” living out there—damn, that was precisely the kind of person he might be able to tell.
Except. Enjoying fireside faery tales was one thing. Honest-to-God belief in a tribe of goblins was another. He had tried to tell exactly one person in his life, not long after he inherited the job. It was the girl he was dating; he was freaking out and needed to talk to someone.
She’d looked at him with the iciest loathing he ever saw, and said, “You know, if you want me gone, you could be man enough to say so, instead of making up some completely idiotic story. I get the message.” End of relationship.
What could he do? Prove it by telling her to go out in the woods alone at night and trying to summon them? First of all, dangerous idea. Second of all, no one in their right mind would say yes to that. Yep, the goblins had their liaisons seriously screwed over. No doubt they laughed their asses off over it every night.
So the bachelor life it was. Congenial sex with no lasting relationships. Apologies about how he had a lot of “issues” and wasn’t ready for anything serious. It sucked.
Although admittedly it would suck more if he didn’t even get the congenial sex.
Grady was being unusually quiet over in the living room. Kit glanced at him, and found his cousin gazing out the window into the night with a vague frown.
“So you’re going back tomorrow?” Kit asked. “To cook for Skye and Livy?”
Grady seemed to awaken. He glanced back at Kit. “Yeah. Same time. If that’s okay.”
“No problem. I talked to Justin today, the guy who used to do the mechanic work while I lived out of town. He’s got a job at the hardware store now, but he can use extra hours, so he’ll come in sometimes if I need him.”
“Good, yeah. I’m sure he’s more use than me.”
“And I’m sure you’d rather hang with Skye.”
Grady acknowledged that with a cautious smile, then returned to gazing out at the dark trees.
While Grady hung with Skye tomorrow, and Justin covered the garage, Kit might be procuring some congenial sex from Livy Darwen. To judge from the way his body revved up at the thought, that wouldn’t suck much at all. At least, he had high hopes it might rock before it started to suck.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IT WAS WET THE NEXT MORNING, A JANUARY DRIZZLE A FEW DEGREES ABOVE FREEZING. THE RAIN WAS SO THIN AS TO be almost a mist, a gray gauze shrouding the water. As Grady drove across the bridge to the mainland, he could barely see anything on either side. Even the marina, just down the beach a mile, was now invisible. Two lonely round buoys in the middle of the inlet, one red and one white, were the limit of his vision, and looked like they were hovering on the edge of the world.
His insides cartwheeled in excitement as he carried his latest load of groceries to the Darwens’ door. Livy greeted him, let him in, then dashed off to get ready for work.
Grady entered the kitchen.
Skye was already showered and dressed this time. She sat at the table, sketching. Her pencil flew back and forth in her notebook.
“Hey.” Grady set the groceries on the counter.
She looked up, gave him a nod, and went back to sketching. She had a plaid flannel shirt on today, teal and black, not a baggy skater type but one of those cute tight stretchy ones, with the top two buttons undone. Her damp hair waved loose down her back. In a flash he imagined unfastening the rest of the buttons and sealing his mouth to her warm skin underneath.
He managed not to whimper. He resolutely put the groceries in their places, said goodbye to Livy when she left for work, and found the pots and pans he would need today.
He at least had to cook lunch as he was hired to do before making out with Skye on top of the kitchen table.
Skye could draw a goblin, but she couldn’t draw the goblins seizing her and stuffing fruit pastries into her mouth. She had tried, lots of times, and it ended up like her attempts to write the words: her pencil turned the shapes into something different. What was meant to be Skye on the page became a butterfly or a frog; the pastries became burgers, candy canes, coffee cups.
But Grady was starting to get her. Kind of. So maybe if she used symbolism, he’d understand. Warning him was the absolute least she could do for the poor guy. (The poor, adorable, sexy-smelling guy, her mind amended.)
“So today it’s soup,” Grady told her. “Scotch broth. Sounded good for weather like this.”
She nodded without looking up, finished shading in the cloak on the figure she had drawn, then examined the sketch in full. Not her most polished work, but it would do. She spun it around and pushed it toward Grady.
He scooted aside the measuring cups, and leaned on his knuckles to study the drawing. “Huh. Snow White kind of thing? Looks like an evil queen in the woods, holding a poisoned apple. A very creepy evil queen. Are those fangs?” He looked up at her, and his curious expression altered to concern.
Skye kept staring at him with as much intensity as she could sustain. This is important, Grady. Get it. Understand.
“When you look at me like that,” he said, “I feel like I’m close to the truth.”
She kept looking at him like that. Come on. Please.
“This means something?” He ran his eyes over the sketch again, and furrowed his brows. “You…got hurt? Cursed?”
Breathing fast, she reached across and gripped his wrist.
He snapped his gaze up to hers again. They stared at each other. “In the woods,” he said softly, as if to himself.
Their eye contact stretched out several seconds. She saw he was no closer to understanding, and why would he be? No one in their right mind would look at her situation, her sketches, and say, Ah, I get it, it’s a magic spell, thrown on you by goblins in the forest!
She let her grip on his wrist go limp, and dropped her gaze. It didn’t really matter if he understood right now anyway. He’d find out eventually. Even if he knew the truth, he wouldn’t have any idea how to save them, any more than she did. She just wished she could warn him. She’d feel less guilty.
Grady wrapped his warm fingers around hers. “Then I kissed you. That broke the spell for Snow White, right? I see some similarities here.”
Yes, but for Grady and Skye the kiss did the opposite. Dragged him down into the spell along with her. She blinked back tears.
“It’s all right. You keep sketching. I’ll puzzle you out one of these days.”
He spoke with such gentleness. How could she have done this to him?