“How?”
“My father was obsessed with Kimmie Jayne from the first season. Haven’t you watched the show? I don’t know how I missed it when we first walked in; they could be sisters.”
I nodded slowly as my mind whirred back to the old reruns.
“It wasn’t an act, Aspen. He really was in love with her. He once told me that letting her go to assume the Winter Court throne was the hardest thing he’d ever done.”
Fay rushed toward us with a glass of water and Fallon stopped talking, pretending to still choke. She handed it to Fallon, and he took a long pull.
He swallowed hard, then finally lifted his eyes to hers. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“Anytime, son. I can’t have you keeling over in my diner.” She gave him a sweet smile. “I’ll get working on your order and be out to check on you in a few.”
As soon as she was gone, I leaned in closer to Fallon. “Okay, so what does all that Kimmie Jayne stuff have to do with Fay?”
“Don’t you see? The timeline fits. I was born about a year after the show aired. My father must have met this woman somehow. She reminded him of Kimmie Jayne, the only woman he’d ever loved and could never have. They slept together and bam…”
Shit. That was some crazy ass story. “Okay, assuming that’s true, we have to prove it somehow.”
2
A FIGHT AND FOREPLAY
The rest of the meal had been a bust. We hadn’t been able to pry any info out of Fay to prove she was Fallon’s long-lost mother. I’d even offered to snag a few strands of her hair for a DNA test, but he didn’t want to freak her out. Plus, we figured it was only a matter of time before the producers showed up to explain themselves.
Fay sashayed back to the table and handed Fallon his credit card then eyed the name on the silver card. “Wait a second, you’re Fallon Frost?”
I eyed the Fae because in all this time I’d never asked his last name. I almost laughed out loud. Not obvious at all.
“Yes, why?” A streak of hope flashed across Fallon’s lilac irises, and I immediately felt like a huge a-hole.
“You’re staying at my inn tonight. It’s just upstairs.” She pointed at the wooden beams stretching over our heads, and my gaze instinctively followed her finger. “The entrance is around back. I can bring you two up when you’re ready. A bunch of suitcases arrived like an hour before you came in.”
Oh yeah, this was so planned. The producers had arranged this entire night.
“Okay, great,” Fallon muttered.
“I’ll grab the keys and be right back.”
The moment she headed toward the kitchen, he spun at me. “What the hell is Shepherd thinking?” he rasped out.
“Relax. Just because he’s outing your bio mom on live TV doesn’t mean he’ll out your dad too.”
He dragged his hands through his silver hair, setting it up in jagged spikes. “Elrian’s going to murder me,” he whisper-hissed.
“He’ll have to get in line.”
Fallon shot me a narrowed glare.
“What, too soon?” I threw him a playful wink. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I make inappropriate jokes when I’m nervous. But seriously, I don’t think Shep would do anything to purposely hurt you. He has to know how serious the attempts on your life have been.”
He cast a glance in the direction from which Fay had disappeared. “Maybe.”
As if she’d felt him searching for her, a second later, she pushed her way through the swinging kitchen door with a keychain dangling on her finger. His gaze remained glued to hers until she finally reached our table.
“You two lovebirds ready?” Her bright blue eyes twinkled, reflecting the sweet smile splitting her lips.
Fallon jumped up and practically shoved me out of the booth. Geez. She was way too nice to be his mom.
As we followed her through the kitchen and out the back entrance of the diner, my bachelor’s gaze never deviated from Fay’s. She had to have noticed because she kept clearing her throat and babbling nervously. The poor woman probably thought my boyfriend was hitting on her right in front of me.
I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. Gods, what was wrong with me sometimes?
“So how long have you owned this place, Fay?” Fallon asked.
“Oh goddess, it seems like forever. Sometimes I don’t even remember my life before having the diner and the inn.”
Fallon slanted a look in my direction. Maybe she couldn’t remember anything because she’d been compelled!
“Well, the food was great,” I offered.
“Thanks, honey. I’ll let my chef know. Bruno’s been with me since we opened.”
“Is he your husband?” Fallon asked.
Oh gods, now he definitely sounded like he was fishing.
“No, sir. Never been married, never wanted to be.” She unlocked the back door and ushered us up a narrow staircase.
“There was never anyone special in your life? A Fae maybe?” I blurted.
Fallon slid me a scathing glare, but it was too late. I was glad I asked. We weren’t getting anywhere with this beating around the bush crap.
“Fae?” She laughed. “You can tell you’re definitely not from these parts. Us magical folk and the Fae don’t exactly get along.”
Hmm… interesting. Kind of like wolves and vampires.
“No, there’s never been anyone special.” Her lips twisted into a pout, and something unreadable flashed across those sparkling irises. We reached the top floor, and she stopped in front of a worn wooden door painted a flashy bright green. “Well, here we are. I hope you kids like it.”
The old hinges creaked as it swung open, revealing a quaint space covered in dark woods and colorful floral patterns. The scent of magic lingered in the air, along with a healthy dose of patchouli and sage. “The bedroom is right down the hall, and there’s a bathroom attached. There are fresh linens, and you can come down to the diner for breakfast in the morning.” She began to turn to the door then doubled back. “Just holler if there’s anything else you need. I live in the apartment just below here.”
How convenient.
“See you two tomorrow.” She waggled her fingers and sauntered out.
Fallon was so entranced by her retreating figure I had to snap my fingers an inch from his nose to get his attention long after she’d left. “It’s her, I just know it,” he muttered.
“We’re pretty certain of the same.” A familiar voice ricocheted across the room, and I nearly leapt out of my skin.
A puff of lavender smoke blotted out the colorful floral couch, and two figures coalesced from the fog.
“What the hell, guys?” I screeched. “Are you trying to give us a heart attack, Shep? Did you forget someone’s trying to murder Fallon?”
Dax lowered his head and mumbled an apology as Shep sank into the couch. “Which is exactly why we must be so secretive,” responded the producer.
“So you’re not certain Fay is my mother?” Fallon asked.
“Not exactly.” Shep frowned and crossed his legs, salt-and-pepper brows furrowing. “Our source is a reliable one—and before you ask, no, I will not tell you who it is. However, the blood tests were inconclusive, which isn’t surprising. Elrian has gone to great lengths to keep you both hidden.”