It took us just on half an hour to reach Argyle. His house lay at the far end of a six-unit complex built close to the sandy shoreline of the vast Argyle Lake. It was a two-story, cedar-clad building with a wall of glass that overlooked the water. Most of the big trees that surrounded it were deciduous, which meant it was protected from the worst of the summer heat but the winter light could shine through.
Aiden stopped in front, then climbed out and ran over to the door to open it. Then he came back for me, picking me up and carrying me inside despite my protests.
The house’s layout was pretty basic—this level was a long room divided by the open wooden staircase. In the front half there was an old-fashioned fireplace, around which sat a C-shaped, hugely comfortable leather sofa. The TV—a monster of a thing—was tucked into the corner between the fireplace and the glass wall. The kitchen–diner lay on the other side of the staircase, and there were now a lot more kitchen utensils and cooking paraphernalia in the drawers and on the benches than there had been before I’d moved in. It was the only real alteration I’d made to the place. However much Aiden might deny it, we both knew I was only a temporary rather than a permanent resident in his home and, as such, I didn’t feel it was right to redecorate. But long term or short, there was no way known I was going to put up with the meager scraps he laughingly called his cooking and baking ware.
The fire had gone out over the course of the day, but warmth still lingered in the big room. He walked across to the stairs and carried me up. There were two bedrooms up here, each with their own en suite. Ours was the one with the long view over the water and a balcony on which to sit. Or, on the odd occasion, do something far more exciting—not that there’d be much of that going on now that winter was almost upon us.
“Shower or bed?” he said, pausing in the middle of the room.
“I believe a shower might be in order.”
“I believe you’re right.”
I lightly slapped the muscular arm holding me so tenderly. “I’m not the only one who smells right now, Ranger.”
“Yes, but mine is good honest sweat. Yours is mingled with blood and pain.”
“I didn’t know pain had a smell.”
“Then now you do.” He placed me down carefully, but kept hold of my arm until I was balanced. My feet immediately started their protests again, and though I managed to curtail the instinctive gasp of pain, he obviously sensed it. “Will you be all right? Or do you want some help to undress and shower?”
“Go do what you have to do.” I leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. “I’ll be fine.”
“You keep making that statement. One of these days, I might actually believe you.” He cupped my cheek, his smile sweet and eyes full of gentle amusement. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be home, so don’t wait up for me.”
“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”
Concern flickered through his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He simply brushed a gentle kiss across my lips, then turned and left. I waited until his truck had reversed out and sped away, then slowly stripped off. In the bathroom’s bright light, my feet looked even worse than they felt. Aside from the multiple minor cuts and bruises, there was a deep puncture wound in my right heel and a colorful bruise forming around the arch of my left foot. Unless Katie’s werewolf capacity to fast heal made an unexpected overnight appearance, there was no way I’d be able to waitress tomorrow. I dragged out my phone and made a call to Celia—who was the niece of our regular waitress, Penny, and who now worked a permanent three days a week for us—to ask if she could fill in for me tomorrow.
With that done, I turned on the water and stepped in, letting the steaming heat wash away at least some of the aches and pain. It didn’t do a lot for my feet, however. I rubbed antiseptic all over them, pulled on some socks to stop said antiseptic getting all over the sheets, then climbed into bed. I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Aiden wasn’t beside me when I woke the next morning, though the dent in the pillow suggested he’d at least made it home last night. I stretched to ease the muscle kinks, winced as my feet protested the movement, and then grabbed my phone to check the time. It was barely six, which surprised me. Given the toll using the wild magic generally took on my strength, I’d been expecting to sleep much later.
I tentatively reached out for Belle, but was stopped by a soft barrier of magic. It meant she was in her room and still asleep. I’d placed a ton of spells around both bedrooms when we’d first moved in—not so much to keep evil out, but to give her some mental space from the constant barrage of my thoughts. She might be my familiar, but she didn’t need to be on call twenty-four seven. That would likely drive even the strongest person insane.
Of course, I could push past the barrier if I absolutely had to, but it wasn’t necessary in this particular case. I might not be able to waitress but I could still work, even if I did so propped up on a stool in either the kitchen or behind the serving counter.
I flicked off the blankets, sat up, and then carefully pulled off my socks to inspect my feet. Surprisingly, many of the smaller cuts had healed, but the puncture wound remained sore and ugly-looking, and the big bruise around the arch of my left foot was now even more colorful. I put my socks back on, then carefully rose. Putting any sort of weight on my feet hurt, but not as badly as I’d feared. I hobbled over to the wardrobe, got dressed, and then carefully negotiated the stairs.
Aiden wasn’t in the kitchen, and his truck wasn’t in its usual position out front. No real surprise there. While he technically wasn’t rostered on until later in the day, he’d always considered it his duty to be present during any major investigation. He had left me a note, however: Early meeting with Ciara. Will see you tonight. Dinner is on me.
Such a romantic, I thought with a wry smile.
I shoved a couple of crumpets into the toaster then made a coffee to go. Once I’d smeared the crumpets with Vegemite and then melted cheese over the top of them—the best way to eat crumpets, in my opinion—I slung my backpack over my shoulder, then grabbed my keys, coat, and breakfast, and headed out.
A few days ago, I’d bought a little yellow-and-black Suzuki Swift to tootle back and forth from the café to Aiden’s. While the council had replaced the SUV we’d destroyed, it cost an arm and a leg to run, so we used it mainly for business purposes. Me having the Suzi also meant Belle could use the SUV should she need it.
Aiden wasn’t entirely impressed with the car—more because of the bright color, I suspected—but jumping into it always made me smile. And there were definitely some days in this damn reservation when that sort of boost was needed.
I reversed out and, once on the main highway, turned the music up loud. It took just over half an hour to reach Castle Rock, and Belle was awake and cheerily singing in the kitchen by the time I hobbled in.
“Sounds like a good time was had last night.” I shoved my bag under the counter and then headed into the kitchen.
“The movie was average, but we headed over to that new pub in—” She stopped abruptly. “What the hell did you do? Why are you limping?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I bruised my left foot and cut my right.”