“I want waffles ten minutes ago. If you have somewhere to be at…” I glanced at my phone again. “Seven A.M. one of the boys can take me home.”
“I don’t but I … uh…”
“You know my mom. She made enough to feed you too.” And probably most of the French Foreign Legion, though once my brothers got done, the Foreign Legion would be eating scraps. “The least I can do after all your help is make sure you have breakfast.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Laughter spurted. “That’s exactly how you always said it.”
“Said what?”
“That you didn’t do anything. Every time someone—” I broke off.
“Every time someone accused me of whatever criminal act had been committed in the city limits,” Owen finished.
“Sorry.” He still hadn’t turned onto the road, and I waved to the right. “Whether you’re leaving or staying for breakfast doesn’t really affect your direction at this point. I’ll expire if I have to wait for you to take me to town so I can get my car and drive back to the farm. We’re over halfway there.”
“You will not expire,” he grumbled, but he turned right.
“Thanks. And thanks for staying with me at Emerson’s. It was nice to have more company than the ton in the middle of the night.”
“What’s the ton?”
“Old-time British word for the aristocracy. It’s what I call Emerson’s herd since he named them after the peers of the realm.”
Owen continued to look confused.
“Duchess, Lady, Countess.”
“That’s weird.”
“Weird is what you make it.” I was weird, but I’d done my best to make sure no one knew it but me. “You didn’t have to stay.”
“I had no place to be.”
“You could have slept in a bed.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But probably not.”
Before I could follow up on that statement he blurted, “People are treating me differently.”
“Okay.”
“Chief Deb didn’t accuse me of animal mutilation.”
“No, she accused your mother.”
“Actually she accused my mother’s imaginary friends.”
“She accused your mother’s coven.”
“My mother isn’t a witch, so she doesn’t have a coven any more than she has friends.”
Poor woman. She’d been a miserable mother but not on purpose. I’d always hoped that someone could help her, but apparently crazy like that was beyond help.
“Emerson shook my hand,” Owen continued. “The last time I saw him he shot me.”
“So?”
“So?” he echoed. “Once someone shoots at me, they don’t come back later and shake my hand.”
“What do they do?”
He didn’t answer, and I didn’t press. I probably didn’t want to know. The very idea of someone shooting at Owen made me twitchy.
“I doubt it’ll be the last time someone shakes your hand around here.”
“Why?” He seemed horrified.
“Heroes get their hands shaken.”
“Reggie’s the hero, not me. I just hold his leash.”
“I highly doubt that’s all you do. But you can always have them shake Reggie’s paw if you want to.” Owen cast me an exasperated glance, which I ignored. “Why do you downplay what you’ve accomplished?”
“You have no idea what I’ve accomplished.”
“You’ve been in the service for ten years, Owen. I doubt you had your thumb up your ass.”
He choked.
“If it bothers you to have your hand shaken, get over it. It’s going to happen a lot.”
“Not if I hide.”
“Good luck with that.” Once people knew he was in town, and why, they were going to come searching for him. And a guy of his size, with a dog of Reggie’s size, in a town of this size?
He wasn’t going to be able to hide for long.
* * *
“I didn’t join the corps to be a hero,” Owen said.
“Why did you?”
He cast her a quick glance. “You know why.”
“I know what you told me.” Her mouth tightened. “You had to make something of yourself. But to me, Owen, you were everything.”
She’d been everything to him too, which was why he’d had to go. This place had made him feel like nothing, like no one, and even her love couldn’t change that. But how could he tell her that she wasn’t enough?
“I didn’t mean to lie.” Which was a great, big lie. He hadn’t wanted to lie, but he had meant to.
“You lied?”
“I said I’d write.”
“You were going to leave and never write?” Her face crumpled, confused, in the soft, early morning light.
He’d also said he’d come back. But one lie at a time.
“I should have told you, but I…”
He had a sudden memory of her eyes—stricken. Her tears—salty. Her kiss—desperate. Her touch …
Everything.
How could he tell her it was over when all he’d wanted was for it not to be? Then he’d made love to her