The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

“It’s really nice out here. We tend to gravitate to the front, that view, but this is a nice place to just sit. What we need out there is some pretty bird feeders.”

“Yeah, the bears’ll love them.” Owen put a foot up on Jones, rubbed.

“Really?”

“And the cat would be thrilled with the all-she-can-eat buffet.”

“She wouldn’t—Of course she would. I’ll settle for the planters, some wind chimes, maybe some witch bottles.”

Sonya rushed back. “Cleo, he says we can come out to his shop right now.”

“Now.” Automatically, she patted her hair. “Sure, okay.”

“We’re fine here,” Trey said before she could ask. “Just fine right here.”

She walked over, kissed him. “We won’t be long.”

Owen waited until he heard the car start. “Quiet. You won’t be getting a lot of that from here out.”

“I won’t?”

“Not saying she’s a motormouth, because she’s not. Neither of them are. But your quiet, sitting-in-your-boxers-watching-the-ballgame nights are coming to an end.”

“Says who?”

“The one who knows you as well as I know me. You’re good and stuck on her, and I don’t blame you a bit. After all, we share the devastating Poole good looks.”

“Yeah, I often think of you when I look at her.”

“It’s in the genes, brother. Plus, she’s smart, got the creative thing going, and she doesn’t take any crap, even from a two-hundred-year-old witch with an attitude. Add the damsel, even one who can absolutely handle herself, in some distress angle.

“You’re sunk.”

“It’s not any of that, and it’s all of that. Something just clicked. It clicked the minute I saw her standing out in front of the manor, theminute she smiled at me. Son of a bitch. It’s not supposed to happen like that.”

“Why the hell not?” Owen stirred himself enough to shift in his chair. “You move slow, that’s how you’re made. Nothing wrong with that. Sometimes circumstances move faster. It’s easier to sail with the wind than into it.”

He settled back. “Anyway, I’m going to enjoy the quiet, then go in and put some mac and cheese together.”

He had it together and in the oven by the time they got back, flushed with pleasure and carrying a flat-topped copper stand with a honeycomb pattern.

“Isn’t it great! He’s going to make us another one. I’m taking it out to see how it looks. Oh, and we stopped and bought the paint!”

Considering the rousing success of the day, Cleo got out the wine. “You didn’t mention Rob Farmer’s about a hundred and fifty.”

“But spry,” Trey added.

“Very, and very talented. Also a bit of a hound dog. He flirted hard with me. Not as hard with Sonya, as he’s heard—he told us—she’s seeing the young Doyle boy.”

“What did you do?” Owen wondered.

“Flirted right back. He’s also very cute. And with the flirting and ordering a second table, he took fifty off. So a bargain.”

She opened the oven. “Well, well, that looks like a very high-class mac and cheese. How much time have we got?”

He moved next to her, looked in. “About ten more to cook. You want it to rest a couple after.”

“Perfect. I’m going to run out, take a look, then I’ll set the table.”