The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

Trey gave Sonya’s hand another pat. “I’m going to let the dogs out for a bit.”

When he rose, Sonya shifted to look outside. Yes, morning was coming, and the night was dying away.

She had work of her own, and a life of her own. If the manor had given her a purpose beyond that, she’d do her best to fulfill it.

But morning was coming, and the day would follow.

She pushed away from the table to get started.

“I’ll make coffee.”

While the day bloomed, they sat and ate breakfast as they’d sat and shared whiskey and ghost stories.

After the dogs gobbled their own, Trey let them out again.

“I need you to drop me off,” Owen told him. “I’ve gotta clean up, get to work. Have you got a bag or box I can dump those shoes in?”

“I’ll take care of them,” Cleo said.

“By take care of, you mean—”

“Burn them.”

“Oh man.”

“Outside,” she added, “with a heavy dosing of salt.”

“Jesus.”

“That’s how it’s done,” Cleo countered. “It’s not like they were new. I could see that for myself.”

“They were really well broken in.”

She turned, patted his cheek, gave a couple days’ worth of stubble a rub. “I’m sure you have others. A successful businessman and craftsman such as yourself.”

“Is that a dig?”

She just smiled, sweetly. “You sacrificed your really well broken in shoes for my closest friend. No dig—this time. In fact, if I knew how to bake a pie, I’d bake you one.”

“You could learn. I like pie. Come on, Jones. Gotta move, Trey.”

“I’m with you. You’re okay, cutie.” Trey made it a statement as he took Sonya by the shoulders and kissed her.

His certainty served to boost her own.

“I’m okay. It’s my house. As long as that mirror’s in it, that’s mine, too.”

“Good. I owe you both dinner. I can pick you up at seven.”

“Come for dinner. You, too, Owen. I’m making pot roast.”

Trey blinked at her. “Really?”

“I did it once, I can do it again. I think.”

“I’m in.” Owen shoved his phone in his pocket.

Sonya stepped to him, rose up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks for the save.”