Chapter Thirty-Three
Lilith
“Was it your mama or your daddy?” Lilith asked. Because a complicated childhood was always the fault of one or the other,
wasn’t it?
“My father.” Asher’s fingertips lingered on his wineglass. “He spent his whole life trying to reclaim the greatness our family
once had, never accepting that his father squandered the last of the inheritance. All Father had left was that house. It was
everything to him. And for a while it was everything to m—”
He cut off abruptly and shook his head, jaw clenching.
Had he meant to say it was everything to his mother?
“How did your mama cope?” Lilith nudged.
“She didn’t.” He scoffed, the sound harsh with pain. “She was lonely and soothed herself with the bottle until it wasn’t company
enough, then she left.”
“I imagine you were lonely too,” Lilith said softly. “Even before she left.”
Asher’s gaze slid away from hers.
Lilith stretched a hand toward him without thinking. Not until her fingers brushed his forearm. He lifted his eyes to hers,
securing the connection between them in a way that made Lilith’s heartbeat stutter.
“How old were you?” she asked gently.
“Ten.” Asher took a drink and continued, “My father took to the bottle after she left. One night, he went out and never came
home. Drowned in the neighbor’s pond.”
Lilith hurt for the little boy Asher had been, orphaned and entirely alone.
“Oh, Asher…”
“Aunt Jacqueline dropped everything to come here and care for me.” Asher glanced at the kitchen exit where Aunt Jacqueline
had stood earlier, his gaze earnest. “I can’t imagine my life without her.”
Lilith wrapped her hand around his forearm and squeezed, letting it stand in for the soul-deep hug she longed to give him.
“I’m so sorry.”
“That’s life sometimes.” He lifted his wine in a mock toast. “I like to think it made me better rather than bitter.”
“I believe it did.” She patted his arm and released him to pick up her wineglass. “To being better.” They clinked glasses
and drank together, smiles teasing their lips.
“Is that why you hate it?” she asked abruptly.
He blinked at her and set down his glass.
“The manor,” she specified. “Is that why you never want to talk about it…because of your daddy?”
Asher was silent for a long moment, his expression impassive. Finally, he settled back in his chair and released a long breath.
“Well.” He reached for his wine again. “That is astute.”
The openness of his expression shuttered.
She’d done that with her abrupt questioning.
And while she could kick herself, she still had so many questions. About the manor, about the secret room, about the grimoire and whether he knew of its existence.
And she needed answers like a drowning woman needed a life raft.
“Legacies…” Asher spoke with apparent care. “Are not always wanted.”
That was absolutely something Lilith could understand.
Her phone buzzed next to her and Essie’s name flashed with a text. “Sorry,” Lilith apologized, flipping her phone over.
Asher swallowed the last of his wine. “Honestly, it’s getting late, and Toby will remind me we have an early day tomorrow
morning.” Toby gave a broad underbite smile and wagged his nub of a tail.
Asher put their glasses in the dishwasher and Lilith snuck a glance at her phone.
Essie: How’s Mr. Darcy? ??
Lilith replied with a blush face, to which Essie immediately replied with a heart eyes emoji.
When you knew someone well enough, you could have an entire conversation in emojis.
Lilith scooped Dragon from her lap and stood, tucking the cell phone into her back pocket. “Thank you again for dinner—and
for the chat.”
Asher walked with her toward the rear of the house where the guest rooms were, clicking off the lights as they went. “My pleasure.
I enjoyed getting to know more about you.”
“Likewise,” Lilith replied.
They reached the hallway where her room split off to the left with his to the right. She looked up at him, suddenly feeling unsure of what to say or do. There was a new intimacy between them, one borne of vulnerability and confessions of past hurts.
Certainly, it was the most intimate conversation she’d had with anyone in far, far too long. And he understood her. Like,
really understood her.
He made her feel seen.
As if hearing her thoughts, he gazed down at her, the soft look in his eyes confirming the quiet affection heating between
them. The light scent of his laundry detergent filled her senses, but beneath that was a spicy, masculine scent.
Her pulse fizzed like a shaken can of Coke.
She was just a girl with a cat in her arms, standing before a boy with a dog at his side.
And this suddenly felt so right.
Exactly where she was supposed to be.
He glanced down to her mouth and her heart caught in her chest where it remained, stuck like gum. Waiting for him to make
the first move.
Desperate for him to make the first move.
He smiled and looked down at the ground. “Good night, Lilith.”
Disappointment washed over her, raw and tangible. “Good night, Asher.”
They turned in opposite directions, Lilith suddenly eager for the solitude of her room, where she breathed out a long exhale.
She set Dragon on the bed. He yawned, revealing sharp white teeth and a curl of pink tongue.
Do you think it’s OK to have a relationship with one’s bed and breakfast owner? Lilith texted.
Essie replied immediately: It is absolutely encouraged, and I want all the details!
Lilith bit her lip. But what if I ruin it like everything else? This trip is so important.
Essie: You’re killing me. Embody Elizabeth Bennet and go for Mr. Darcy.
Lilith: She turned him down the first time, remember?
This time Essie’s reply came in all caps: KILLING ME! ??
Lilith laughed, but her mirth dimmed as she prepared for bed—as chilling memories of the dream from the night before replaced
the pleasant heat from her flirtations with Asher.
Because she wasn’t here to have some rom-com detour. She wasn’t even here to explore her family tree, like she’d let Essie
believe. Though that was only partially true.
Her life was in danger, and somehow she might could get wiped clean away from the world.
August 27…
And though she had the ingredients for a charm written in some old magical book—which admittedly was simultaneously cool and
ominous—she would only have two days left when she woke up.
She didn’t know what was on the other side of those two days, but she was terrified to find out.
Before going to sleep, she took the small pouch from Aunt Jacqueline and placed it under her pillow, hoping it might be as
effective as the peppermint tea had seemed.
And if those simple herbs made a difference, what might the combined effects of them in an actual charm do?
Because at this point, she needed all the help she could get.