Page 12 of One Touch

“I’ve never even had a fender bender before.”

“You know, with that white dust all over you, you kind of look like a ghost bride.”

“Well, thank you.”

“A lovely one. Just to, uh, clarify.”

“A lovely corpse. Just what everyone dreams of looking like on their wedding day.”

To my surprise, he looked at me with a serious expression. “No, Lily. This wasn’t your wedding day. It was the day you saved yourself from a life of misery. You have happiness ahead of you, Lily Lane. Trust me.”

As I looked up at his hard jaw and deep blue eyes, it struck me that I’d never really looked at Ethan like this before. He really was extremely good-looking. Dangerously good-looking. A proper grown-up. A real man. Strong-chested, thick-armed, and stern-eyed. Not like skinny little Vlad.

Totally wrong for me, of course. Ten years too old. A grieving widow. A dad. My best friend’s future brother-in-law. The list no doubt went on.

I shook my head, realizing I was doing it again—convincing myself the first man I saw was Prince Charming. Just because he wasn’t yelling at me for wrecking his garage didn’t mean he was my perfect man.

Besides, I’d sworn off men and romance just hours ago. Hadn’t I?

For a moment, I felt like Ethan was looking straight into my soul, reading my mixed-up mind.

“Okay,” he said decisively. “Come with me.” He took hold of my hand, and not knowing what else to do, I followed him deeper into the garage.

As I did so, I tried with all my might to ignore the silly intrusive thoughts entering my head.

The bird. The deer. The crash.

What if theywereall omens, after all? What if the universe had led me here, to Ethan McCoy, for a purpose?

Oh, jeez, no. I was most likely concussed. I needed to put an end to all this nonsense right now. And yet. . . .

Chapter 4

Ethan

Idon’t know howI managed to keep my cool.

If Lily had plowed into my auto shop just a little earlier, she would have smashedmeto pieces, as well as the Ferrari she’d practically annihilated. Ava had been here, too. And Susie.

At first, I couldn't help but think about Marie. The crash. How it had ended everything. But this crash—it was odd. It felt . . . different. Like a beginning, somehow. The way Lily had climbed out of that car, blinking like a newborn, that damn wedding dress, ripped to tatters. Lily reminded me of a Phoenix rising from the ashes. Except there were no flames to cause ashes, thank god. And somehow, miraculously, Lily didn't seem too badly hurt.

Obviously, I wasn't thrilled about the damage. That was the understatement of the century.

There was no way I could have shouted at the poor girl, though. She looked shell-shocked. As I led her into the cramped office at the back of my garage, she stumbled slightly, her eyes glazed over. I knew that look all too well. Adrenaline wascoursing through her body right now, keeping her going, not really letting her feel what was happening to her. I’d been there.

“Here, have a seat,” I said, guiding her into a worn leather chair. She sank into it gratefully.

“Is this your man cave?” She tried a strained smile.

I snorted. “This is where I do my taxes.”

“What about that gnarly-looking record player?”

My eyes darted to the old thing. Lily was right, it did look gnarly. It was a Denon DP-45F with deep walnut wood veneer and super-clicky brush chrome buttons. A relic from the 80s. “You like it?”

“It’s so ugly that it’s pretty. If that makes sense.”

“Like those freaky porcelain dogs in your bookstore?”

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