Page 29 of Marked

“No, I…” I ran a hand through my hair, aware I probably looked as overwhelmed as I felt. “I get it. Six months or no sale. Live here or lose the inheritance.”

“It’s not quite that dramatic,” Morrison said, but his eyes did that thing again—that quick flick to Marcus that was starting to feel very deliberate. “Think of it as an opportunity to connect with your heritage. Cedar Grove has a way of growing on people.”

Like moss, I thought. Or maybe fungus. A very attractive, unsettling fungus that kept showing up in the form of gorgeous brothers and making my scar tingle.

“Thank you for explaining,” I said, proud of how professional I sounded despite my internal panic. “I appreciate your time.”

“Of course, of course!” Morrison stood, gathering the papers. “I’ll have copies made of the relevant documents. And please, don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions. My door is always open to the Chen family.”

The way he said it made me wonder just how well he’d known my mother. How much he knew about why she left. Why she’d put this clause in place.

But those were questions for another day. Right now, I needed to process the fact that I was apparently stuck in Cedar Grove for six months. Six months of mysterious Stone brothers and weird attractions and that creepy feeling from the woods. Six months of my body betraying me every time Marcus looked at me like… like he was looking at me right now.

“Ready?” Marcus’ voice was soft, intimate in a way that made my skin prickle.

No, I wanted to say. I’m not ready for any of this.

But I nodded, because what else could I do?

The walk back through the reception area felt surreal. Margaret gave me a motherly smile that somehow managed to be both kind and knowing, like she was already planning to add me to the office Christmas card list. The grandfather clock chimed the hour, reminding me that I’d just lost control of the next six months of my life in less time than it took to watch a sitcom episode.

“You’re processing,” Marcus observed as we stepped out onto the covered porch. The rain had softened to a gentle mist, turning Cedar Grove’s main street into something out of a watercolor painting.

“That’s one way to put it.” I leaned against one of the white porch columns, needing the support. “I just… six months. That’s half a year. That’s two seasons. That’s—”

“A reasonable amount of time to decide if you truly want to sell a half-million-dollar property.” His voice was gentle but firm, like he was trying to talk me off a ledge. Maybe he was.

I leaned heavily against the column, thinking about that number. Half a million. Linda had mentioned it earlier, but hearing it again made it more real somehow. That was… that was life-changing money. Student loans gone. A decent apartment in Seattle. Maybe even a small startup fund for my own business someday.

“But it’s tiny! And old! And probably haunted!”

“Historical charm. Original features. Unique character.” He ticked off each point like he was reading from a real estate brochure. “Not to mention the land itself. Waterfront property in Cedar Grove is… precious.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You sound like you’ve thought about this.”

“I make it my business to know property values in town.” His smile was innocent, but his eyes held that predatory gleam again. “Especially significant ones.”

“Right. Because you’re basically the king of Cedar Grove or whatever.” I pushed off from the column, trying to think practically. “So I either leave now and lose a fortune or stay for six months and… what? Get a job at the local bookstore? Live off credit cards? Hope the cottage really is haunted and the ghost knows how to cook?”

“There are opportunities here,” Marcus said, following me down the porch steps. “If you’re willing to look for them.”

I thought about the Help Wanted sign I’d seen in the window of Stone & Page earlier. The poster that had seemed so perfectly timed. “Maybe. I did see that Stone & Page is hiring…”

“Ah, yes.” Something flickered in his expression. “Jane mentioned she was looking for help. Small world.”

Too small, I thought, and the name ‘Stone’ in the bookstore’s title suddenly seemed a lot more significant.

“I’ll give Jane a call tomorrow,” I said, watching the mist swirl around the streetlamps. “See if they’re still hiring.”

“A sensible plan.” He was standing close again, too close for my peace of mind. “You’re handling this well.”

“Am I? Because internally I’m screaming.” I turned to face him, which was a mistake because now I had to look up to meet his eyes, and that height difference did things to my insides that I wasn’t ready to analyze. “This is crazy, right? This wholesituation? The clause, the cottage, the…” I gestured vaguely between us. “…whatever this is?”

“This?” His voice dropped lower, and my scar pulsed in response.

“Don’t.” I took a step back. “Don’t do that thing where you repeat what I say in that voice that makes everything sound… more. I’m having enough crises today without adding…” I waved at his general everything. “…all that.”

His laugh was warm enough to chase away the mist’s chill. “All that?”

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