Page 37 of Rejected Exile

"Darling. It was nothing." She puts her arm around my shoulders and squeezes. "Besides, you madequitethe impression. I'm pretty sure a fly flew into Lance's mouth, he was so shocked. And not in a bad way."

"You can't be sure of that."

"Honey, you backed your half-naked ass up into him. Then he turned around. I'msure."

"I don't know how I can go out there again," I confess. "This feels like that dream where you're in class for the exam, and you realize that you're naked."

"Lucky for you, youweren'tnaked, and this isn't high school." Cat gives me a kiss on the cheek, then pushes me up off the bed—not gently. "You're an adult now, Lilah. Get out there and face the slightly embarrassing music. Or I'll make you."

I smile at her. "I'm so glad I have you around. Don't leave me, okay?"

"Not until you're ready, I promise."

It's not until I've grabbed the door and forced myself out into the hallway that I realize she didn't exactly say yes to my question.

One day, possibly soon, Cat and I are going to find ourselves standing in separate worlds. Her on the human side. And me—well, I'm not entirely sure yet.

I just hope that whatever comes between us, our love for each other remains the same.

* * *

Thankfully the incident seems to have been forgotten—or at least, no one directly brings it up to my face. Lance offers to help me sand the floors down, and Finn helps him clear the table out of the dining room so we can take care of some of the damaged flooring and cracked crown moulding in there. Roarke lets me know of a good insulation and siding contractor to speak to; he promises to put in a good word so I get the family rate.

But each time I stare at them for more than a second or two, I feel that strange fluttering in my stomach. My cheeks heat, and my thoughts go a little... slippery. Because no matter how I try, despite how impossible and inappropriate it is, I can't help but feel attracted to them.

It's almost a relief when someone rings the doorbell, and I'm able to spring out of the room and put some distance between me and the three hulking hunks.

"I'll get that! It's probably just a delivery."

Sliding over to the front room, I take a moment to calm the beating of my heart before I open up the door.

And come face-to-face to someone I was overdue to meet up with from the moment I stepped foot in Juniper.

"Niall." I stare up into his face, which is more lined than I remember. His dark hair has receded from his forehead considerably, and he has a new five o'clock shadow that threatens to become facial hair. "I was expecting to see you sooner."

"I got caught up with something," he says without apologizing. "Heard you made it to town okay, though. I'm glad. We missed you at the ceremony."

My father's resting funeral—the moment his body was burned to ashes, sealed in a ceremonial urn, and placed in the Elder Tomb.

"It was a long trip," I tell Niall, which is my way of politely not saying that I didn't want to show up for the ceremony. "I wasn't able to make it in time."

He politely doesn't point out that I could've flown in. We're doing this dancing-around-the-subject thing quite well so far. Neither one of us mentions the last time we saw each other in person. He doesn't ask how I managed to survive exile, and I don't offer any kind of explanation.

"Well. I trust you found everything in order—your father's things, and the house deed? I gave instruction for it to be given over to you."

"I had to stop by the public records office, but I didn't have any trouble."

"They were supposed to bring it by." He frowns for a moment. "But you got it. That's good, that's good."

Clearing his throat, he looks at me for a long moment, and something like anger crawls up inside me and lodges at the base of my skull.

"What do you want, Niall?" Glancing over his shoulder, I spot his pickup truck by the curb. It isn't the one he drove me out of the territory in, but it's similar—and there's someone sitting in the passenger seat, too far away for me to make out. "Whatever it is, just get it over with. I have a lot of work to do. The house isn't in the best shape."

"Ah—yeah." A flicker of shame crosses his face. "Your father wanted to do more work on it. He ran out of time."

A lump forms in my throat, and I beat it down. Now is not the time for grief. Not for my father, the man who left me in this mess in the first place, and especially not in front of his right-hand man.

Finally Niall says, "I came by to see when you want to put the house up for sale. I know it needs some work—I made sure you'd be able to get help at a discounted rate, to fix up the place—but the sooner it can be sold, the better."

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