Page 63 of The Candlemaker

Her head angled, and my hand on the wheel tightened as her brow creased.

“You’re…dropping me off?”

“Yeah.”

For what she’d just done for me—for Mom—the least I could do was leave her in peace. At least until tonight. She’d already helped me in a way she hadn’t needed to, a way I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to repay. For the first time in a long time, I worried about what this would cost me. I worried about the price I would pay for needing Frankie Kinkade.

“What are you going to do?”

I had no idea. I couldn’t go back to Edgewood; there was nothing more I could do there except stand around like a poster boy for pity. I should call Tom. Update him, eventhough Cathy probably already had. But to update him meant I had to explain Frankie…and I didn’t have words to explain her right now.

Gorgeous. Defiant. Clever. Loyal. Generous. Persistent.

Okay, maybe I had plenty of words to describe her, but none to explain what she was doing to me.

“Work.” My default. My shelter.

“Are you sure?—”

“Just go, Frankie.” My voice cracked.

She’d done enough. Too much. And if she stayed, she’d do more. Give more. And I wouldn’t be strong enough to resist her.

“Okay.” She opened the door and got out.

My head turned, following the sway of her hips toward her shop. That was too easy. My frown deepened, expecting her to turn around at any second and insist—demand something. To ask something. To say anything. But then she unlocked her shop and disappeared inside, and the weight on my chest that I’d hoped would lift only intensified.

“Dammit,” I muttered and pounded my palm on the steering wheel.

What was I thinking, wanting her to stay? Wanting her to fight for me?Christ.She’d already saved Mom today, who the hell was I to need saving, too?

I punched the start button, my hand landing on the shifter just as the dash beeped an alert.

Key not detected.

“What the…” My head whipped around, checking my pockets. I had it when we left Edgewood—obviously—or we wouldn’t have made it back. My hand stilled, my fingers feeling in the cupholder where I remembered putting the keys, and then I slowly lifted my head, my gaze zeroing in on the door to the Candle Cabin.

Frankie.

My breath whooshed out. I should be angry, not relieved. I shouldn’t be laughing that she’d stolen my damn keys so I couldn’t leave. But I was. My insides felt like a tangled-up mess of emotions, and she managed to make me smile. Without even fucking being here.

I got out of my car and closed the door loudly, knowing she was listening. Waiting.Knowing I wasn’t going to get far.

I tried the knob first.Of course, she locked it.I reeled in the smile that wanted to break free and rapped on the glass pane in the door. It opened almost instantly.

“Oh, you’re still here,” she said, blinking up at me.

God, I wanted to fuck that look of feigned innocence off her face. I wanted to the first time I saw it—standing on the damn sidewalk next to her fake séance. That was why I’d thrown down the challenge.

“Hard to go anywhere without car keys.”

Her lashes fluttered again. “You don’t have your car keys?”

“You know I don’t.”

She pressed her hand to her chest, incredulity masking everything but the dance in her eyes. “You think I have your keys?”

My head cocked. “I know you do.”

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