Page 63 of Chasing Shelter

Ellie pinned me with a hard stare. “Pry cheese out of my cold, dead hands.”

I barked out a laugh. “Good to know. Now, here’s the secret to cracking eggs. One swift rap on a sharp corner, not too hard, not too soft.”

Ellie pulled the corner of her lip into her mouth, and my fingers twitched at my side. “When I crack eggs, I get a million pieces of shell mixed in,” she admitted.

“Here.” I grabbed an egg, handing it to her.

She took it gingerly as if the egg were a bomb that might explode in her hands.

My lips twitched.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Ellie grumbled.

I held up both hands. “I’d never.” Then I moved in closer, covering her hand with mine. The second my skin touched hers, I realized my mistake. Everything about her was petal soft. But worse, her scent was stronger now. The bergamot and rose wrapped around me like a stranglehold.

“You need to keep a firmer hold.” My voice had gotten deeper, a rasp clinging to the words. “Like this.”

I gripped Ellie’s hand with mine, both of us holding the egg together, then brought it down in one swift rap on the counter’s edge. The egg cracked clean in two.

“Sorcery,” Ellie muttered.

I chuckled, releasing her to spill the contents of the shell into the bowl. “Now, you try.” It took everything in me not to move in again, to cup her hand in mine, to drown in that scent.

Ellie grabbed an egg from the carton, studying it like it held the secrets of the universe. “Firm grip.” Her slender fingers tightened around the egg. “One quick rap.” She brought the egg down on the counter, and it cracked right in two. Not as cleanly as our attempt together, but close.

She let out a squeal as she poured the egg into my bowl. “I cracked an egg without getting one million shell pieces in the mix.”

“You did,” I said with a grin.

She let out a soft giggle. “God, I’m such a nerd, getting excited about cracking an egg.”

“I don’t know. It seems like something to be proud of to me.”

Ellie smiled back at me. “Thanks for teaching me.”

Her phone dinged on the counter, and Ellie moved to quickly wash her hands. The phone let out another ding. Then another. I frowned as she stiffened and crossed to the device. As she studied the screen, her face paled slightly.

“What’s wrong?” I clipped.

Ellie quickly locked the phone, flipping it on silent before shoving it into her pocket. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” I pressed. Something had tweaked her. Even now, that slight tremor was back in her hands.

“Just some stuff I still have to sort out in New York. Nothing important.”

It was a lie. Maybe not the New York piece, but the rest. You didn’t go pale over things that weren’t important. Your hands didn’t shake. And you sure as hell didn’t concoct a lie.

Ellie might’ve shared pieces of her story with me, but she wasn’t sharing everything. And something had terrified her.

18

ELLIE

“I cannot getover how cute he is,” Fallon cooed, giving Gremlin’s head a little stroke as we explored row after row of the farmer’s market stalls. I’d put Grem in the sling I’d gotten him, and he was a happy camper.

“And he’s so sweet,” Thea said.

I rolled my lips over my teeth, trying not to laugh.

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