Page 12 of Second Chance with the Half-Elf
Get a grip, Thalen.
I force my voice steady. “East dock’s reinforced. Watch your step there tomorrow. Beam’s solid, but the sealant’s not set.”
Her mouth curves—barely. “Thanks.”
And not just for the warning.
I can hear it in the way she says it—in the way her gaze lingers half a second longer than it should.
I nod once, sharp, and step past her before the tide drags me any deeper.
Distance.
You promised.
But as her scent follows me into the dark—salt and wildflowers and memory—I know this fight’s far from over.
And I’m not sure who’s going to drown first.
CHAPTER 5
EVIE
Idon’twantto be at the damn bookstore.
Which, naturally, is why Rowan ropes me into helping first thing the next morning.
“You owe me,” she says, all sing-song over the phone. “Besides, it’ll keep your mind occupied.”
Yeah. Because alphabetizing local history volumes and slinging free bookmarks is exactly what’s going to scrub Aeron Thalen’s stupid too-broad shoulders and sharper-than-necessary jaw out of my brain.
Still. I show up.
Because if I stay at the beach house one more hour staring at that photo of us wedged inThe Odyssey, I’ll start throwing plates.
The Gilded Page smells like cinnamon and old paper and the faintest trace of jasmine from Rowan’s ridiculous tea blends.
I used to love this place—back before the world turned sharp around the edges.
Now I eye the leaning towers of books like a soldier scouting enemy lines.
Rowan waves me toward the front counter, Jamie curled up on a beanbag behind her, nose buried in a pop-up atlas.
“You,” she says, grinning. “Reshelve these, keep me company, and distract me from the fact that I’ve got a council budget meeting at noon.”
I eye the stack. “You just love exploiting my weaknesses.”
“Only the harmless ones.” She winks.
I snort, grab the books, and weave my way into the maze of shelves.
It’s strangely soothing.
The rhythm of it—pull, place, adjust—like piecing together some forgotten language.
I’m halfway through the mythology section when the front door chimes.
A low voice drifts through the air.
