Page 18 of Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places
Lucky began creeping closer to the door to give them space and experienced an immediate change in the room’s temperature. It was colder but subtly so, as if a few degrees had been swiped from the air by a skilled pickpocket. One would only realize the absence if they were concentrating. Her preoccupied companions didn’t seem to.
Rebel eventually answered, “I don’t know.”
“Not having an answer yet and needing more time to think about it is okay.” He inhaled, filling his lungs, holding it and exhaling as fast as he could. “Let’s just put this conversation on pause for now. We’ll talk through it some more when we get home.”
Lucky had made it across the hall, and was standing in the library doorway when Maverick joined her. She showed him the secret room. He remarked that the camera had been on the entire time. And they sat in their respective chairs again.
It didn’t take much more than that to realize something was wrong.
“Hey,” she said quietly. “She’s fine. Sitting in the next room.” They could even see her from where they sat.
Maverick had held it together at breakfast and in front of Rebel, but his internal turmoil began seeping into Lucky the second they were alone. He was spiraling—distant, almost robotic, and ensnared by a mental loop.
“I know. I—” He squeezed his eyes shut, slightly shaking his head.
She placed her hand on top of his to ground him. Occasionally she’d let her nanny care extend to parents. While this wasn’t what she’d been hired to do in Hennessee House, taking the time to help him wouldn’t hurt anything. She made tight circles with her thumb along his wrist.
His attention snapped back to the present, focusing on their hands and then her face. The look in his eyes made her heartbeat jolt from normal to erratic in what had to be record time, but under her thumb, his remained strong and steady.
“Thank you for finding her.” He used that tone again, the same one from earlier when he’d said her name.
“I didn’t,” she said honestly, automatically. “It was pure coincidence.”
“There’s no such thing in Hennessee House. I was terrified it lured her away—maybe it did, I don’t know.”
“Rebel told me she saw the red square in some pictures. She even asked permission first, but Georgia said no. I think she was making her own choices. A bad one, but a choice.”
All at once he took a deep, shaking breath, entire torso moving with effort as he returned to himself. “Yeah, that’s what she told me too.”
Lucky casually pulled her hand away under the guise of fidgeting in her seat. She tried to hide taking the deep breath she needed as well. Did he have any idea howintensehe felt? “I am in no place to question you, but I’m wondering if it’s safe for her to be here?”
“It should be.” He scoffed lightly. “The house doesn’t mess with children and Xander was adamant that it’s dormant-reactive during the day.”
Lucky noted the phrase,dormant-reactive, and tucked it awayto ask about later. It sounded straightforward enough for now. “How does he know that?”
“Neighborhood kids dare each other to break in all the time and Hennessee safely escorts them back out. Usually through the front door—we have footage of it opening on its own and them leaving,” he said. “I think that’s why they thought the show would work, but apparently, the safety features don’t apply to adults.”
“That is…interesting.” He really sprinkled in that revelation like it was a garnish to add a little extra flavor. It took every ounce of willpower she had to remain calm and not bombard him with questions. She had to focus on him. On helping him like she planned. Andthenshe’d ask. “Anyway, um, Rebel’s very special. You’re doing great with her.”
“Special, yeah.” He exhaled into a laugh.
“Oh, no, I wasn’t being sarcastic. She’s very creative and—”
“It’s okay.” He held up his hand. “You don’t have to do that. Rebel is…her namesake, in the best and worst way. I know she’s not sorry because she didn’t apologize tome. That would require lying, which she doesn’t do. Dance around the truth? Bend it until it warps? Omit important details? Yes. Without hesitation. But she never flat out lies to me.”
“Ah, so she’s a tiptoe trapper.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s when they tiptoe around the truth so well, they trap you with semantics and all you can say isWell you’re not wrong, which makes them think they’re right even when they’re not.”
A quiet, triumphant thrill shot through her as the right side of his mouthquirked. “Did you make that up?”
“I did. Saw it enough and figured it needed a name.”
“Saw it where?”
Not only had she walked right into that, she’d been the one to open the damn door. How did he keep doing this to her?How?Maverick’s eyes held the kind of intensity she usually avoided. A true penetrating gaze, he could probably see straight into her soul and tell her exactly how many lies she’d told in her entire life. If she weren’t sincere, she suspected he’d know it immediately.
