Page 59 of Unmarked Magic

I lay awake listening to the rhythm of her breathing, memorizing it like a man convinced it was the closest he would ever get to a future he wasn’t allowed to have.

During the night, her hand found mine.

I didn’t remove it.

Scarlet

From the moment I woke, unease settled low in my stomach. The kind that didn’t need a reason to exist, it simply did.

It was Reid. Something wasn’t sitting right about him, but I ignored it. Because he was probably feeling the same as me: confused after yesterday at the manor, and our admissions to each other in the dark last night.

We had left the hut what seemed like hours ago before we finally found the trail back to Cutters Cove again. I recognized the large tree stump on the dirt track from my way to the manor last night.

Ahead of us, daylight broke through the forest, and I sighed in relief as light scattered through the trees in the distance. “Finally. I’m looking forward to a shower,” I muttered, trying to keep the vibe light after our night of shared accommodation. Making our way toward the edge of the tree line, I darted him a sideways glance. “I’m not a fan of smelling like dead elk.”

His appearance did nothing to calm my nerves. Even with hair misplaced and a rumpled jacket, he still looked sexy as all hell. I grimaced at the thought of if I’d not stumbled across that hut, because spending the night there alone would have been the end of me. I was shit-scared of the dark.

Luckily, my magic had led me to it. It was as if the leaves in the forest were speaking to me, heightening every sound around me. Twigs breaking, owls leaving their nests. Every instinct had tugged me in one direction. The forest had seemed to breathe around me until every step I took felt inevitable, dragging me to him.

My problem now? I didn’t know if I was mad, disappointed, or wanted to jump his bones. He had finally opened up, and his muscular arms had engulfed me in his warmth all night. I’d never felt so safe. So maybe it was a combination of all three.

Reid moved ahead of me, pushing a branch out of the way and holding it until I passed. “Has anyone ever said you smell like wild berries?”

I scrunched up my nose. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

I laughed. “That’s oddly specific. And no.” I continued walking as the tree line grew closer. “You smell like musk,” I countered, remembering the scent that always seemed to follow him.

He turned to look at me, unconvinced. “As in stale air?”

I laughed. “Not must, musk. As in, earthy, woodsy. It’s hard to describe.”

A crooked smile creased the corners of his eyes. “Guess spending years covered in sawdust finally paid off.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling.

Finally emerging from the forest, daylight made me squint as my eyes adjusted. Reid’s wagon came into view in the distance. Unbelievable.

“Well, we couldn’t have planned that any better,” he muttered, continuing toward it. His pushed on ahead of me, and I struggled to keep up with his long strides now we were out in the open.

“Slow down,” I said, as I ran a few steps to catch up. His long legs had an inch or five on mine. For once I was in flat shoes, not my boots.

Reid slowed, waiting until I was at his side, staring down at me. “Sorry, I forget your legs aren’t as long as mine.”

I couldn’t tell if he was trying to make a joke, so just opted to shove him playfully in the side and say nothing.

The drive back home did nothing to calm my insides, and I was thankful when we finally pulled into our driveway. When Reid cut the motor, a snowflake dusted the windshield, followed by another, and another.

“More snow,” I said.

“That time of year,” Reid replied, pulling out his phone. He scrolled to his weather app. “There’s an unexpected storm closing in. Blizzard-like conditions. We’re not going anywhere today.”

Fucking great.

I didn’t dare look at him. Because I knew his thoughts would mirror my own: another night, just us. Not awkward at all.

He cleared his throat, shoving his phone back into his pocket and throwing open the car door. I did the same, then followed him up the footpath.