Page 91 of Just A Little Magic

“I know how to use an Alden wrench, asshole.”

“But do you though?” I asked. “Because that’s anAllenwrench, and it’s the wrong size.”

“Just because my dad didn’t teach me how to use a wrench doesn’t mean I’m useless. He taught me other things, thank you.”

“Oh yeah,” Reed interjected, “like what?”

“Like how to make small talk in a room full of people I would rather not talk to, and that’s been a helluva a lot more useful.”

Well, fuck, fair point. I handed him the proper size, and he started making some progress on the crib.

There’d been no question that Owen’s new nursery would be in my original lair. It would be close enough for him to use it any time he wanted and not feel separated from the bedroom.

On Wednesday, I bribed one of Quinn’s crew—with his blessing—to put up panel molding after she got off work so it would be ready for the painters. Thursday morning, the wallpaper company installed the paper so the painters could come in on Friday and do their thing.

The furniture delivery was delayed until first thing on Saturday. Gabe skipped out on an early meeting in his office, and his assistant blew up his phone in retaliation. Reed worked an overnight shift and showed up with a scruffy beard and a cup of coffee. He claimed doctors learned how to exist on no sleep in residency and never lost it.

Overall, the room had come together quicker and easier than I’d anticipated.

Since I’d had time yesterday, I’d pulled all the items I’d collected and stashed from his design board, the ones I could figure out anyway, and brought them up to the room. I wouldn’t be completely finished, but I wanted to get as much done as possible before Owen got home.

The original plan had been to leave the lodge by noon, and with traffic, it would be close to three but more likely three and a half hours to get home. It left enough time for him to nap and relax before the Halloween party.

I was a little surprised he hadn’t texted me other than his quick good morning when he first got up, and he hadn’t responded to any of the texts I’d sent either. The weather was clear, but the reception could still be spotty in the mountains.

Between the three of us Daddies, we finished the nursery around noon. That left me a few hours to make the bed, put away clothes, and generally make it perfect. Elizabeth kept me company, but she also kept running up and down the stairs tothe front door. The security monitor pinged around four, and we both raced downstairs to greet Owen. I threw open the door, and he was walking up the steps.

“Hey, babe, I’ll get your suitcase.”

“Thank you, but you don’t need to do that.” Owen moved toward the door but brushed past me. My attempt to hug him was rebuffed.

What the fuck is going on?

“I don’t mind getting it. Uh, babe, is something going on ’cause it sure seems like something is something going on.”

I’d followed Owen up the front steps onto the porch and over to the sitting area on the far side. Elizabeth came out the open front door and leaped into his arms. She angled herself so her front arms encircled his neck and he supported her haunches. Her purrs were loud enough to be heard down the street. She rubbed her head along his jaw and clutched him close. I didn’t want to interrupt when it was apparent he felt some kind of way about something he wasn’t ready to share with me.

I could wait.

After a few minutes, Elizabeth curled up on his lap for a nap. She purred in her sleep at his continued ministrations. He traced along the shell of her ears and her spine. It was obvious he needed to gather his thoughts before he spoke.

For the life of me, I couldn’t imagine what could have happened at a weekend retreat when, up until this moment, everything seemed fine. We’d spoken a few times each day, and I’d sent multiple cat videos. I was at a loss.

“Why did you rig the auction?”

“Because I wanted to win.”

“Well, that’s succinct, I guess. Did it occur to you I’d be upset about that?”

Owen didn’t look directly at me but focused on some spotalong the tree line. His question made me pause for a minute. Had it occurred to me that he’d be upset?

“No, not really. I was so focused on winning that I didn’t think you’d care how I won it. But when Kim found out, she said it was a dumb plan and I should stop wasting time and just talk to you.”

At Owen’s arched brow, I knew there was no chance in hell he wouldn’t tell her she’d been spot-on.

“We’d been at an impasse for so long that I needed to do something to move the needle. It seemed like a reasonable way to do it. In my mind, it wasn’t manipulation so much as ensuring I’d have the chance to prove what I needed to prove.”

“How is that different from manipulation?”

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