Page 57 of Dragon Touched
“Why, yes I did.” Her liver-spotted hands smoothed a simple, white apron. “Or, at least IthinkI did.” She winked.
He jumped the last three steps and towered above her. “Well?”
“Well, what?” A yawn escaped her mouth, and she flicked a piece of lint from a sleeve.
“Woman, you know what.” He flashed a scowl, but she looked about as scared as a hungry alligator on the hunt for a goldfish.
She clucked her tongue, rolled her eyes, then dug a fist inside a large pocket.
Fin tapped a toe against the floor and raked a hand through his hair.
“Hmm, where’d I put it?” Her glance cut sideways to Fin. “Must be having a senior moment.”
“Swear to the Divines, lady, I’ll pitch you out on your ear if you don’t—”
“Oh, come now.” A simple, white envelope slapped into his waiting palm. The return address read S. Scabbers.
He clutched it to his heart and climbed the stairs two at a time.
Blood sang in his ears, and he couldn’t think. Raven curls, olive skin, and pink lips invaded his thoughts.
The low hum of a song started below, and Margaret went about her business.
When he reached the desk in his study, with one arm, he swiped pens, paper, and powders to the floor. Barely giving the chair a glance, he sat and ripped the envelope open. At once, the scent of sweetpea blossoms and dewy mornings reached his nose, and his chest burned.
A smile split his face from ear to ear, and he held the paper to his nose and inhaled again. She wrote him back—maybe it meant she cared and accepted his apology.
Did I apologize?Of course, he did—he was sure. Well, if he didn’t actually write the apology, surely, she had read it between the lines.
Dear Fin,
You know, this would be easier if you’d embrace this world and buy a computer or a phone. And not a flip phone, either, an actual smart phone you can type on.
I’m fine. Trying to figure out this thing called life.
My anger got the best of me that day, and I didn’t mean what I said. Thank you for your help. I hope you find happiness wherever you decide to go. Give Cyan a cuddle and my love.
Sacha
“That’s it?” Fin turned the letter over. Nothing else was written, no matter how hard he stared. “And giveCyanyour love? What about me?” He slammed the paper onto the desk.
Leaving his perch, Cyan landed on the writing and rubbed his head against its smooth surface.
“Stop that. You’re going to tear it.” When Fin tried to snatch it out from under his claws, a thumb came away with a bloody gash. “Fine. Have it. While you’re at it—you can have her, too.”
At that moment, Margaret appeared in the doorway. “Fin?”
“What in the bloody hell do you want?”
She ambled to the desk and peered at the material now ensconced in Cyan’s talons.
A soft snicker shook her chest. “Don’t like your own medicine thrown back at you, huh?”
“I’m not in the mood to listen to your blabber. Get on with whatever it is you came in here for and leave me the hell—”
“Lorenzo was at the post office, trying to coax the employees into revealing Sacha’s address.”
“What?” He could feel blood draining from his face.
