Page 18 of Owl’s Cherished Mate

“Sorry,” I said.

He didn’t say anything, but there was something passing through his eyes I couldn’t name. We stood there for a heartbeat until the sound of a chair scraping the floor nearby snapped us both out of whatever moment we’d been locked in. Gray reached out for the door again, holding it open for me, and I walked through it without looking at him because I didn’t trust what my face might be doing.

What the heck was that all about? What just happened? And why did he look so stunned?

Outside, the cool air hit my flushed cheeks. I pulled in a breath and tried to get my pulse under control.

“Thank you for the pie and cup of coffee,” I said. “I should get home, though.”

Gray nodded. “Anytime.”

We walked toward my car without discussing it, and he just fell into step beside me the way he had on the walk over. When we reached my beat-up sedan, I turned to face him. He stood a few feet away with his hands in his pockets. There was a calm expression on his face that I was starting to realize wasn’t calm at all. It was more like patience.

There was a difference.

“Thanks again,” I said, meaning it.

“No problem. Let me know if you need anything.” He pulled his phone out. “What’s your number? I’ll text you so you have mine. Just in case you ever need it.”

I rattled it off before I could overthink it. A second later, my phone buzzed. I didn’t tell him I’d probably never call him, but it was a nice gesture.

One I appreciated.

“There,” he said. “Anyway. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” I said, digging my keys out of my purse. “At the library.”

Because this wasn’t a date. I mean, it hadn’t been.

Right?

I didn’t have time to date. Not right now. Heck, maybe not ever.

Gray waited until I’d climbed in my car and started the engine before stepping back. I pulled out of the lot, and when I glanced in the rearview mirror, he was still standing there. Watching.

Maribel’s words came back again.

He sees you.

Yeah. He did.

And there was a part of me that wanted him to, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

8

GRAY

Icouldn’t sleep.

Not that I ever did—owls were nocturnal by nature, and my body had never fully cooperated with a human schedule. Most nights I was up until two or three, reading. It was my favorite part of the day. Just me and whatever book I’d pulled from the shelf.

Tonight, the book sat open in my lap. I hadn’t turned a page in an hour because I kept thinking about Bonnie. Everything she’d told me earlier looped through my head. I could still hear the emotion in her voice when she talked about her brother.

My owl hadn’t settled since.

He paced inside me, all agitated and prickly. He wanted me to do something to help her, to fix the situation she was in. He wanted me to protect her, to stand between her and every cold-eyed vulture who’d ever made her flinch.

Vultures were scavengers by nature—they didn’t hunt, they circled. They locked in on the weak.