Chapter Nineteen
Soren
Alex slides into the passenger seat and leans across the center console to kiss my cheek. The affection makes me grin uncontrollably, putting me into an excellent mood as she straps herself in. While maneuvering my BMW down the winding road toward the entrance of the estate, she pulls out her phone and says, “All right, I have the first address here.”
“Shit,” I say while patting my pocket. I frown and point to the glove box. “Do me a favor and check in there for my gun.”
“I have one.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, but I don’t have mine.”
“Wow, so picky.”
I wink at her and then turn my attention back to the road, listening to Alex rummage through the glove box.
When I spare her a glance, I realize the mess she’s making. “Hey, easy—everything has its proper place in there.”
“Very picky.”
“One of us has to be organized.”
She giggles. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” After closing the glove box, she says, “And your gun isn’t in there.”
“Son of a bitch.” I slow down, make a three-point turn, and smoothly glide in the opposite direction of town. “Need to make a pit stop.”
“To?”
I smile. “To see Nana.”
The short drive makes me giddy. I haven’t had a chance to see my nana much since I was excommunicated from my own home. I park in the woods behind the cottage so the main house can’t see my car and then guide Alex to the rear door. Inside, the place smells like cinnamon, spice, and everything I could ever want in my own home.
“Nana?”
A clatter echoes from the kitchen. I smile at Alex and squeeze her hand, keeping her close as we wander through the den to the kitchen. One look at the couch puts me in an even better mood than when she kissed my cheek. Good memories here.
“Nana?”
“Mark? Is that you, dear?”
My right eyebrow shoots into the air. “Why is she calling me that?”
Alex looks worried. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Stay here.” I leave her in the doorway of the kitchen in search of my nana, hoping she hasn’t slipped and fallen somewhere. She appears on the other side of the island counter with a cup of tea in one hand and a spatula in the other. “Nana, are you okay?”
Her eyes look cloudy when she looks at me. “Mark, where have you been?”
“Nana, it’s me, Soren.”
“Soren?” She purses her lips. “No, that’s not the name of my future husband, Mark. It’s Donovan. And for the fifteenth time, I don’t want to marry him. But I’ll do as Father wants.” She sighs and says in a defeated tone, “You know how he can get when he’s mad.”
When I round the counter to reach for Nana, she looks at Alex, confusion warping her features. Then she looks so lucid that I wonder if I imagined the weird fit she just had. “Ms. Alex, don’t look so alarmed. Come in. Have a seat. I made tea.” She holds up the cup in her hand.
I sigh with relief and take her elbow gently. “Let’s go sit down. I can’t stay long.”
“But you just got here.”
“I know, Nana.” I smile tenderly while guiding her to the table. When she’s settled, I fix her a pot of tea and make it just how she likes, hoping it’ll soothe her nerves. I can tell she’s shaken up by my sudden appearance. I try not to think about how she’ll react to me leaving. “Stay right here.”