Always Be My Banshee by Molly Harper

Author:Molly Harper [Harper, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781641971621

8

Cordelia

Cordelia stumbled back to her trailer, ignoring Sonja’s requests that she just sit down.

From his porch, Brendan’s face sparked with a warm, happy grin, and seeing it confused her. What was he doing, letting her believe that she was the one putting it on his face when he’d been so weird with her that morning? “Cordelia, darling, have you—”

Cordelia held up a gloved finger in Brendan’s face and bared her teeth as she seethed, “No! I’m not ready to head back to work!”

Brendan’s blue eyes went wide as he took several steps back from her. “Understood.”

She practically hissed at him before she unlocked her trailer door and slammed it behind her. Flopping face-down on her couch, she forced herself to breathe deeply and not cry.

“What are the freaking odds?” she whispered.

Alex Carver was in Mystic Bayou. The maelstrom of shock and embarrassment and a dozen other warring emotions fighting for the surface of her mind broke free all at once and she couldn’t help the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes. Less than a minute in Jillian’s office with Alex and she was back to that confused, vulnerable kid she’d been the last time she’d seen him.

Suddenly, the possibility of her mother showing up in Mystic Bayou didn’t seem so remote, since everybody seemed to end up here sooner or later. And that didn’t exactly make her feel better.

She wasn’t sure how long she laid there, letting the anxiety pull her under its dark weight. It was long enough for the corduroy throw pillow under her head to get soaked and the shadows to shift across the walls. A soft knock at her door startled her out of her daze-slash-doze.

A few seconds later, another knock.

“Go to hell!” she yelled, not even sure who was knocking in the first place.

The voice on the other side of the door was muffled. “Um, Cordelia, it’s Sonja…and Jillian.”

Holy hell, she’d yelled at her boss. And Sonja.

She sprang up from the couch and pulled the door open. They had changed into slouchier clothes, or at least, Sonja’s version of slouchy clothes, which involved a cashmere sweater and jeans that looked like they were tailored to her. All while Cordelia was pretty sure she had corduroy marks embedded into her face.

“I’ve declared an emergency girls’ night,” Jillian told her, her brows furrowed. Probably from the corduroy marks. “I get that this is very invasive, us coming over uninvited, but I saw the look on your face when you recognized Lancaster. And Sonja said you mentioned insane, self-destructive teenage romance, while turning multiple colors. You do not need to be alone right now.”

Cordelia opened her mouth to protest. But she’d tried being alone. She’d perfected the art, really. It hadn’t done her a lot of good, when she thought about it. Also, she’d already yelled at her boss. Turning away a kind offer to spend an evening with Cordelia—instead of at home with her handsome dragon fiancé—would probably be worse.

She opened the door and motioned them inside.

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