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Page 93 of Resonance

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In contrast to the shop,the house was damn near spotless and fragrant with the scent of pine when I returned home later that afternoon. The old wood floors gleamed. The furniture, too.

“Since you wouldn’t let me go with you, I needed something to do.” Owen lifted his chin defiantly. “But don’t get any ideas about me being your houseboy or something.”

“You had something to do. It was supposed to be resting.” But I couldn’t resist the sly little twist of his smile and pulled him into my arms. The anger that’d been boiling my blood all day still churned through me like a river of fire, but the weight of Owen in my arms diffused it some.

“You know, you’re more cuddly than I gave you credit for.”

“It happens on a case-by-case basis.” I kissed the top of his head.

He’d made dinner, too, which I teasingly told him didn’t lend much credence to his assertion he wasn’t cut out for the houseboy lifestyle. As we ate, I told him about the insurance adjuster’s visit, and then my suspicions about Aiden, and he went wide-eyed before falling quiet and thoughtful.

After a few minutes, he pushed his plate away. “I don’t think he’d do that.”

“You don’t know him like I do. A desperate Aiden is a ruthless Aiden.”

Owen opened his mouth and then closed it again, seeming to reconsider.

After dinner, we headed out for a walk, taking the forest path. Spring was showing itself in furls of green on the branches of the oaks we walked underneath; the afternoons were lengthening. As we passed by the barn, Owen tugged me toward it. “There’s something I want you to see.”

“Oh, I’ve seen it. It’s a disaster. Don’t tell me you did more than clean the house today.”

“Just wait.” He flipped the latch and opened one of the wide double doors and then flicked the light switch next to it. I stared in mute wonder.

When I left for the tour, the barn had been filled with odds and ends, old furniture scattered pell-mell, with the riding lawnmower closest to the front so I could access it easily. Same as it had been for the last seven years. One more thing I’d never gotten around to sorting out.

And now? The central aisle had been cleared, and as we stepped deeper inside, I discovered the wash stall and tack room had been cleaned out and organized, too. The old furniture and odds and ends had been moved into a single stall at the far end of the barn, arranged in a tight jigsaw or boxed up and neatly stacked.

“You did this while I was gone?”

Owen shook his head. “Not me. Aiden. I mean, I’m assuming. Unless you have some ghosts who’ve devoted their afterlife to organizing earthly objects.”

“When?”

“I have no idea. Only discovered it the other night when I was out walking. Another reason I don’t think he broke into the shop.” He pinched his lower lip, looking away. “I really think I must have just forgotten to set the alarm or something and my memory got mixed up.”

I wasn’t convinced about Aiden, but I slung an arm around Owen and tilted his chin to meet my eyes. “Doesn’t matter now either way.”

He gave me a small smile, though I could tell it was still bothering him. But it would take me hours to explain Aiden’s history in detail, and wasn’t something I wanted to get into tonight.

“Are you gonna tell the police?”

I raked a hand through my hair in frustration and shrugged. “I don’t know what I’ll do yet. Wait until he calls me back, I guess. Not that it should make a goddamn difference because he won’t cop to it.” The detective I’d talked to said they didn’t have any other leads. No fingerprints, no witnesses aside from Owen, and I’d gotten the idea they weren’t investing a whole lot of time or manpower into solving something that involved mostly surface damage and a few thousands’ worth of old records and CDs.

I nudged Owen’s shoulder with mine. “C’mon, wanna go watch a movie?”

“If by watch a movie you mean sort of watch and mostly make out, sure, I’m in.” Owen had told me the doctor said he was fine to resume normal physical activity after a week, but to stop anything that grew uncomfortable, so I’d been careful with him, which of course he grumbled about.

“As long as it’s not a horror flick. Little hard for me to focus on you squirming all up on me when people are screaming in the background.”

“You’re so vanilla,” he teased. And just before we passed through the barn door, he flicked off the light with one last backward glance. “You should put some horses in here. Or animals. Whatever the hell you put in a barn. Pigs? Sheep? Sheep seem nice. And fluffy, too.”

“Thought you could stay out here if you piss me off.” I swatted his backside, and he danced away until I roped him close again.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing as an alternative to animals. You’d be right at home.”

Once back inside, I popped some popcorn, and we mostly ignored it through the first quarter of a rom-com Owen chose.