Defensive Magic: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Tale (Lost Library Book 3) by Kate Baray Page B

whole bizarre burial ritual conversation reminded me of Matylda.”
    She had started wearing Matylda’s sapphire ring on her left hand—the ring finger. He’d always been clear about his level of commitment. In his mind, they were more than married, and he was confident she understood that. But he also knew that when Lizzie decided she was fully committed to the relationship, she’d want to get married. She grew up in a family and a culture where committed people typically married. Too soon, too fast, and she’d just say no. Clearly, not his preference, so he’d wait. But in the interim, he was happy for her to be wearing a family heirloom in lieu of the engagement ring he wasn’t sure she’d accept from him.
    He tried for a lighthearted tone. “About that, Chris might have some information about Matylda. You remember Chris? She helped out with your kidnapping marathon.”
    “Cute. Two kidnappings does not a marathon make…I think. And yes, of course, I remember her. She did all of the background research that you gung-ho, beat ‘em up types have such a hard time with.”
    Her words and tone were light, but she still looked subdued. But he couldn’t bring himself to discuss the challenge. Maybe they could just pretend it hadn’t happened. Right. He mentally shrugged away the guilt—for now. Chris. They’d been discussing Chris.
    “I know your Internet searches so far haven’t yielded much, so I asked her to do a little background—on both Matylda and your family tree. She’s coming over for dinner tonight, and I think she’s planning to bring something with her.”
    Her eyes shot up to meet his. “We’re having people for dinner? Who? When?” she asked and then looked down at her cargo shorts and T-shirt.
    He couldn’t help but smile. “You’re fine. We’re doing barbeque. And it’s just Chris and her husband, Ben, Scott and his wife, Max, and Logan.”
    “Uh-huh. When are they arriving?” she asked with a look of panic on her face.
    “In an hour.” But he was talking to her ponytail as she stripped and hustled to the bathroom at the same time. And when she just about tripped as she hopped on one leg while trying to yank off one of her Keen sandals, he couldn’t help but laugh.
    She caught herself on the doorjamb to the bathroom and shot a glare over her shoulder. “They’re your friends, but they’re my guests. Grrr.” And with that she continued her frantic flight into the bathroom. From inside the bathroom, he heard her muffled voice. “I’ll be out in five minutes. Five. Is the kitchen clean?”
    If he understood what just happened, then Lizzie had said—in a roundabout way—that she felt like this was her home. Maybe he wouldn’t have to explain why he had acted like a complete psychopath today. Maybe she already got it—and maybe she was okay with it.
     

Chapter 14
    “I have a housekeeper. The kitchen is definitely clean.” John’s muffled voice traveled through the bathroom door.
    Steam floated through the bathroom as the water in the shower heated up. A five-minute shower was a crime. Not burying dead bodies on your neighbor’s land kind of crime—but still really bad. She ducked into the shower, banishing thoughts of dead bodies.
    Okay, so he had a housekeeper. But still, if people were coming over, Lizzie wanted to at least have a quick walk-through. And what about the food? Who was bringing that? Were she and John supposed to be cooking? Lizzie scrubbed the washcloth a little more frantically over her body. Ducking her head under the spray one more time, she decided that would have to be good enough. She might not have much time, but she wasn’t going to her first Pack event smelling like anxiety and fear. And she’d been sweating in the truck the entirety of the fight exuding exactly those smells, she was sure.
    She hopped out of the shower, drying off quickly. “What are we supposed to be doing for food?” she hollered as she towel-dried her hair.
    John poked