“How did you get in my car?”
“You left the window cracked about two inches. I’m pretty flexible, you know.”
I sighed. “No. I mean, when did you get in my car?”
“Oh,” She shrugged, her shoulders brushing her cheeks. “While you were in with the witch-were group. Lily told me about your dad. I thought you might need me, but then you were so mad at her on the phone, and I thought you might need someone to yell at, so I stayed out of sight.”
She wasn’t wrong about me needing someone to yell at. “Go back to Lily’s,” I ordered her.
“She really feels bad about not telling you right away, Haze.” Tiz’s sincere defense of my oldest friend moved me. Not enough to forgive her, yet, but it did take some of the sting off the hurt.
“Then she’ll need you, Tiz. Lily’s alone right now, and I can’t be there for her. I’ll get there, though, I promise.” I tipped her chin with my knuckle until her big brown eyes looked up at me. “So, go. Okay. I’ll check in later, I promise.”
I crossed my arms as I watched Tizzy climb up a nearby tree, jump onto the roof of a ranch house, take a flying leap off the far side, and disappear.
“She loves you,” Ford said. His blunt observation rattled me.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Some witches treated their familiars like tools, some as pets, but Tiz had always been more like family to me. A sister, of sorts. She kept me sane during an insane part of my life. I don’t know that I’d have made it out of Paradise Falls if it weren’t for her.
“Let’s get inside,” Ford said coldly. “I have the reports and witness statements laid out in the kitchen.”
Chapter Eleven
FORD’S HOUSE WAS UNEXPECTED. It was a three bedroom ranch house, with one bedroom converted to an office, and two bathrooms. The large kitchen with a stainless steel convection oven, a gas range, a butcher block top center island, a double well stainless steel sink, a peg wall full of high-end pots and pans, and granite counters. His side-by-side refrigerator was bigger than my clothes’ closet in my bedroom back home, and he had a large pantry. This was a kitchen for someone who loved cooking.
“Are you any good?” I asked when we moved to the center island. Photos, newspaper clippings, official reports, and oddly two books that appeared well-read if the worn edges of their binding were any indication.
His brows raised. “Good at what?”
I warmed under his heated gaze.
“Cheffing.” I gestured to the room. “It’s quite the kitchen.” The dark brown curtains matched his hair color, and the pale blue walls complimented his eyes. Coincidence? “The choice of colors…”
“Tanya picked the colors.”
Heat crept up my neck. “She did, did she?” My words sounded tight in my ears. It was taking every ounce of my control not the tear down the curtains and slash the walls with the professional knives in the butcher block caddy near the stove top.
He noted my indignation and smiled. “Yep.” He nodded. “As a favor.”
“She sure likes to do you a lot of favors.”
“You forfeited your right to be angry when you left me.”
“Seriously? We never dated.” His insistence that I was his mate and somehow should have magically known tweaked my ire. “You act as if we were together. I’d never even so much as had a conversation with you if you don’t count the time in the lunch line when you asked me to hand you the catsup.”
He shook his head as if to deny my words. “My life was good, Hazel. I got good grades, I had the perfect girlfriend, and I knew what I wanted to be when I got out of high school. Then you come along one night, and on a drunken dare, you kiss me.” His next words were almost hushed and reverent. “You changed me, Haze. When you did that, you changed everything.”
I rolled my eyes. “I never knew just how transformative my lips were.” I threw my hands up in the air. “If I’d have known that I could turn popular