An Unlocked Mind (Secrets #2)(34)

Rob had to smile. “Really?”

Vic nodded. “I loved the film. What I didn’t know, however, was that even though this film isn’t at all scary, the books are another matter. The Tin Man? In the books his limbs are cut off one by one because of a curse. Throughout the series, Baum showed some really scary things. I wouldn’t say these are kid’s books at all, even if the film is sugarcoated.”

The truth about the books made the thought of seeing the film a lot more intriguing. Rob had never read any of the stories, but if he enjoyed the film, he would go to the secondhand book shop in Manchester to see if any of them were available.

He watched the film with rapt attention. It was indeed sappy, but Rob could see the underlying hint of menace in it. He could easily tell how the book could have been written to scare kids out of their minds, which made him all the more eager to delve into the world the author had created.

“So, what did you think?” Vic asked, as he turned the lights back up.

“It was good,” Rob admitted. “Now I want to read the books.”

Vic smiled wide. “Excellent!” He went to the bookcase and pulled out a tattered paperback, which he handed to Rob. “It’s not in the best condition, but I figure you’ll enjoy it anyway.”

Rob took the book and flipped through the pages. He stared at the notations in the margins. “How could you do this to a book?”

Vic laughed. “I’ve had that book since I was fourteen. I’ve read and reread it many times since.”

Rob stilled. He couldn’t believe Vic would give him something that held such significance in his life. “I can’t take your book.” He held it out to Vic, who shook his head.

“You can and you will. If you want to read them, then you need to start with the first one. I have another copy, so you can take it with you. If you want, when you’re done, bring it back and we’ll discuss it.”

“Are you sure? What if I lose the book?”

Vic shrugged. “It’s a thing and can be replaced. Yes, it’s a sentimental possession, but not one I would be horribly upset over if it were lost. Besides, I want us to share our love of reading. Think of all the things we could discuss.” Vic sat down beside Rob. “Tell you what. Next time you come, bring me one of your favorites. We can both expand our horizons.”

Next time? He said it, but…. He really wants me to come back? Rob’s heart thudded hard. He couldn’t get over the fact that Vic had so much faith in him, plus he actually seemed to enjoy having Rob in his home. What would it be like if…?

No, he had to stop thinking like that. It was a pipe dream at best, and not something Rob could allow himself to think about.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Vic smiled. “You’re welcome. So, what do you want for breakfast in the morning? We can eat here, or we can go out.”

Rob grinned. “Do you know how to make french toast?”

When Vic put a hand on Rob’s arm, he swore he could feel the heat all the way to his core. “Rob, my boy, I’ll make you the best french toast you’ve ever had.”

He smiled and Rob melted on the inside.





Chapter Eleven


GETTING OFF the train in Manchester on Sunday should have felt like coming home, but it didn’t. The whole way there, Rob couldn’t get the time he’d spent with Vic out of his mind, which… unsettled him.

He keeps doing stuff that surprises me.

Like breakfast that morning, for instance.

Rob had entered the kitchen to find Vic standing at the stove, wearing a green apron. He glanced over his shoulder at Rob and smiled before returning to his task.

“Good morning. There’s coffee on the table and breakfast will be ready in a sec.”

Then Rob had spied the glass of orange juice, not to mention the butter dish and a bottle of maple syrup. He smiled. “I take it we’re not having cereal.”

Vic gave him another glance, his eyebrows arched. “I promised you french toast, remember?”

Damn. He had forgotten. Rob sniffed, inhaling different delicious aromas. “Is that… bacon?”

Vic chuckled. “Well, there goes one part of my surprise. Why is it you can never hide the smell of bacon?”

Rob snickered. “Because it always smells fantastic?”

“Now that you mention it….” Vic turned, a plate of golden-brown french toast in his hand. “This is the first course. The rest is warming in the oven, apart from the eggs. I draw the line at rubbery eggs.” He placed the dish in the center of the table, then added a couple of empty plates.

Rob shuddered. “In our house that was the only way eggs arrived at the table. I swear, once I dropped a forkful and they bounced.”

Vic guffawed. “Who cooked, your mum or your dad?”

Just the thought of his dad cooking made Rob chuckle. “I don’t think Dad even knew where the stove was,” he joked. It was an exaggeration, but most of his memories of his dad involved an armchair, a newspaper, and a pair of slippers.

And not much in the way of conversation.

That last recollection tightened his chest.

“Are you okay?”

Rob jerked his head up. Vic was standing beside him, his gaze focused on Rob, his brow creased. Vic’s hand rested on the back of Rob’s chair.