Not Your Ex's Hexes (Supernatural Singles, #2)(102)
“So you don’t have strong feelings for the good-looking vet?”
“It doesn’t matter if I’m in love with Damian. He won’t risk getting too deeply invested with anyone, and as much as I love him, I love myself more. I won’t settle for anything less than someone’s whole heart, and he’d never be able to give that to me.”
Edie’s mouth slid into a proud grin. “How did I become so lucky to have three such intelligent, strong-minded, and independent granddaughters?”
“Because we inherited it from our intelligent, strong-minded, and independent grandmother.” She squeezed Edie’s hand as realization dawned. “But you’re right. I am strong-minded. And independent. And determined. Just because I can’t have the man I want doesn’t mean I can’t have the life I want.”
The older woman’s eyes twinkled. “That sounds a lot like a plan is brewing…”
“It’s more than a plan.” For the first time in the few days since she’d walked out of the sanctuary and away from Damian, Rose knew exactly what she wanted. “I’m finishing what I started. I’m seeing this adoption fair through to the end, and if Damian Adams doesn’t like it, he can suck a flying broomstick. I’m not there for him. I’m doing it for the animals … and myself.”
“Let your Magic guide you and it’ll never steer you wrong.” Edie nodded, dishing out her favorite wise words.
“And when that’s done, I’m going to see a demon about an internship…”
Her gran looked a little confused now, but that was okay. Rose wasn’t … For the first time in months, she’d begun seeing everything a lot more clearly.
She wrapped her grandmother up in a hug that nearly picked the barely five-foot witch off the ground. “Thank you, Gran.”
“For what? All I did is listen, sweetheart. You did the rest.”
And with a renewed determination, Rose vowed to do even more. She didn’t need to work odd jobs. She didn’t need to go on some great search for a tailor-made hobby. And she sure as hell didn’t need to work for Callie Sanderson.
She could—and would—damn well work—and live—for herself.
* * *
It had been nonstop since Damian rolled his ass out of bed, exhausted and sleep-deprived, with a horrendous chest pain that made him think he was having a heart attack. Factor in a faulty fire alarm that wouldn’t shut up, a sanctuary full of skittish animals that didn’t realize it was a false alarm, three emergency drop-ins, the regular sanctuary upkeep, and a constant stream of phone calls all from vendors for the adoption fair with questions he couldn’t answer, and it had been the morning from hell.
If one more thing happened, his head would explode, and with the sternal pain that had grown to include a vise around his head, that could be quite literal.
“Damian!” Terrance burst through the office doors, wincing when he released a low warning growl. He dropped his voice. “Sorry, boss, but we’ve got a problem.”
“Is anyone dead?” Damian massaged his temples.
“Uh … no.”
“Is anyone in the process of dying?”
“Not that I’m aware of…”
“Then it can wait a minute.”
Terrance shifted on his feet nervously, his gaze skirting around the office. The kid obviously wasn’t leaving without talking to him.
He sighed, leaning back in his chair. The phone rang—yet again—and he ignored it, recognizing the number of the taco truck vendor he’d promised to call back with information on the fair. Information he still didn’t have. Stuff about permits and setups.
Nope, he wasn’t thinking about it right now. One crisis at a damn time.
“What’s wrong, Ter?” Damian finally asked, putting the kid out of his misery.
“I took the horses out for their field time, and then I came back for Jasper and thought I’d let him amble around the lower ring a bit … slowly get him back on his feet, you know?”
He waited a beat. “This doesn’t sound like a problem so far.”
Terrance gulped. “He jumped the fence and is now in the field with Butternut and Squash.”
That got Damian’s attention. He was on his feet, grabbing leads and hustling outside, the teen hot on his heels as they turned toward the front field. Sure enough, three horses stood in the pasture. Except Jasper wasn’t being aggressive, which is what they’d been concerned about and why they hadn’t yet introduced the horses.
The stallion looked damn near docile as he stood next to Butternut, both their heads bowed to the grass, nibbling on what greenery poked out from the ground. A few feet away, Squash rolled around on the ground in back-scratching bliss.
“I’ll be damned…” Chuckling, Miguel came to stand next to them at the fence. “I didn’t realize you were thinking about socializing them already.”
“I wasn’t. Evidently Jasper decided to socialize himself,” Damian said dryly.
Terrance grinned. “It was freaking amazing. I latched the lower gate, and then when Jasper heard a whinny from up here, his ears perked up and he took off like a bat out of hell. He leaped the fence as if it had been no higher than a fallen toothpick.”