Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Leaping up onto a weathered oak barrel outside my bedroom, I pushed my way through a hole in the screen to shimmy into my cottage through the open window.
My feline body bent and curled to squeeze through the small space gracefully. Carefully stepping across my desk, I hopped down onto the seat of my swivel chair. The landing of my weight prompted it to spin a half rotation before I leapt off.
Once all four of my paws were on the aged wooden floor, I shifted back into my human state.
Everything in the modest bedroom was precisely how I had left it. The walls of my bedroom were a dusty shade of purple with hues of grey mixed in. They complimented the darker purple bedding on my queen-sized bed, which was just barely made with pillows haphazardly scattered across it.
Underneath the bed, shoes were tucked away, except for a pair of slippers. The fuzzy slip-ons with an embroidered cat face on them had been last year’s Christmas present from Beth, kicked off in haste this morning.
The laundry basket next to the window was full of clean clothes I hadn’t folded in a week, and the accordion closet doors were popped open ever so slightly.
My bedroom was what I liked to call organized chaos. Everything had a space, and it all made sense in my brain, just no one else’s. The desk had multiple piles: invoices, research, office supplies, and that one corner that I refused to acknowledge existed.
However, there was one area of my bedroom that was my pride and joy.
It was the bookshelf in the corner, and it was probably the most put-together thing in the small space.
Each of my favorite books were in pristine condition, each shelf spotless of dust, and just enough spacing to allow airflow and prevent mold.
Not to mention, I had specifically placed the bookshelf in a corner where it wouldn’t sit in direct sunlight to avoid any fading.
I exhaled a breath of relief, my hands brushing off my sweater out of habit.
There always seemed to be an invisible, supernatural film that clung to everything after shifting back.
Something akin to lotion that was too tacky on your skin, too much humidity clinging to fabric, or that feeling of not having washed all the shampoo out of your hair.
Basically, I felt gross.
Immediately, I shed all my clothes and headed into my claustrophobic bathroom.
Inside, the counter around my tiny sink was covered in skincare, makeup, hair products, and far too many elastic hair ties.
Storage was created wherever I could find it.
Shelves on the wall, hooks on the back of the door, and creative little rolling carts that I usually tripped over at least three times in the morning.
The shower and antique clawfoot tub were combined into a single unit.
I drew the curtain around the white porcelain, and as I waited for the water to heat up, I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
The green of my eyes swirled with an iridescence that only I seemed to notice.
Just beyond the lens, it was like I could almost see the shadow of the cat inside my soul.
And after my encounter with Corbin? She paced anxiously.
It took nothing shy of half a lifetime for the water to get reasonably warm. But once it did, I stepped under the near-scalding stream. The water raining down over me generated a purr that vibrated deep in my throat.
As I stood there, I closed my eyes and tipped my head back. My long black locks soaked up every blissful drop. While I scrubbed away the sensation of the film that I had dubbed ‘shifter sludge,’ my thoughts began to drift.
“You’re everything that this town needs and everything I will ever want.”
Corbin’s words echoed inside my mind. He had been so sure. So confident. As though there were no other reality where I wasn’t the sole focus.
My hand clenched around the purple loofah, suds expelling from it over the side of my neck. The trail of bubbles slid down over my body. Swallowing hard past the memory of his voice so close to my skin, my eyes fluttered closed.
The sensation of soap gliding over my skin sparked my imagination. It quickly became the fantasy of Corbin’s hand instead. Fingers skated over the swell of my breasts, teased the ridges of my ribs before they ventured further south.
Imagery and sensation melted together in my mind and felt all too real. Unnervingly so. The desire curled around something low in my core, heating it into a fierce ache.
“Fuck,” the curse came out as a breathless whisper that got lost in the sound of water cascading around me.
Yet my hand was undeterred, driven by the way my pulse kept skyrocketing at the increased need. Both my hands slid down my body, drifting lower and lower until…
Bang-bang-bang!
I dropped the loofah. The resulting splat on the bottom of the tub got drowned out by blood roaring in my ears as a fiery flush crept onto my cheeks.
“Harlow!” Beth’s muffled shout on the other side of the bathroom door broke through the charged spell of the moment.
Now my heart rate was racing for a whole other reason. Why couldn’t little sisters understand what the hell boundaries and privacy meant?
My response came out sharper than intended, maybe even defensive. “What?!”
“Mom wants to know if you’re sticking around for dinner before going to the festival tonight.”
I rolled my eyes, quickly rinsing all the suds off me before turning off the water with a sharp twist of the knob. Yanking the curtain to the side, the rings screeched against the metal shower rod.
Snatching my towel from the hook on the wall, I began quickly drying myself off before securing it around my figure.
When I jerked open the door to the bathroom, Beth was scrolling through her phone. I peered out through the narrow space. “What’s she cooking?”
Beth didn’t bother looking up from the screen in her palm. “Sources suggest stuffed peppers. She has Nana’s old cookbook out, the one you rebound and recovered for her.”
Definitely stuffed peppers for dinner. I had spent countless hours working on restoring a cookbook that looked like it had been through a flood.
Yet, my mom only used it for one goddamn recipe.
All my restorative efforts were for two pages out of over six hundred.
Two pages that got used once or twice a year before the book got shoved into the back of a cabinet somewhere.
“Tell her I will be there to help cook in a few.”
Finally looking up at me, Beth tucked her phone into her back pocket. “Did you remember the apples?”
Damn it.
I grimaced, and an apologetic look washed over my face.
Before my sister could pair her unamused look with a dramatic sigh, I quickly responded. “I’ll grab some at the festival tonight. Okay? It completely slipped my mind earlier.”
“Whatever. If we get cursed by some ancient spirit because you forgot the apples to put on the doorstep at night, I’m totally throwing you into the sacrificial pit of doom.
” She shrugged like it wouldn’t bother her in the least. We both knew better; neither of us would survive without the other in this world.
Laughing, I eased open the door a little wider. “Noted,” I said, not bothering to hide the amusement from my voice.
I leaned forward and lowered my voice conspiratorially. “But let’s be real, Beth. You’d miss my four-legged adventures. Besides, who else would sneak around, listening in on conversations to see if a boy likes you or not?”
From the way she wrinkled up her nose, I had her caught in that kernel of truth, and she didn’t want to admit out loud that I was right.
She pointed a finger at me, a grin begging to let loose at the corners of her mouth. “Fine, maybe I’d be slightly bored without you. Still doesn’t mean that I won’t hesitate to send any creepy corn monsters your way if we get haunted.”
Beth backed away, heading towards my bedroom door. “I’ll let Mom know you’ll be over to help in a few.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Beth. You’re the best.” Sincerely, she was. The best pain in the ass kid sister a girl could ask for. Even when she interrupted my intimate showers where all I wanted was a little self-love.
After she left to head back to the main house, I quickly changed into a pair of old sweats and a tee.
By the time I trekked from the cottage to the main residence, my mom was already in full cyclone mode. Dishes were everywhere, ingredients scattered across the counter, and she was fiddling with the buttons on the stove.
I picked up a gutted pepper, inspecting my mom’s ruthless handiwork.
“Beth said you were making stuffed peppers.”
My mom spun around, only now noticing my presence in the old farmhouse-style kitchen.
“Oh, Harlow, yes. Can you grab the meat out of the fridge?”
Working in tandem, my mother and I prepared dinner. The comfortable silence of us being in the kitchen together was familiar and welcome. There were many faults I could assign her, but forcing conversation where none was required wasn’t one of them.
Once the stuffed peppers were out of the oven and the entire family was seated at the round kitchen table, my dad cleared his throat.
I knew that sound all too well. He was either about to remind us about one of the steps of his life coaching program, or he was about to awkwardly pry where he shouldn’t. Ultimately, I wasn’t sure which one I preferred.
His fork hovered over his plate as he met my gaze. Not my mom’s. Not Beth’s. Mine.
I braced myself while Beth looked relieved, and my mom continued sending emails one-handedly from her phone and eating with the other.
“Say, Harlow, I got to meet a lot of interesting people in town today.”
“Oh?” Feigning interest, I raised both of my brows.
He nodded and cut another piece of pepper.
“The Town Council has been very welcoming. In fact, they introduced me to a few fellas. Now, I know we’ve discussed at length how finding your S.P.A.R.K.L.E.
is critical as we all adjust to this move.
Your mother and I appreciate that you moved out here to stick close to the family and help out, but everybody needs to find that special someone to elevate themselves to the next level. ”
A groan slipped out of me, earning me a kick to my shin from Beth, who was seated next to me. I retaliated with a murderous look and a kick right back at her shin.
Then, I put on my best expression of understanding of where my dad was going with this.
“Look, Dad, I’ve already met Bale and Corbin—”
“Bale and Corbin?” His tone said it all. He hadn’t been talking about them.
Shit.
Beth looked at me and mouthed their names in confusion. I’d have to fill her in later.
“Oh goodness me, no!” My dad laughed while wiping his mouth with a crumpled-up napkin in his hand.
“I meant Mayor Dennison’s twin boys, Chadwick and Malcolm.
Now, those two young men naturally give off S.P.A.R.K.L.E.
energy. Did you know the two of them oversee every real estate transaction and property development project in town?
They’re incredibly driven and successful individuals. ”
He then leaned over with a cheesy grin, ready to reveal the punchline of this joke of a conversation. “From what I’ve heard, they’re both considered the town’s most eligible bachelors. Maybe you ought to talk to one of them tonight at the festival, huh?”
I blinked slowly, trying to digest the fact that my dad sat here trying to play matchmaker.
Both Chad and Malcolm had been some of the first occupants of Falston I had met. Within hours of arriving in Falston, Malcolm tried to mansplain pumping gas to me, and his brother argued that William Shakespeare was the world’s first rapper.
Besides the sheer pompous ignorance, both of them gave me the goddamn creeps. It wasn’t anything particularly malevolent, but I kept getting a vibe that was more unpleasant than a stranger’s wet sneeze on the back of your neck.
The Dennison twins could S.P.A.R.K.L.E. themselves right the fuck out of this town and stay the hell away from my love life.