Chapter 10
Jaxon brought his shoulders to his ears and bent his knees against the wind.
McKenna huddled at his side. If it weren’t for her insistence, he’d have rushed them both back to her cabin.
As it stood, they waited in the freezing cold while Trevor rummaged in the back of his truck.
Jaxon’s knuckles ached to hit the moron in the face again.
He burrowed his hand deep in his pocket, met McKenna’s frozen stare, and jerked his head toward the house.
She nodded and leaned toward Trevor’s hunched form. “Well, thanks anyway, but—”
“Ah, here it is.” He pulled out a small bag. “Your favorite vegan, gluten-free bread. I even had them get the all-natural peanut butter for you.”
McKenna’s weak, shaky smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks, Trevor. That was . . . thoughtful.”
“You folks stay warm.” He nodded, shut the tailgate, and climbed into the driver’s seat.
Jaxon weaved his arm around her shoulders.
The headlights sliced through the darkness, sending the gnarly shadows of tree branches across the snow.
They looked like long, angry fingernails.
He pulled McKenna closer to his side. Scanning the yard, he tightened his hold on the gun.
McKenna walked easily in the snow next to him, while his legs sunk with every step.
His clothes would forever carry the scent of piney, wet snow. And his mind would forever carry the scent of roses and lavender.
“So, he got your favorite bread and peanut butter?”
McKenna nodded and climbed the steps. When she reached the door, she turned the handle and bumped the door open with her hip, a move that was becoming as familiar as her smile. “Yeah. That was a little odd. I mean, I bump into him often at the market, but . . .”
He followed her inside. He was grateful to be out of the wind, but the cabin wasn’t very warm. “So you never told him those were your favorites?”
She peeled off her coat. Strain tightened her lips. “No.” As she took off her snowshoes and boots, he made his way to the fireplace.
McKenna illuminated his way with the flashlight. “I’d better get some candles lit. Oh my god!” McKenna’s sharp screech made him wheel around.
“What?”
She charged across the cabin—to the open back door. She slammed the door shut then held her hands on the old wood, her shoulders heaving.
Unease prickled his skin. He crossed the room to the front door and picked up the gun again. The snapping of a deadbolt locking reached his ears. McKenna turned to face him as he approached.
He caught her chin in his grip. She clung to the flashlight in front of her chest. Its white light warmed his face and cast shadows over the ceiling. Her lips trembled and her gaze darted away from his to search the room.
Fuck he hated seeing fear twist her features. “Stay here.” His voice came out rough, menacing. If he caught the sonofabitch inside, he’d tear him to pieces.
The beam of light bouncing ahead of him told him McKenna hadn’t stayed put.
But he needed the light. He had to catch the lowlife before he escaped out the window—if he was still around.
He turned and strutted toward the bedroom, holding the weapon in front of him.
McKenna’s bedroom door hung open a few inches.
He booted it open the rest of the way. The wood bounced off the hinges.
The stream of light shone from beneath his elbow to cast the room in its glow. The bed with a pile of rumpled covers on top took up the left wall. The dresser stood adjacent to the bed, and a bookcase was next to the closet. The window ate up the center of the wall beyond the end of the bed.
Nothing else lingered in the shadows. He snagged the flashlight from her, kept the gun propped under his arm, and cleared every corner of the room. He went to the closet next. Empty.
He exited the bedroom and searched the laundry room, closet, and bathroom. McKenna waited in the hall. He caught her face in the light and lowered the flashlight’s beam to their feet so he didn’t blind her. “Bastard is long gone.”
Some of the tension ebbed from his body and doubt wormed through his mind. Hell, maybe they had cabin fever. After the mountain lion had attacked him, he’d taken paranoia to a new level. “Maybe the back door blew open.”
Her throat bobbed on a swallow and a shadow crossed her face. “No. I locked the door—I’m sure of it.” A beat passed. “Someone was here. I can feel it.” She lifted her fingers to the crystal that lay between her breasts. “I can feel him.”
“If you locked the door then he picked it. Whoever it is has to be someone with the correct tools to unlock a deadbolt.”
“He’s been planning this . . .”
He pulled her to his chest, and her face nestled against his sternum. Rubbing his fingers through the silky strands at the back of her head, he kissed her temple.
He’d find the bastard if it killed him.
* * *
McKenna’s hand shook as she lit the seventh candle, sending a flicker of light over the wall.
She had to get her shit together. Had to push away the fear that scampered up her throat.
If she fell apart, she’d be of no use to anyone, let alone Jaxon.
She swept her gaze to the wall of his back as he worked at building the fire.
He’d stripped out of his pants again—she really needed to find her grandpa’s old pair of snowshoes for him to borrow—and only the long-sleeved shirt and briefs covered his body.
With the heat from the fire, it wouldn’t take long for his pants to dry.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Did you notice anything?” Jaxon’s sharp question brought her attention to his face.
Slowly, she shook her head. She’d taken the flashlight from Jaxon and scoured every inch of the cabin in search of anything that could be missing.
Everything was in place, not so much as a dust bunny overturned.
And that was more unnerving than being robbed.
The intruder hadn’t entered in search of something.
He’d known she was outside, that defenses were down, and he’d entered her cabin—her home—to scare her. And he’d achieved his goal.
He wanted her to know that he could reach her if he wanted.
Jaxon nodded and stood to his full height. The lurker would have to be stupid to try to enter with Jaxon around.
A frenzy of nerves kicked up her pulse, and she turned to the kitchen. Sitting idle wasn’t something she could do. She had to make use of her hands to ease the fight-or-flight mode her body had been operating in since the eerie shit started happening. She moved to the kitchen.
“Hungry?” She turned to face Jaxon, and he strode toward her.
The muscles in his thighs activated with every step.
His hands hung in loose fists at his sides.
Her abdomen clenched as her attention lingered on his briefs.
She snapped her gaze to his half smile. The urge to go to him, to seek comfort in the asylum of his arms, was so great she almost catapulted herself at his chest.
She was getting too caught up. Too ensnared.
Just because she liked Jaxon more and more by the minute didn’t mean she should let go of reality.
When things went back to normal, how would everything pan out between them?
At this point, she wasn’t at all opposed to a relationship, or seeing where things went beyond the bedroom, but oh, the town scrutiny.
She hated being watched and mocked, especially by the clients who sought her help one day then talked smack the next.
And if one more person accused her of putting a man under a spell, she’d go apeshit.
Jaxon stopped a few inches away. His proximity beat across the short distance in waves, and the scent of woods and musk hit her face. She curled her toes into the smooth wood at her feet. Clearing her throat, she opened the fridge and shone the flashlight inside.
“How does a hummus sandwich sound? Sorry, no meat.” She flashed him a smile.
He rested his arm on the fridge and glanced inside. Humor laced his lips. The dimple in his chin deepened. “Hummus sandwich? Sure.”
“I’ve got walnut taco meat too, if you need something heartier.”
His smirk became a full-fledged grin. Her stomach flipped over. God, he had a nice smile. One she could stare at all day, fall asleep to every night, and kiss every morning.
“Now that I have to try.”
She chuckled, passed him the flashlight, and pulled the fixings out of the fridge. Moving to the table, she set out hummus, walnut taco meat, mayo, microgreens, and chopped-up avocado, tomato, and onions.
Jaxon pulled out a chair as she peeled four slices of bread from the loaf. With him holding the flashlight over the table, she laid the layers of their dinner. She passed Jaxon a plate then took the seat next to him and lifted her sandwich.
As Jaxon dug in, a shimmy of uncertainty hit her.
She was being ridiculous. He was a guest in her house and if he didn’t like what she had to eat, too bad.
But some part, deep inside, wanted to please him.
It was gratifying to satisfy another human’s hunger.
She’d always loved to entertain. Sharing a meal was the one thing she missed about living close to Livy in the city, and one thing she, Desiree, and Josie did often—but they rarely ventured outside their tight circle, wanting to avoid judgment from the already hesitant townspeople.
“Holy shit,” he said. He took another bite, and his eyes closed for a beat as he chewed. “That’s good. How the hell did you get the walnuts to taste like that?”
She chuckled, but amusement settled the bubbling in her stomach. She took her first bite. The creamy avocado mixed with the flavors of the walnut meat and the homemade garlicy mayo erupted on her tongue.
She wiped her mouth on a napkin. “Lots of spices.”
He chomped through the sandwich as though it were no more than a stack of crackers. “Can I make another one?”
She grinned. “Go for it. This stuff is just going to go bad if it doesn’t get eaten. I think we got to the fridge at the right time.”
“I’m curious,” he began, as he piled the toppings on a slice of bread. “You’re different from everyone here. Do you ever feel left out?”
She took another bite and shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I’m happy here. There’s nowhere else I’d rather live. And if the people of Whistlemore knew more about the witches in their backcountry, they’d probably be a lot less uncertain of me.”
Interest sparked in his eyes. “Oh yeah?”
She lifted a shoulder. “There’s more of us than you think.”
“Who?”
“Well there’s Desiree and Josie. You probably know them.”
Jaxon nodded and grinned. “Ah, yes. Desiree owns Raven’s Nest, right? That little shop on Main Street?”
“Yup. Although she’s a bit bolder with her interests. She sells the most beautiful items. Tarot cards, crystals, candles, you name it.”
“Sounds intriguing. I’ve heard about Josie Ryan, too. Didn’t she just lose her spouse?”
Sadness closed in around McKenna and she nodded. “Yeah, Liam. He worked for Whistlemore Logging and the accident happened while he was on a job.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” He stretched his fingers out to catch the pendant around her neck. “Josie makes these right?”
McKenna smiled down at the copper-wrapped amethyst. “Yeah, she gave me this one for my birthday, but I bought these off her.” She lifted her wrist, dangling the bracelets.
“What do they do?”
“Well, the black stones are orgonite,” she said, turning her arm to show him the ones on her bracelet. “They block EMFs caused by radiation, cell phones, and Wi-Fi. They also protect against negative energy.”
“And the pink ones?”
“Those help me clear my mind, stay grounded, and focus on my practices.”
“What other things do you witches do?”
She gave him a sly smile. “I can’t tell you that.”
“C’mon. Tell me all your secrets.” The mischief in his voice sparked a fire inside her. He took another bite, nearly swallowing half of the sandwich. Her belly tightened and she watched, transfixed, as his tongue swiped up some hummus from the corner of his mouth.
Electricity buzzed along her skin. She’d never ached for a man like she did for Jaxon.
From the moment he’d shown up on her porch, she’d been intoxicated by him.
Well, if she was going to be completely honest with herself, her attraction to him had begun the day he sidled up to her booth and bought three bottles of her kombucha.
She finished the last bite of her sandwich and busied herself putting the food away, even though it would likely rot in the fridge overnight. Too bad storing anything on the porch would attract wildlife.
“Please.” Jaxon’s gentle word brought her back to the present and the last question he’d asked her.
She propped her hand on her hip. “If you expect me to tell you I have a stash of voodoo dolls and that we resurrect the dead and torment people’s dreams, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”
He settled his arm on the back of the chair, facing her. “I know you’d never hurt anyone. I want to know what interests you. If you trust me enough to tell me, I’ve got nothing but time.”
Her insides fizzled at his words. She couldn’t get too attached to Jaxon’s words, but damn her heart that swelled at his focus.
. . as if she were the only person in the world.
“The idea behind the witchery I practice is self-healing and protection. Josie, Dez and I hold midnight gatherings during full moons. We set our intentions, put out positive energy, and recharge. We do things like burn sage to clear negative energy, burn bay leaves to reduce anxiety, and set up crystals and charge them in the moonlight.” She shrugged.
“That’s about it. It’s something we take comfort in.
It brings us peace and helps us feel connected to ourselves. There’s nothing sinister about it.”
His gaze sparked with appreciation. “That sounds really powerful.”
Delight spread through her with the blast of a solar flare. She wasn’t used to telling people about her gatherings. She’d always anticipated that the information would be met with disdain and a whole lot of misunderstanding and misconceptions.
“It is,” she said. “It offers me a lot of space for emotions and introspection. It helps me keep myself in contentment.”
He caught her fingers. She drifted closer and he kissed her palm. “You’re an amazing woman, McKenna. I feel like I’m only scratching the surface of all the interesting things about you.”
He turned his head and coughed. She rubbed her hand over the top of his shoulder. “I never got to cup your back. Your cough sounds much better, but it might be a good idea to clear some of that out.”
He lifted one side of his mouth. “I can’t wait to try it.”