Epilogue
“What the hell is that?”
The sound of Jaxon’s grumbling from the front door brought a smile to McKenna’s lips.
“McKenna.” Panic followed. “There’s smoke—”
He stopped dead in his tracks at the threshold of the living room.
McKenna grinned. “Hey, honey, just us.”
Josie walked around the room in a circle. A brass singing bowl sat in the palm of her hand, and she was striking it and circling the edge with a wooden mallet. Its ringing music sang off the walls. Jaxon’s eyes widened on Josie before he jerked his gaze to McKenna.
She fought back a laugh, not wanting to disturb Josie’s concentration. She signaled to Jaxon to meet her in the kitchen. The sage’s smoke was dissipating, so she set the bundle in the steel bowl to finish burning.
“Did I interrupt your gathering?” He crossed his arms over his chest and sent a wary eye toward Josie.
“No,” she said, shrugging. “Ever since what happened during the storm, the house has just felt . . . strange. Did you feel it?”
He scratched his head. “Uh, well. It’s been hard to shake those events.”
Her eyes widened. “Yes, exactly. We’re constantly thinking about it and circulating that energy. This will clear it,” she said, lifting the sage and then nodding at Josie.
“Well, I knew about smudging. You did it a couple days after the attack. But what’s with the bowl?”
The ringing stopped, and Josie sauntered into the room.
Her light brown hair was piled high on her head in a bun.
“The energy in here was oppressive. How did you live with that angry spirit lurking around? Ugh.” She shuddered.
“Not to mention the pungent scent of fear.” She lifted her shoulders and winced.
Josie was nothing if not candid. “Sorry, I mean, it smells good.” She looked at Jaxon.
“I sure didn’t mean you stunk up the place or anything, but it feels good in here now.
” She waved her hand as if wafting the scent of warm apple pie to her nose.
Jaxon, bless his soul, inhaled deeply. “It smells clear. Honestly. I hadn’t noticed the energy clinging to me until now.”
Josie perked up. “Good. You’re welcome. That’ll be two seventy-five.”
“You’re shitting me.”
Josie lifted her nose. “Absolutely not. Clean energy comes at a high price.”
Jaxon sputtered. McKenna rested her hand on his chest. Josie’s dry humor was hard to read—even for her sometimes. He’d been around Josie only a handful of times in the two months since he and McKenna started dating. Watching him get to know her would be entertaining as hell.
“She’s kidding.”
Josie rolled her eyes. “He would’ve coughed up the cash.” She tucked the bowl under her arm and made a beeline for the door. “Full moon’s next weekend. Don’t forget.”
McKenna waved as Josie let herself out.
“I don’t think she likes me.” Jaxon’s tone held a hint of amusement.
McKenna grimaced. Explaining Josie was more complicated than trigonometry. “She likes you, believe me. If she didn’t . . . you’d know it. Josie is hard to get used to, but I promise, she’s the most loyal friend and she’s bragged a few times on my behalf about the ‘hot piece of ass’ I’m banging.”
His eyebrows inched up, but smugness settled on his forehead. “That so?”
“I’m afraid those were her exact words.” She placed her hands on her hips. “You’re home early. What’s up?”
A sheepish grin slid across his face. Her tummy worked into knots. Sometimes, she hated her intuition.
He laced his fingers with hers. “I’ve got the weekend off and I wondered if you’d like to take a trip.”
“A trip? Where?” Her nerves fluttered. She’d never been outside Colorado.
The grin turned downright sinful. “Do you want me to tell you or have it be a surprise?”
“Tell me now,” she said, without missing a beat. “I hate surprises.” Before she boiled over with excitement, she reigned herself in. If he planned to take her home to meet his parents, she might just panic.
“Key West. You and me. Four days. I know we already live in paradise, but I could use some heat before—”
She bounced on her toes and clapped her hands. “Yes! Ohmigod. I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“Good.” He swatted her butt. “Pack your stuff. We leave in an hour.”
She squealed and raced out of the room. Every day with him had been a dream.
She loved waking up with Jaxon, loved showering with him, loved having someone to talk to in the morning.
Most of all, she loved that he accepted her.
He never mocked her modalities, never scoffed at her friends, even when they did weird shit to alter the vibration of the cabin.
He cared.
She stopped at the threshold of the kitchen, turned back, and bit her lip.
His chest deflated. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. Indecision split her in two.
“McKenna, if it’s too soon—”
That hesitant, heavy statement sent her barreling across the room. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his face to hers. His scent, sandalwood and pine, invaded her. A smell she’d come to crave. A smell that had quickly become her home.
“I love you.” Her voice didn’t break as she’d feared it would. Hell, it didn’t carry even a hint of uncertainty.
A dark stain coated his cheeks, and the skin around his eyes crinkled. Happiness exploded from his wide smile.
“I love you, too.” He kissed her lips then pulled away. “Now get ready. The only item of clothing I want to see you in this weekend is a bikini.”
Her laugh bounced off the walls as she ran to her room to pack.
She could leave with empty bags and still have everything she needed.
Turn the page for an excerpt from Dead of Spring . . .