Chapter Twenty-One #2
After a slightly tense conversation with a man at the gatehouse of the private community, Jackson finally brought the car to a stop in front of one of the biggest, fanciest houses I had ever seen in my life.
It was bigger than many of the hotels I’d stayed in.
The house was a pale sage green with white trim and three storeys high with porches that wrapped all the way around on all three floors.
Manicured lawns rolled out on all sides and a variety of intentionally planted trees, palmettos, oaks, ash, attempted and failed to hide the mansion from public view.
‘This is your friend’s idea of a holiday home?’ Wyn let go of my hand, his eyes opening wide. ‘Where do they spend the rest of the year, Buckingham Palace?’
‘I don’t know why they don’t sell it,’ Lydia replied, leaning forward to scrabble under the seat for her flipflops. ‘Old Stovell is so afraid of missing a moment of Savannah gossip, I bet she hasn’t been out here in a decade.’
‘Ms Stovell?’ I grabbed onto the back of her seat as Wyn and Jackson both climbed out the car. ‘Ileen Stovell?’
She snorted. ‘Classic. You don’t know the names of your neighbours but you know Ileen Stovell. Don’t tell me she’s already come calling?’
‘We met at the dance. According to her, she’s one of Catherine’s best friends, but my grandmother never mentioned her as far as I can remember.’
‘According to her.’ Lydia opened her door and tutted. ‘I can’t think of anybody in this town clamouring to hang out with that old busybody. Last time she came around to our place, Virginia paid me twenty bucks to say she was out but she kept me talking for so long, I raised my rate to fifty.’
‘But you’re totally OK staying at her house for free.’
‘It’s a tradition,’ Lydia replied. ‘Our families go way back. The Stovells would be offended if we didn’t come stay.’
The sun was still shining but there was the sweetest breeze, blowing the scent of saltwater in my direction.
We’d crossed over the Savannah River almost as soon as we left the city but I could tell we were closer to the ocean now.
My magic prickled, putting me on high alert, and as soon as I was out the car, I found myself pressing two palms against the trunk of a palmetto tree just to ground myself.
Everyone here knew about my magic, no one here needed to worry about it while we were away.
‘You could fit my entire family in here,’ Wyn said with a whistle, cupping a hand over his eyes to take in the sheer size of the Stovell mansion. ‘Is there a servant’s entrance I can use?’
Jackson opened the trunk of his car and began unloading bags, piling them on the circular driveway.
‘If this kind of thing makes you uncomfortable you’re rolling with the wrong crowd,’ he said offhandedly.
‘Emily has to be ten times wealthier than the Stovells, right, Em? Everyone knows the Bells are one of the wealthiest families in Georgia.’
‘I haven’t really thought about it,’ I admitted, immediately uncomfortable. Both of my parents came from money but I’d grown up with only the bare essentials.
‘It isn’t polite to talk about money,’ Lydia chastised her brother, revealing her rarely demonstrated southern training. ‘Don’t make Em uncomfortable.’
‘I assumed we all knew. Never occurred to me to think twice about it.’
‘And that’s how we know you have money too,’ Wyn said with a laugh. ‘No worries, I’m sure I’ll find a way to earn my keep.’
Jackson heaved his bag from the car, his eyes obscured by designer sunglasses. ‘It doesn’t make you uncomfortable?’ he asked. ‘Knowing your girlfriend is a thousand times wealthier than you’ll ever be?’
‘Jackson!’ Lydia admonished again. ‘What is wrong with you?’
‘If it doesn’t bother Em, it doesn’t bother me,’ Wyn replied, picking up my backpack, his duffle and Lydia’s suitcase with ease. ‘I might not have as much money as her, but I have plenty else to offer.’
‘What a man,’ Lydia said with a dramatic sigh, pressing her hands to her heart. ‘Also, gross. Now who’s ready for the tour? This house is epic, it has everything. You practically need a map.’
Bags on the ground at his feet, Wyn threw an easy arm around my shoulder.
‘Only if it’s OK with Jackson. I’m more than happy to sleep in the garage.’
‘Just messing with you, pal,’ Jackson laughed and shot an amiable punch at his arm, only the slightest hint of a grimace showing on his face when he landed it on Wyn’s rock-solid bicep.
‘Ugh, testosterone,’ Lydia said, grabbing the handle of her suitcase then my hand and dragging me away up the garden path. ‘You really can’t take guys anywhere.’
‘Maybe a girls’ trip would’ve been a better idea,’ I agreed, leaving the two of them out by the car.
‘The great room is that way, there’s a home theatre and a gym in the basement, dining room, breakfast room, and allegedly there’s a study somewhere but I’ve never seen it.’
Lydia’s tour wasn’t quite as comprehensive as advertised. The moment we walked through the frosted glass double front doors, she began stripping off her clothes until she was down to her bikini.
‘Kitchen is through there, help yourself to everything.’
The airy entrance hall opened into a double-height foyer, everything sparkling and clean, except for one pair of muddy sneakers tucked away in the corner.
‘I thought you said no one was staying here,’ I asked, the sight of the shoes jarring against so much grandeur.
She followed my eyes and shrugged.
‘Maybe the gardener came in to use the restroom and forgot about them?’
‘And drove home in bare feet?’
‘How would I know!’ she exclaimed, kicking her sweatpants across the room. ‘They probably had other people staying here, the Stovells know just about everyone this side of the Mississippi.’
Wyn walked through the door and I shook off a shudder, the same I’d experienced each time I’d met Ms Stovell. That woman had really got under my skin.
‘The two primary suites are down here too but we always leave those for my mom and grandmother,’ Lydia declared, then gestured towards a dramatic staircase.
‘The rest of the bedrooms are upstairs. Mine is the furthest on the left, the rest are up for grabs so y’all run on up there and take your pick. ’
I hung back with Wyn by my side, still carrying all the bags.
‘And how many bedrooms are there exactly?’
‘I don’t think I ever counted them all. Six? Seven? Maybe eight, I don’t know.’
She looked back at us, registering the tiniest hint of panic in my eyes and clear discomfort in Wyn’s.
‘Ohhh.’ She laughed, delighting in the awkward moment. ‘Don’t sweat it. There are more than enough rooms to go around, sharing is optional. I’ll let y’all work that out for yourselves.’
With that, she sprinted up the stairs, leaving us to follow slowly behind.
Did I want to share a room? Did he? If he suggested it and I said no, surely his feelings would be hurt.
But what if I suggested it and he said no?
With each silent step up the staircase, I wished I’d had more time to think.
I’d slowed down time to make better decisions before but seemingly the blessing didn’t think this would be a good use of my magic.
Which only went to prove the blessing wasn’t always right.
‘You want to take a look at this one?’
Wyn stopped in front of the first door on the second floor.
‘Sure.’
When it came to the blessing, I had to trust my instincts.
A witch shouldn’t second-guess herself or try to force her magic, only feel what was right and go with it.
But in that moment, my instincts were a maelstrom, my wants, my desires and my fears all fighting with each other, each of them shouting louder than the last. Everything was swirling so fast, I couldn’t manage to get a grip on one particular feeling.
‘Nice room,’ Wyn said, placing my backpack down on the bench at the bottom of an enormous bed, dominated by throw pillows. ‘Real nice.’
It was nice. Huge and nice. My brain was too busy trying to process every emotion I had ever experienced to think beyond that.
‘Wow, ocean view.’
The ocean.
Sure enough, right outside the windows, the Atlantic Ocean glittered like a sea of sapphires under an aquamarine sky.
‘No wonder I can’t think straight,’ I murmured under my breath, drawn across the room to open the huge French doors onto my very own private terrace.
The sea air hit me like a full bottle of tequila.
Not that I’d ever drunk a full bottle of tequila but I had to imagine it would feel something like this: light-headed, my thoughts fuzzy, barely able to tell up from down.
I backed inside quickly, closing the doors before Wyn could join me.
‘Everything OK?’ he asked. ‘You look kind of pale.’
‘I didn’t realize how close we would be to the ocean,’ I replied, feeling foolish. I could’ve asked. I could’ve looked at a map. This was entirely my own fault.
‘And that’s bad because …?’
‘The tides don’t play well with my magic,’ I said. ‘Everything feels a little mixed up.’
He raised his eyebrows and nodded, logging the new information, and for a moment I panicked, the Weres might not know witches were weaker around an ocean.
‘If you don’t want to stay, we can go back,’ he offered, reaching for his phone. ‘I’ll call an Uber, we’ll leave right now.’
A rush of shame replaced my worries. This was Wyn. This was about me and him, not a witch and a wolf. I trusted him with my life. Standing there with his messy hair, T-shirt half tucked into the back of his jeans where he’d got dressed in a hurry, just looking at him grounded me.
‘We can stay,’ I said, steady enough to walk back towards him and place my hands on his hips. ‘I want to stay. With you.’
‘Any time you change your mind, you say the word and we’re out of here,’ he replied, and I pushed up onto my tiptoes to meet his lips, already clearer and more focused. He’d definitely got taller in the last month. I had to crane my head back to look up at him.
‘I’ll take the room next door,’ Wyn suggested. ‘All you have to do is holler and I’ll come running.’
Just like that, he made the decision for both of us.
He leaned down to kiss me again then pulled away, taking my breath with him.
He was being a gentleman, I was sure of it.
If I asked him to stay, he would stay. If told him I wanted him in my room, in my bed.
If I asked him. Raising my arms to encircle his neck, I opened my mouth, not sure what I was about to say, when the door opened wide.
‘Shit, sorry. Didn’t know y’all were in here.’
Jackson took one step inside before turning his head away but not before I caught the look on his face and every word he’d said in the parlour of Bell House rushed back to me. Was it really only two days ago? It felt like years had passed since then.
‘You’re too late,’ Wyn said easily, stroking my face before walking over to the door and clapping an ashen-faced Jackson on the back. ‘Em already called this one.’
‘Unless you want it,’ I said quickly. ‘I don’t really care.’
‘It’s all good,’ he replied, the muscle in his jaw twitching.
With one hand still on Jackson’s back, Wyn gently but firmly pushed him out of my room.
‘I’ll be next door,’ he said. ‘Remember, holler if you need me.’
With a tense nod, I let him close the door, the two of them leaving side by side, and me, all alone.