Chapter 15
BLAIRE
There are worse ways to die than naked, in a secret room with a beautiful man, but I’d still rather not.
“Nobody knows this room exists,” I remind him, pacing the dark. “If we screamed, they’d never hear us. Shit.”
“Honestly happy you brought me to your dungeon. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
I crack a smile that he can’t see. “They’ll notice something is up when I don’t show up at the shop at ten. Then they’ll call Autumn and Jules. Then my parents. The sheriff. What if they start a search party?”
He places his hand on my shoulder and chuckles. “Let’s calm down and not get too ahead of ourselves.”
I shiver because it’s cold down here. “This isn’t funny.”
“Actually, it’s kinda hilarious, and one day, it will make for a great story among friends.” He clears his throat. “So, there was this one time a witch brought me to her lair, and we got trapped.”
“Hardy har har.” I roll my eyes, but it’s not like he can see it. I grab his hand and pull him up the stone steps. “Can you try the latch with your infinite strength?”
“Ah, think I have the magic touch?” he asks.
I guide his hand onto the latch. “Push in, then pull down.”
He reaches over me, infuriatingly calm, and does what I said.
It clicks, and the door glides open like it’s been waiting all morning for him.
Early morning sunshine pours down the steps. We stare at the open door, then at each other, and he grins.
“Don’t,” I warn.
He wiggles his fingers. “Magic touch.”
I lift a brow. “Actually, kinda agree with that.”
Jamie takes a step forward, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me. “We survived.”
“For now,” I tell him, wrapping the robe tighter around my body.
He grabs his belt and clothes, then properly redresses. I tiptoe into the library, and the clock says ten minutes past eight. Water rushes upstairs through the old pipes, which means someone is in the shower.
“Stay here,” I whisper, planting a hand in the middle of his chest. “Do not move. Do not touch anything. If someone comes in, act like a ghost.”
“And haunt them?”
“Be invisible.”
I slip out of the library and move down the hall. Charlie is at the end, sitting, like he’s been expecting us. He looks at me. He looks past me, at the library doors. Then he opens his mouth and lets out the loudest meow of his nine lives.
“Traitor,” I whisper.
Scooping him up mid-second-meow, I carry him with me like a furry alarm. I move into the kitchen, holding him tight.
Josie is at the counter in her pajamas, hair in a bun, scrolling her phone with a coffee in one hand. Three feet behind her, draped over the chair, is Jamie’s jacket. Black and expensive.
“Morning,” she says without looking up. “How’d you sleep?”
“Great. What about you?” There was hardly any sleeping last night.
I kiss Charlie on his head and set him down. He takes off running back down the hallway, meowing.
“What’s his deal today?” she asks.
“He’s in a mood,” I tell her, pouring myself a cup of coffee, trying to act as normal as possible. “How long have you been awake?”
“Since six. I’ve been on ghost patrol all morning.” She says it like it’s normal. “I was waiting to hear from him again.” She finally looks up at me. “But I heard nothing. Not one creak.”
She has no idea her ghost spent the night twelve feet under, drinking French wine with me.
I take a long sip of coffee to keep my face out of the conversation. “Maybe he moved on?”
“Potentially.” She narrows her eyes at the ceiling as if it might confess. “Before we open the shop, I’m swinging by the carnival. The food trucks and booths open today, and I want to check out the funnel cake situation. Nothing like fried dough, covered in powdered sugar, for breakfast.”
“Oh, yeah. You should stop by the Chamber of Commerce and get the application for the pie contest.”
“Great idea!” She tilts her head, glancing at the jacket hanging on the back of the chair. “Whose is that?”
My coffee goes down wrong, and I cough, almost choking. It buys me a second to come up with a story. “Lost and found from the shop. Somebody left it, and I brought it home so I’d remember to track down the owner.”
“It looks expensive.”
“Probably one of the leaf peepers who stopped by this week.”
And then the jacket rings, and it’s playing The Addams Family theme song even though it’s muffled. It’s loud and too cheerful.
We both look at it, and Josie’s head tilts. My soul briefly leaves my body.
“I wonder if that person knew they had their very own Morticia at their disposal. Obviously, a fan.” She snaps along twice and sings along.
I cross the kitchen, dig into the inside pocket, and silence it.
The lock screen appears with notifications. There are six missed calls and a text from someone named Patterson.
Patterson
Answer your phone, or I’m flying out there.
And under it, an email preview from the board office with a subject line I already hate: Please Accept Meeting Request—Nov. 1.
I shove it back into the pocket.
“Anyone important?” Josie asks.
“Nope,” I say.
“You should’ve answered it. Maybe they could help you locate who this shit belongs to.” She drains the rest of her coffee and sets the mug in the sink. “Okay, getting dressed, then scoping out the funnel cakes. I’ll meet you and Winter at the shop.”
“Have fun,” I say, grabbing the jacket and phone.
She moves upstairs, and I stand in the kitchen, listening. When all is quiet, I rush to the library, where I left Jamie waiting. When I enter, he’s holding Charlie like a baby, and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
“You’re a cat person?” I ask.
Charlie is purring loudly, like he’s never been happier in his entire feline life.
“Yeah. I guess I am now,” he tells me with a grin, setting Charlie down.
“Green flag,” I whisper.
The furball doesn’t move, just sits at his feet, pawing at Jamie’s leg. He bends down and pets Charlie’s head and under his chin.
“Sorry, buddy. I really gotta go.”
I hold out the jacket and keep my voice just above a whisper. “Somebody named Patterson has called you six times. And as I was silencing your phone, I saw a text where he was threatening to fly out here.”
“My brother. He gets dramatic when I don’t answer.”
“You have a brother?”
My rabbit hole stopped at his dating history. It was all I could handle before I closed out of my search. I never made it to his family. I don’t think I’ll be searching him again anytime soon. It was overwhelming.
“I have one brother, and he’s plenty. I have a little sister too. I think you’d like her. She’s a very talented painter.”
“Wow. Oh, there was a notification about a meeting.”
He slides the phone into his pocket without looking at it. “Don’t remind me.”
“Also, The Addams Family theme song? Really, Jamie?”
“It’s genuinely my favorite.” He grins. “It’s one of the reasons I was so shocked you showed up. It’s like—”
“Come on. Josie’s getting dressed, which gives us around five minutes.” I crack the library door, check the hall, and wave him out. “Right out the back.”
We make it exactly halfway down the hallway before I hear footsteps on the stairs.
I yank open the closet door, shove the two-hundred-pound ex-hockey player in with the winter coats, and join him. Winter starts singing Britney Spears’s “Baby One More Time.”
I’m pressed against his chest with my face in his collar. One of Flora’s furs is resting on my shoulder. The space smells of cedar, mothballs, and him. His heart is thumping hard. When I tip my head back, there’s just enough light through the door gap to see him grinning.
Winter’s footsteps go past us into the kitchen. A cabinet opens and closes, and then the faucet runs.
Jamie shifts his weight a centimeter, and a coat hanger sings out one bright jingle, and we both freeze. He has me caged into the coats, and he’s holding back laughter, and it’s contagious.
He dips his head, mouth at my ear, barely a breath. “Best morning of my life.”
I pinch his ribs, and he squirms.
Then, under the door, there’s a shadow and then a paw. Charlie’s arm comes swiping through the gap, patting around like a tiny bailiff serving a warrant.
“Charlie.” Winter clicks her tongue from the kitchen doorway. “What are you doing?”
He meows, continuing to paw under the door. I touch him with my toes, and he meows with his entire chest.
“Fucker,” I whisper.
The floor creaks, and footsteps pound on the hardwood floor. Charlie meows again like he’s being paid to rat us out.
Josie’s voice travels down the stairwell. “Winter! I have an emergency! Does this outfit say cute festival local or trying-too-hard tourist?”
It’s music to my damn ears. Charlie’s paw disappears.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Winter calls.
The kettle screams its high whistle, and their voices fade. I crack open the door and pull him out of the closet, pushing the coats back inside.
Mrs. Pembrooke from two doors down is on the sidewalk with her yappy little terrier at the corner.
“Shit.”
“It will be fine,” he says, stealing another kiss. “Can’t wait to see you tonight. High Spirits. Be there at nine.”
He leaves the house. I watch him stroll down the sidewalk, sliding his jacket over his body. When he passes her, he confidently grins and speaks. “Morning, ma’am. Beautiful day.”
“Isn’t it just gorgeous?” she says, delighted, and keeps walking.
He glances back at me once, then disappears around the corner. I shut the door and lean my forehead against it until my heart quits racing.
Charlie pads up behind me.
“You’re such a turd,” I tell him. “Whose side are you on anyway?”
He rubs around my legs. I bend down and pet him. Then I rush upstairs to shower, then get dressed for the day.
I make it to the shop thirty minutes before it opens.
Winter is already inside, getting ready for the shift.
Right after we open, Josie enters with a full funnel cake in one hand and a pie contest application in the other, which she fills out between customers.
I ring up crystals and bundled herbs and think about tonight.