Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Evie
I sprint from the office to the kitchen while the ear-piercing fire alarm I installed two years back screams an ungodly loud noise, loud enough to wake the dead.
Thankfully, the undead here remain unfazed by the disturbance, moving through the hallways in front of me and attending to their affairs as if nothing unusual is happening.
I’d gone to set an alarm to check on the cake but then saw the stack of bills on the counter.
I was calling to make payments when I remembered we were nearly out of laundry detergent, so I logged into the computer to put in a bulk order of detergent, cleaner, and other necessities like toilet paper for the guests.
Then I received a phone call from my parents asking how everything was going.
I was not about to tell them I was up to my ears in repairs and holding the house together with sheer will and molasses.
They asked if the aunties were still up to their antics trying to find me a date for the Pumpkin Festival, and I skirted around the topic of Liam, instead asking how their trip through Europe was going.
As soon as we hung up, I saw the sticky note I’d left myself to return my library books before Sunday.
That’s when I heard the high-pitched wail of the fire alarm from the kitchen.
Smoke billows from the oven as I yank open the door, throw on the oven mitts hanging on the wall, and grab the tray. A heavy ache settles low within me, my gaze locked on the burnt, blackened cake still releasing wisps of smoke.
“Evie?”
I nearly jump out of my skin as I pull the tray from the oven and set the offending pan on top of the stove before shoving the oven door closed. It slams with a loud clang, sending a cloud of smoke right into my face.
Bending over in a coughing fit, tears streaming from my stinging eyes behind my glasses, I cross the room and wrench the kitchen window open, hoping to suck the smell of burnt crust and smoke out before it travels through the rest of the house.
As the smoke clears, Molly’s semitranslucent form comes into focus, and I slump into a nearby kitchen chair. Half the day is gone. I barely have time to bake one cake for the pumpkin baking contest, let alone clean the kitchen and try again.
“Oh, it’s just you.” I pull my hair into a loose bun on top of my head.
“Just me?” She gives a mock gasp, hand raised to her chest. “I’ll have you know I’m your biggest supporter around here. A third of the spirits think you’re doing a fine job, the other two-thirds think you’ll burn this whole place down, and by the look of it, you’re trying to prove them right.”
She fans her ghostly hand before her, although it does nothing to dispel the smoke slowly seeping toward the kitchen window.
“I know, and I appreciate your friendship. I’m just…
” How do I tell an apparition who’s known me since I was in nappies, who I now consider one of my closest friends, that I’m tied up in anxious knots over how I’m doing as keeper of the B&B, my ADD is through the roof, and now every other thought is consumed by the jaguar shifter who’s sharing my bed?
Platonically.
And how I don’t know how to put myself first and tell him what I really want… even if it’s just for the week.
“Well, spit it out already. Don’t just sit there with your jaw hanging open. It’s unbecoming and unladylike.”
And here comes the century-old education of where a lady belongs, how she’s supposed to behave, and knowing her place in society.
As if it isn’t the twenty-first century.
“I just have a lot on my plate running the B&B, and you know this is the busiest season of the year. The guests practically pay half the year’s bills just this month.”
“Well then, I certainly hope you aren’t trying to serve them this for breakfast. Why don’t you order pastries from that little bakery down the road?
That young man who brings them by is such a sight for sore eyes.
” She sighs, draping herself into the chair across from me at the little four-seater table.
My folks brought it in so Evalyn and I could eat breakfast while the two of them cooked, before they bought the main house.
I miss the company.
“It’s not for breakfast, and from word around town, he has a beau. Not to mention he can’t see ghosts. It wouldn’t work out.”
“You don’t know that. I’ve seen those romance novels your aunts read. Anything is possible.”
I raise an eyebrow, and she huffs before throwing her arms into the air and storming back over to the smoldering mess on the stovetop.
“If it’s not for the B&B, whatever are you doing?”
“It’s supposed to be for the baking contest Saturday at the Pumpkin Festival. I figured I’d try something new this year.” I shrug, but my mind wanders back to a particularly tall, auburn-haired shifter.
“I don’t think you get points for extra crispiness.
” Molly wrinkles her nose in a most unladylike fashion as she pokes at my burnt creation.
“Securing victory in the Pumpkin Festival pumpkin baking contest demands a unique, top-rated recipe that harmonizes bold pumpkin flavor with interesting textures and a polished appearance.”
“I didn’t mean to burn it—”
“I certainly would hope not.” She dusts her hands on the towel hanging above the sink as though any of the burnt pastry could stick to her ghostly fingers. “What were you even trying to make? Normally, you enter your thrice-great-grandmother’s pumpkin bread.”
I sigh and push to my feet to wash the dirty mixing bowl and various other instruments. If anyone walked in right now, they’d think I’d used every utensil in the kitchen to bake one thing.
“I was trying to recreate this cranberry-swirl pumpkin cake with cream cheese frosting I saw online. I just lost track of time and forgot to set my alarm.”
“Doing fifty thousand things like always, I’m presuming.
” Her lips press into a thin line as she props her hands on her hips, looking very much like the lady of the house about to reprimand a small child or a maid who stained her favorite gown.
“You could have burned the house down through your carelessness. What would happen to all of us?”
She sweeps her right arm through the air, gesturing toward the rest of the building without breaking eye contact.
“I know. I’m sorry.” My voice cracks. I drop my head, staring at the hot, sudsy water as the sink fills.
Maybe I am in too far over my head. One of the toilets upstairs overflowed, the shutter on the south-facing window came loose in a gust of wind, and I still need to fix the broken pane of glass on the back door.
Tears rim my eyes as I attack the dishes with the sponge, scrubbing until the stainless steel shines.
I love this B&B. It’s been in our family for as long as I can remember, and I love running it.
But… do I feel this way because there’s no one else to do it, or because I truly want to be here?
The reality is…
Both?
Molly places her cold, ghostly hand on my shoulder, and for the second time today, I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Toad’s tongue!” A chill runs through my body, and I rinse my hands before wiping them on the towel. “You’re like a block of ice, you know that?”
“A block of ice? Can’t say I’ve heard that one before.”
I spin around, bracing my hands on the sink behind me. Molly giggles, hiding her face behind her hand before wiggling her eyebrows at me and fading through the wall.
“Liam.” His name comes out breathless, and I can’t help the heat rising to my cheeks as I glance at him leaning casually against the kitchen doorframe. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Well, you’re lucky there’s no one here but your three aunts playing some crazy card game in the parlor.
From the sound of steel smashing and the smoke coming out the window as I parked, I thought you were fighting a small army in here.
” His gaze flicks over the kitchen before landing back on me.
My heart pounds wildly as his eyes linger, leaving me restless, like a forgotten flame smoldering in the dark.
“Just cooking and cleaning.” I take a large gulp of water from the condensation-slick glass on the counter, trying to collect myself. I wipe my hands down the front of my apron before meeting his gaze again. “What are you doing back so early?”
I didn’t think shifters had the ability to read thoughts, but the way the corner of his lips turns up has me second-guessing.
“Well, I was in town checking out some leads, and the sweetest little old lady recommended that while I was there, I absolutely had to stop at the pumpkin patch. Then she teased and interrogated me about why I was in town, and that’s when I found out your aunts spent the morning dropping the fact that I’m your boyfriend and staying at the bed-and-breakfast. And let me tell you, I have never seen word spread so fast.”
“My aunts told the whole town that you and I are dating?” I lean back against the sink.
Of course word would spread fast. Pumpkin Hollow is a small town full of nosy, gossiping old biddy witches. It’s like throwing a spark on dry kindling.
Not that I care that much. There isn’t really anyone in town I have my eye on.
It’s more the fact that I’m already up to my ears in work with the bed-and-breakfast. The last thing I need is to crowd-control people who want to know about this mysterious stranger who just happens to be in my life, especially when I don’t really have a good story about why he’s here or how we met.
The worst part?
He won’t be here after the end of the week, and I’ll be left to deal with the aftermath of explaining why we “broke up.”
“Evie?”
I look up and notice the furrow in Liam’s brow, which is very unbecoming of him.
“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind right now. What was that?” I shake my head as though it’ll loosen the cobwebs that have settled there.
“I was asking if you would like to go with me to the pumpkin patch this afternoon.”
“The pumpkin patch?”
“Yes, the pumpkin patch.”
“Like a date?”