Witching For Grace: Premonition Pointe, Book 1
Page 10
“No shit,” Joy muttered. “Don’t wait twenty-five years to start experimenting. Bad things happen.”
“Okay, that’s it. Start talking, Joy.” Grace propped her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Did Paul have a stroke when you waltzed in with your girls flashing like strobe lights?”
“That would imply he’s paying attention, Grace,” Joy said dryly.
“Okay, so no stroke. What happened?”
She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You know things in the bedroom have been… lacking a bit the past few years.”
“I think the term you’re looking for is non-existent,” Hope said, patting her arm sympathetically.
“Guh! Don’t remind me.” Joy grabbed Hope’s drink and drank a quarter of it before she continued. “Anyway, in an effort to reignite the spark, I ordered a few things as a surprise for Paul’s birthday. We were supposed to go out of town for the weekend, so I thought, what better way to spice things up than to call Pam and get some of those adult toys to try out?”
Grace didn’t like where this was going. According to Joy, Paul wasn’t the most adventurous man. If he’d rejected her or humiliated her in any way, it was going to take an act of God to stop her from verbally castrating him. “What did you get besides light up tata tassels?”
Her face blushed a bright shade of pink as she stared at the table.
“Joy. Come on. No judgement here,” Grace said, eyeing Hope. Of the two of them, she was the one more likely to crack a joke and end up saying something uncalled for. “Right, Hope?”
“Hey, what are you looking at me for?” Hope asked, acting offended. “I’m the one who suggested she go out of her comfort zone a little to see if that would kickstart things.”
“She did,” Joy confirmed. “I just wish she’d told me that in the wrong hands tata tassels might be mistaken for streamers.”
“Um, what?” Grace asked. “Tell me they weren’t used as decorations for Paul’s birthday party.”
“You know how Paul’s mother came to town for a few days right before we were supposed to head up north?” Joy asked.
“Oh, no, Joy.” Grace sputtered with laughter. “She found them?”
Joy nodded grimly. “I’d ordered some of her favorite coffee online, and while I was out running errands, it showed up along with my other deliveries. Marge took it upon herself to open all of the packages.”
Grace said nothing as she cringed for her friend. Marge Lansing was the type of lady who thought wearing shorts in public was scandalous and never missed an opportunity to inform Joy that her necklines were too low and her hemlines too high. If she was involved, Grace knew this story wasn’t going to end well.
“Tell her what was in the second package,” Hope said, unable to hide her chuckle.
Joy used two fingers to rub her left temple. “You know how I told you that I caught Paul watching porn that one time?”
“Yeah?” Grace wasn’t sure where this was going. She didn’t know one married woman who hadn’t caught her husband watching porn at some point or another.
“I checked his browser history to see what he might like. I thought… Well, I thought that if I presented him with his fantasy, that might help.” Joy’s face had gone from tinged pink to bright red.
“That’s actually pretty sweet.” Grace said. But seeing the horrified look on Joy’s face, she added, “I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”
“It didn’t go anywhere. Because do you know what happens when you order an assortment of butt plugs and your mother-in-law finds them?”
Grace’s mouth dropped open, and silence filled the table as the phrase butt plugs hung in the air. Finally, Grace cleared her throat. “Um, excuse me, but did you just say—”
“Butt plugs. That’s right. I’m so desperate for my husband to notice me again that I ordered those damn things, thinking we’d test them out together. And maybe we’d try… you know.”
“But…” Grace shook her head, trying to process what her friend had just said. She didn’t have a problem with anyone trying whatever their kinks were, but back door action? In twenty years, she’d never heard her friend talk about anything other than vanilla sex. “Are you sure you want to try that? I thought…” She cleared her throat. “Exit only, remember?”
Hope snickered.
Joy gave Grace a flat stare. “The toys weren’t for me, Grace.”
“Oh. Oh!” Grace’s face flushed hot. “I see. How did that… I mean, did it help?”
“Nope. Remember I said that Marge opened the boxes?”
Grace’s eyes felt huge as they nearly popped out of her head. “Paul’s mother found them? What did she say?”
“She said they make lovely centerpieces,” Joy said with an exasperated sigh. “They were the glass kind, and Marge used them in the flower arrangements she made for us. Imagine my surprise when I came home and found the dining room table set with three arrangements of silk flowers, each of them with a glass plug right in the center. Meanwhile, the flashing tassels were hung on either side of a Happy Birthday streamer. When Paul walked in behind me a few minutes later, he thought he’d walked in on a stripper party.”
“Oh my god,” Grace wheezed as laughter seized her. Tears started to roll down her cheeks and suddenly it was very hard to breathe.
Hope joined in the hysterics, and the two of them were practically falling out of their chairs when the waiter dropped by with their totchos and basket of wings.
“Can I get the largest margarita you have?” Joy asked him. “And a giant piece of salted caramel cheesecake.”
“It’s that kind of day?” he asked sympathetically.
“You have no idea.”
Grace and Hope only laughed harder.
By the time Grace got herself under control and wiped her eyes, Joy was chuckling along with them.
“You know, in the moment, I was completely horrified. If the floor would’ve opened up and swallowed me whole, I would’ve welcomed my demise, but this is a story I’ll be telling when I’m rolling around the old folks’ home.”
“No doubt,” Hope agreed, squeezing Joy’s hand.
“So, what happened after that?” Grace asked.
“Paul kept his cool long enough to thank his mother for her thoughtfulness and acted as if we didn’t have sex toys adorning our dining room table while we had dinner with his mother. Thankfully, it was just the three of us that night. All the kids had other plans. The minute she left, he lost his shit and tossed the centerpieces in the garbage. Then he didn’t talk to me for three days.”
“Did you ever discuss it after that?” Grace asked, wanting to wrap her friend in a hug.
“Nope. He refused. Even when I tried to explain that I’d just wanted to find something that might spice things up for him, he shut me out and told me everything was fine the way it is.”
But Grace knew things obviously weren’t fine; otherwise, Joy wouldn’t be snooping around his porn history, trying to figure out how to get him back in the saddle, so to speak. She gave Joy a sympathetic smile. “Have you tried talking to a counselor?”
“Paul won’t go. He won’t do anything.” She sighed heavily. “I know he’s embarrassed about what happened. So am I. But it’s not like I’m not openminded. I just want him to talk to me about whatever it is.”
Grace bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t help but wonder if Paul was seeing someone else. Wasn’t that usually why men suddenly lost interest in their wives? Although Bill hadn’t lost interest in Grace. Maybe things weren’t as black and white as everyone believed. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I could help.”
“I know.” She thanked the waiter for the margarita he placed in front of her and said, “Okay, enough about my pathetically lacking sex life. Tell me what happened today. You said something about a message?”
Leave it to Joy to remember what we’re really at lunch to discuss, Grace thought. “Right.” She launched into the story of what she and Hope had e
xperienced at the house. When she was done, she sat back and crossed her arms. “Any ideas what that might mean?”
Joy pursed her lips. “Nothing past the obvious. I think you could be onto something about needing to solve a mystery, or it could be about passing on a message. I’ve got the property records from the courthouse now. Tomorrow we can work on digging into the histories of the former owners and see if there was any foul play or anything unusual that might give us some clues.”
“Meanwhile, I have to show the house to Matt tomorrow. Any ideas on how to keep the ghost from scaring him off completely?” Grace asked.
She wasn’t surprised when neither of them had any answers.
Chapter Thirteen
Armed with a half dozen properties to show Matt, Grace walked into the café with her head held high and determination in her step. She’d had a moment of clarity the night before when she’d been walking on the beach. There wasn’t anything to be gained by not telling Matt about what had happened the day before at the cottage. She knew she had a responsibility to the seller to do everything in her power to move his house, but Matt was also her client. He deserved to know what he was getting into. And while there wasn’t anything official that said she or the seller had to disclose unusual paranormal activity, she had a moral obligation to do just that.
Grace couldn’t live with herself if she sold someone a property that wasn’t right for them, or worse, turned out to be their worst nightmare. “Good morning,” she said, slipping into the booth across from him. “Are you ready to find your new beach home?”
“You’re awfully confident.” Matt pushed a cinnamon roll over to her and waved at the barista behind the counter. “Can you get Grace something to drink?”
“The usual?” Kari called back, watching Grace.
“Yes, please.” Grace waved at her and nodded in appreciation as the barista went to work on her chai tea latte.
“You must come here a lot,” Matt said.
“It’s better than a stuffy office.” She pushed a folder over to him. “These are the houses I set appointments for you to see. They include the two you sent me last night as well as a couple others that show a lot better in person than their pictures indicate. Take a look. If there are any that are an automatic no for whatever reason, just say so and I’ll cancel.”
Matt didn’t even look before he was shaking his head. “I’m up for seeing whatever you think is worth looking at.”
“Okay then. Perfect.” She smiled at him but couldn’t help wondering how the showings were going to go. So far, he’d been pretty vague about what he wanted. The only two requirements were an ocean view and that the place had to be big enough for extended family. That left a lot of room in the middle.
It didn’t take long for Grace to finish off her cinnamon roll, and then the two of them climbed in her SUV and headed for the first house on the list. Three hours later, they’d seen five of the houses. Matt had been animated about all of them. He’d been especially pleased that all of them had views, though three were a little further from the beach or the town than he cared for. He’d talked about ideas to update a few of the kitchens, laughed when one had a literal water closet with just a toilet under the stairs, and made jokes about the red and pink floral wallpaper that covered the entire upstairs of one of the homes.
Matt was happily chatting about a trip he had planned with his two sons later in the year when she pulled up outside the large white cottage. She’d intentionally saved the haunted one for last. Who knew what was going to happen, and she hadn’t wanted any negative experiences to taint how he felt about the rest of the showings.
Grace killed the engine but didn’t make a move to get out of the vehicle. “There’s something you need to know about this property before we go in.”
“Okay,” Matt said quietly. His entire demeanor had changed. Gone was the chatty guy who’d been excitedly talking about his sons. He’d been replaced by a contemplative man who looked somewhat troubled, with his eyebrows drawn together and his lips slightly pinched as he stared at the large home.
“Matt?” Grace asked. “Is everything all right?”
“Huh?” He whipped his head around, staring at her with a surprised expression as if he’d just realized she was sitting next to him.
“I asked if you’re all right,” she said, frowning.
“Oh. Yeah. I’m fine.” He turned to look at the house again. “It’s a pretty one, isn’t it?”
His statement should’ve been a positive one; instead, his tone was flat and almost disinterested.
Grace wasn’t sure what was going on with him. Perhaps he was picking up on the vibe of the place. If that was true, then that was just one more reason to level with him. “There’s a reason this house has been on the market for so long.”
“The price?” he asked, staring out the window again. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and it didn’t take much to notice the tension running through him.
“No. Not really. Under other circumstances, I’d say it’s a tad underpriced for the market, but…”
“It’s haunted, isn’t it?” he asked, sitting back and closing his eyes.
“How can you tell?” She couldn’t help but wonder if he had some sort of gift that let him see or feel spirits. Most people could see them if the spirits showed themselves. But there were others who always knew, no matter what the spirits did.
“I just know,” he said. A few moments passed, and then he added, “I don’t need to go inside, Grace. This isn’t the house for me.”
Disappointment settled deep in her bones. She’d known the minute his demeanor had changed that this property was out of the running, but hope sprung eternal.
“Right.” She started the car and took him back to the café. Before she could even manage to put the SUV in park, Matt jumped out.
“Thanks for the showings, Grace,” he said. “I have a lot to think about.”
“Can I give you a call tomorrow so we can go over your thoughts and decide where we go from here?”
“Yeah. Sure. Have a nice evening.” He gently shut her door and then jumped into his Land Rover and sped away so fast his tires squealed.
Grace groaned. After what had started as a promising day, she’d completely screwed up by taking him to see the white cottage. Suddenly, she resented everything about her agreement with Landers. No one in that office had been able to sell those homes. She was a good agent. It was ridiculous that she had to do it as a prerequisite for a permanent job, even though now it was clear he needed more agents. When she’d come in to interview she hadn’t realized that Landers Realty was on par to outpace Bill’s office. That tidbit was deeply satisfying. Still, they were entirely too busy for just Kevin and Owen to handle. Bastard. What kind of jerk made her jump through hoops when he knew she was more than qualified to do the job? But what choice did she have? None. Not if she wanted to work in Premonition Pointe.
Her phone buzzed in the console beside her. Hope’s name flashed on the screen, and a tiny bit of the tension in Grace’s shoulders eased.
“Hey? Is it time for lunch? Real food this time?” Grace asked, hoping her friend was done with work for the day. Since Hope was an event planner, as long as she wasn’t in the middle of a function, her schedule was fairly flexible.
“Lucas just called me,” she said in a hushed tone.
“Lucas King?” Grace asked, her voice rising in shock.
“Yes.”
Holy hell on wheels. Lucas King was Hope’s one-who-got-away. The one they all thought she was going to follow across the country when he moved to the East Coast. “What did he want?”
There was a rustle on the other end of the line before Hope said, “I don’t know. I haven’t listened to the message yet.”
“Hope!” Grace shook her head. “Hang up right now, listen to it, and call me back.”
“I can’t. I’m in the middle of dealing with a wedding shower disaster.”
“Where are you?” Grace demanded.<
br />
“Bird’s Eye Bakery. They lost the order I’m supposed to be picking up right now. They—never mind. Miss Francie is here. I’ve got to go.” The line went dead before Grace could say another word.
Grace hit Joy’s name in her contact list. The call immediately went to voice mail. “Dammit, Joy. Call me as soon as you get this. It’s an emergency. Lucas called Hope, and she’s freaking out.” As soon as she hung up, Grace sent Joy a text then put the SUV in drive and headed straight for the bakery.
Grace parked right next to Hope’s Toyota Highlander and rushed into Bird’s Eye Bakery. She spotted her fiery friend at the end of the counter waving her hands in the air and nodding toward the cases full of various treats.
Miss Francie had a pained expression on her face as she nodded and then started to fill various pastry boxes with stock from her cases. Hope frantically typed something into her phone, and when she was done, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
“Crisis averted?” Grace asked, eyeing the vibrant purple silk blouse and black skinny jeans Hope was wearing. She looked incredible with her wild dark curls and her face touched only by the barest of blush and lipstick.
“For now,” she said without opening her eyes. “The bridezilla is probably going to flip a table, but at least there will be sugar to appease the guests.”
A few minutes later, Grace helped Hope carry the pastry boxes out to her Toyota. Once they had them all stuffed in the back, Grace turned to her and said, “Hand me your phone.”
Hope did as she was told without objection. It was just about the only time Grace could recall in recent memory that her friend hadn’t argued when given a direct order. Hope wasn’t the kind to take directions well. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, and how she wanted, without input from anyone. But not when it came to Lucas King. He was the one person in the world who could unbalance her.