The Professor Woos The Witch (Nocturne Falls Book 4)

by Kristen Painter

  “I do excellent work.”

  She lifted one shoulder. “I’m sure you believe that.”

  His eyes tapered like he’d just figured out what she was up to. “What do you want?”

  “I want the listing, but since I know what buyers look for in this town, I also want equal say in how you renovate the house.”

  “Are you going to put up equal funds?”

  “Are you going to cut me in for a share of the sale?”

  He uncrossed his legs and recrossed them in the opposite direction. “You can help with decisions. I promise to run everything by you. But it’s my money, so I get final say.”

  That was fair. “Deal.”

  He smiled again. “Deal. Thank you.”

  She wove the pen between her fingers. “So, Cole. What exactly do you believe in?”

  “The infinite value of pi. Prime numbers. The strength of an engineered beam. Measuring twice but cutting once.”

  She blinked. “Hoo boy, I can see why Kaley needs my help. Were you ever a kid? Did you ever believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy and that stepping on cracks could break your mother’s back?”

  “Sure, but I was a kid. I’m an adult now. And a realist.”

  “But Kaley’s not. She’s still a kid. And there are things out there beyond human comprehension, so before you go telling her not to believe in things, why don’t you let her enjoy being a kid?”

  He held his hands up. “Point taken. I’ll try to be more open-minded.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to drag you to a coven meeting or anything like that.”

  He laughed. “You won’t let it go, will you?”

  “What?” But she knew.

  “The witch thing.”

  So help her, she wanted to zap him. Anger bubbled through her. “It’s not a witch thing. It’s who I am. It’s who Kaley is, and it’s who her mentor will be.”

  He shook his head. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. Show me.”

  Her fingers twitched to do exactly that. Because even when her magic went wrong, he’d still have to admit she’d done something.

  She snapped her fingers, and the boysenberry candle sitting next to her pen holder blazed to life. She hoped it didn’t explode and cover them both with hot wax, but the flame died down to a dull flicker and danced happily atop the wick like every other lit candle she’d ever seen. It was rare that even a small use of magic went right for her, but thank the goddess it had.

  He nodded. “Good one.” He picked up the candle and looked underneath it. “Is there a magic shop that sells these in town? Because Kaley would love one.”

  “No, you…muggle. I did that.”

  He winked at her. “Right.”

  She pointed at the door. “I think we’re done here.”

  “We haven’t talked about how this is going to work.”

  “I’m not sure it’s going to.”

  “You said deal.”

  Fiddlesticks. So she had. She tried to remember this was for Kaley, not Cole. And the commission on the Pilcher Manor. “Fine. I’ll see if I can get Kaley a mentor. Shouldn’t be a big deal. I just have to find someone with the time and inclination, but most witches are happy to do it.”

  “Why not you?”

  Because of her broken magic, but that wasn’t a discussion she wanted to have with him. “I’m too busy. But I know a lot of witches.”

  “I bet you do.”

  She scowled at him.

  “Sorry, sorry, I’ll work on that.” He stood. “Come to dinner tonight. You have my word it will go better than breakfast. In fact, we can go out. Neutral ground that way. Your choice so long as it doesn’t involve me wearing a tie.”

  She took a breath and let that thought marinate. He might be less likely to get into an argument in public. Which would give her a chance to talk to Kaley. “Howler’s. Six forty-five.” That would be enough time to go home, change and feed Pumpkin.

  “Howler’s. That’s down at the end of Main, right?”

  “Right.” Because a werewolf bar was the perfect place to take a guy who didn’t believe in things that went bump in the night.

  “Great. See you then. I have to get back to work.” He started for the door.

  “What are you doing on the house today?”

  He stopped and turned back to face her. “I’m ordering the new kitchen. Cabinets, counter tops, faucets.”

  She canted her head to the side. “Shouldn’t I be helping you with that? Per our new deal?”

  He closed his eyes and opened them back up very slowly, like he was trying to keep himself from reacting. “I guess so.”

  She grabbed her purse, thankful she didn’t have any showings until this afternoon, and blew out the candle.

  He held his hand toward the door. “On to the cabinet shop we go.”

  Cole drove a pickup, which wasn’t unexpected, but Pandora had figured it would be dirty inside from whatever construction jobs he’d been working and okay, because he was a guy, littered with food wrappers and random pieces of two-by-fours and those odd flat pencils carpenters used. Instead, it was neat as a pin and smelled like the beach.

  She tapped the palm tree air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. “Kaley?”

  “Yes.”

  Pandora put her purse on the floor and strapped her seat belt on.

  Cole gave her a funny look, then put on his own.

  “What was that look for?”

  His brows lifted as he shifted into drive and pulled the vehicle onto the road. “You’re pretty trusting to get in a truck with a stranger.”

  She gave him a funny look right back. “Are you saying I shouldn’t be? What are you trying to tell me?”

  His eyes lit with amusement. “Nothing. Just making an observation.”

  “You’re not exactly a stranger. I know where you live. I know your first and last name and your daughter’s.” And she’d zap him with magic if he tried anything. Not that it would necessarily work, but hope sprang eternal.

  “I guess.”

  She smiled. “Plus, it would be a pretty high coincidence that we’re both serial killers.”

  He laughed, his black eyes flashing. “For a potentially crazy woman, you’re pretty funny.”

  “Thanks, I think.” She sat back, wondering if he had any idea how handsome he was when he smiled. It was a bit disarming, because he didn’t seem like he had a clue.

  He didn’t smell bad, either.

  Oh boy. Was she getting a little infatuated? She’d always had a thing for stubborn boys who didn’t believe. A sadness welled up inside her. It was like high school all over again.

  She shoved that thought out of her head. Now was neither the time nor the place to rehash that horrible memory. “So, Melworth’s Kitchens and More?”

  “What? No. I was going to the DIY Depot.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “A big-box store?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  “Because they’re not local, they don’t do custom cabinets and—”

  “Custom? Whoa, what kind of money do you think I’m putting into this place?”

  She raised her brows and gave him her best disdainful glare. “The kind it deserves. Pilcher Manor isn’t a starter home. You can’t just throw any old fixtures in it and call it done.”

  He kept his eyes on the road as he drove. “Custom cabinets are expensive.”

  “And how much did the house cost you?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Do you understand what it could potentially sell for?”

  He sighed. “Not really, no. But I’m guessing you can tell me.”

  “If you do it right—”

  “You mean your way.”

  “Sure, let’s go with that. If you do it right, it could be worth one-point-two, maybe one-point-three. I mean, I haven’t pulled comps, but—”

  Cole pulled off onto the shoulder, and the vehicle screeched to a stop. He threw the truck into park and twi
sted to face her. “Are you saying one-point-two as in million?”

  “Did you think I meant doughnuts? Yes, million. Are you that clueless about the house you inherited?”

  He sat back and stared out the windshield, his long fingers gently rapping the top of the steering wheel. A few moments passed before he spoke again. “I guess I am.”

  He finally looked at her. “Where’s this place you mentioned? Melvins?”

  “Melworth’s. Past the DIY Depot and on the left.”

  “You’re sure you can get that kind of money?”

  “Positive. No one sells more real estate in Nocturne Falls than I do.”

  He put the truck back in drive and pulled onto the highway.

  She settled into her seat a little more. “Does this mean custom cabinets?”

  “Damn straight.” He glanced over, a slight smile bending his lips. Lips that probably didn’t suck at kissing. Or did suck, but in the good way. “It also means I want you to come back to the house tonight after dinner and tell me what else I need to do to get the place in the kind of shape you think it should be in.”

  Huh. Maybe he wasn’t so stubborn after all. “That kind of sounds like you’re actually going to honor us being partners on this.”

  He nodded, eyes back on the road. “Hey, I’m a man of my word. You okay being partnered up with a muggle?”

  She laughed. “I’ll make a believer out of you yet.”

  “I doubt that. But I’m happy to have your expertise.”

  “Thanks.” Then it struck her that in less than twenty-four hours, she’d gone from not knowing Cole Van Zant existed, to almost having breakfast with him, to agreeing to dinner with him and partnering with him on the rehab of one of the most potentially beautiful old homes in town. Which meant she’d be seeing a lot of Mr. Van Zant.

  It was the closest thing to a relationship she’d had since high school.

  And there it was again, the memory of her past. This was why she didn’t have relationships. Too many reminders of how fast things could go tragically wrong. Too much potential for life-altering, soul-shattering heartbreak.

  She turned to look out the passenger-side window. There was no stopping the memory now. The image of Ren’s face flashed through her mind, and she sucked in a breath. A barrage of images came after. The crash. The ambulance.

  The funeral.

  “Hey, you still with me?”

  She turned. “What?”

  “You seemed lost in thought.”

  She forced a smile. “Just thinking about the possibilities.” The DIY Depot was up ahead. She pointed to it. “After you pass the Depot, you’ll see Melworth’s in another quarter mile. It looks like a warehouse, but trust me, it’s the place you want to be.”

  “I do trust you.” He tipped his head. “Mostly.”

  “No one would expect more than that right away.” She pointed again. “There, that’s Melworth’s.”

  “You’re right. It does look like a dumpy old warehouse.”

  “I never said dumpy.”

  “It was implied.” He parked the truck on the gravel lot, throwing up a small cloud of dust. “Shall we?”

  If Melworth’s was dumpy on the outside, it was a curious mix of showroom fancy and busy warehouse on the inside. She’d brought many clients here to show them what was possible for their home.

  Cole nodded approvingly as they walked through the displays. “You’re right. Much nicer stuff than at the Depot.”

  “Told you.”

  Gary Melworth came up to Pandora with a big smile on his face. “Pandora! Nice to see you.” He glanced at Cole. “New client?”

  “Sort of. This is Cole Van Zant. He just inherited the Pilcher Manor. I’m going to help him with some selections to bring it up-to-date. Cole, this is Gary Melworth, the owner.”

  The two shook hands. Gary was a good enough businessman not to let the dollar signs show in his eyes, but Pandora knew he understood the magnitude of the job she’d just brought him. He nodded. “Whatever you need, you know I’m happy to help.”

  “That’s why we’re here.”

  He gave her a nod. “You know your way around. You need anything, holler.”

  “Will do.”

  Cole nudged her as Gary walked away. “You getting a kickback from that guy?”

  She frowned at him. “No.”

  Cole shrugged. “You should be.”

  “I don’t work that way.” She walked toward a display that caught her eye. “But he does send me a three-pound box of handmade chocolates every year at Christmas.” He’d also redone her kitchen at half-price, but she didn’t mention it because it suddenly seemed like that might qualify as a kickback.

  She put her hand on the vanilla glazed maple cabinet in front of her. “What do you think of these?”

  He made a face. “That’s not how I was picturing it.”

  “Let me guess. Dark wood, dark granite.”

  “No?”

  “That kitchen is dark enough already. Which reminds me, that wall between the kitchen and the dining room should come down. If it’s not load bearing, of course.”

  “Oddly enough, I was already thinking about that.” He stared at the cabinets. Then looked at her. “I see what you’re saying about the lighter cabinets, I really do. But maybe we should walk through the house together before we go any further?”

  She took her hand off the cabinet. “Okay, we can wait until after dinner, then.”

  “No,” Cole said. “I mean right now.”

  When they walked into the old house, Cole was instantly struck by how alone he was with a very beautiful woman. He still considered her a little batty for thinking she was a witch, but he’d underestimated her when it came to the house stuff. She clearly knew what she was doing, and if she could get the kind of money she’d talked about for this place, he could live with the batty part until the job was done. That kind of money would set him and Kaley up for a long time. Even her college would be paid for.

  He could also stop worrying about getting another job during the summers. In fact, maybe he and Pandora could go into the remodeling business on the side. Okay, he wasn’t sure why he was thinking about going into business with a woman he’d just met. He needed to slow down and focus on the task at hand. One thing at a time and all that.

  He shut the door behind them. “Give me a sec to grab my notepad from the kitchen.”

  “Sure.”

  When he came back, legal pad and pen in hand, she was doing a slow circle, taking a close look at the foyer from top to bottom.

  He leaned against the stairs. “What do you think?”

  “The bones are really good, but the balusters need work.”

  He nodded. “I was going to strip them and refinish. Okay?”

  She scrunched up her nose, an expression he was coming to recognize as her way of softening bad news. “I don’t think so.”

  “What, then?”

  “The hand railing and newel posts can stay, because that’s a nice touch and a nod to the history of the house, but for the balusters, I’d go wrought iron. Not only would it modernize this entrance, but it would tie into the wrought-iron fence outside.”

  He shook his head as he took notes. The woman was brilliant.

  “You don’t like it.”

  “No, I do,” he said. “I never would have thought of that, and it’s perfect. It’s going to cost, but—”

  “You’ll make it back.”

  “I know.” He smiled. “What else?”

  They walked through the house together, her giving her thoughts for each room and him jotting down her design plans. By the time they’d finished the second story, he had fifteen pages of notes and a solid idea of her vision, which frankly, was so superior to what he’d been planning that he just kept nodding and writing.

  He flipped the pages of the legal pad back and tucked it under his arm. “I guess that’s it. I have a lot of work to do, namely clearing the rest of the junk out of here, but after
that, it’s full steam ahead on the remodel.”

  She glanced up. “What about the attic?”

  He looked at the stairs that led to what was technically the third story of the house. “I figured I’d just leave it as storage for whoever buys the house. If they want to do something with it, that’s on them.”

  She cocked one eyebrow.

  “You want to see it?”

  “I do.”

  “It’s a little…weird up there.”

  “Weird?”

  “You’ll see. Follow me.” He led her up the steps, pushed open the door and moved aside to let her in.

  Natural light filled the space from the dormers and, at the rear of the house, three large Gothic arched windows that looked over the backyard. It didn’t look nearly as creepy as it had the first night he and Kaley had come up here.

  “This doesn’t seem weird.” She walked over to the middle window. “Great view of the yard. And wow, is it overgrown. You could hide an elephant in there.”

  He stood by one of the sidewalls that held rows of shelves filled with odd bottles, random trinkets and as-yet-unopened boxes. “Really? You don’t think all this is weird?”

  She turned to look at him, her gaze going past him to the shelves. “Hmm.” She walked over, picked up one of the bottles and studied it before putting it back on the shelf and facing him again. “I can take these things off your hands.”

  “Why? What is it?”

  She gave him a piercing look. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Humor me.”

  Her lips twitched like she was suppressing a smile. “Witch stuff.”

  He frowned. “Now you’re just screwing with me.”

  “No, I’m not.” She picked up one of the boxes, lifted the hinged lid, took a look, then held it out for him to see. “Who else would have a collection of cat whiskers? This proves Gertrude was a witch.”

  He glanced briefly into the box. “It proves she was a crazy cat lady, but that’s about it.”

  With a deep sigh, Pandora closed the lid and put the box back. “Okay, how about this?” She took a small brass mirror off another shelf and offered it to him. “Look into that and tell me what you see.”