I glanced around at the pile of clothes for a second. “You’ve tried all these on?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve only been home like twenty minutes and this is like fifty outfits, so that’s virtually impossible,” I pointed out.
“Most of them she just came out and threw at me and screamed ‘how could you let me buy this,’” Clove said helpfully.
“I did not,” Thistle scoffed, running her hand through her hair exasperatedly.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Thistle was clearly on the edge. If I started laughing now, she would cross over to deranged, and then I may be late for the bonfire tonight because Thistle would beat the crap out of me.
“You’re nervous,” I finally said.
“I am not nervous.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I am not.”
“You are, too.”
“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Clove interrupted. “What can we do to help?”
“Find me something that doesn’t make me look repulsive,” Thistle countered.
“None of this makes you look repulsive,” Clove said kindly, glancing down at the skirt in her hand. “Although, this skirt does make you look hippy.”
“Way to help,” I shot back at Clove.
Clove shrugged helplessly.
I blew out a sigh and got to my feet. “Let’s approach this one step at a time. First off, we need to settle on an outfit. If Marcus shows up and you’re wearing that he’ll pass out before you even leave the house.”
Thistle glanced down at her black boyfriend underwear and the matching pushup bra. “You’re probably right.”
“I know I’m right. Nice to see you put on your fancy underwear just in case, though.”
Clove looked scandalized. “You’re not planning on sleeping with him on the first date, are you?”
“Of course not,” Thistle shot back. “And these are not my fancy underwear.”
“Of course they are,” I challenged her. “They make your butt look thinner. I have the same pair. I’m not stupid.”
Thistle’s cheeks flooded with color. “I’m not planning on sleeping with him,” she repeated.
“I know,” I said encouragingly. “It never hurts to be prepared, though.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Clove said. “I knew you shaved your legs this morning for a reason.”
I sorted through the pile of clothes on the couch for a minute and then turned to Thistle. “I don’t think you should wear a skirt,” I said honestly.
“Why not?”
“You’re going to a bonfire,” I pointed out.
“So?”
“You’re going to be sitting on bales of hay,” I tried again.
“So?”
“So, you don’t want straw to poke you in your . . . you know . . . hoo-ha,” Clove supplied.
Thistle and I both swung on Clove. “Her hoo-ha?”
“If you’re going to call it that, you’re never going to get laid,” Thistle grumbled dismissively.
After helping Thistle pick out her most flattering jeans and pairing them with a sparkly tank top and her cutest Madden boots, Clove tackled Thistle’s hair while I started applying her makeup.
When we were done, we stepped back to admire our handiwork. She did look fabulous, if I did say so myself.
Thistle regarded herself in the mirror and blew out a sigh. “Do I look okay?”
“You look great,” Clove said earnestly.
“You do,” I agreed.
Thistle still looked doubtful, but the fight had left her. “Do you think Marcus will like it, though?”
“You really like him,” I laughed.
“He’s just a guy,” Thistle protested.
“If he was just a guy, you wouldn’t have changed after work,” I pointed out.
“Stop talking to me,” Thistle said. “I need to think.”
I left Clove to calm Thistle down and changed into a pair of jeans and a flattering vee-neck shirt. I grabbed my Harry Potter hoodie before leaving the guesthouse. I figured Clove’s more even nature would help calm Thistle down before Marcus got there.
When I opened the door, though, I slammed into Marcus’ broad chest and found myself rethinking my previous assertion. “Hey,” he greeted me in surprise.
“Hi Marcus,” I said a little too loudly. “You’re right on time.” Promptness is a great trait to possess – except when your date is freaking out thirty feet away.
“I thought that was a good thing?” Marcus looked confused.
“It is,” I scrambled to keep him involved in conversation and away from the threshold to the guesthouse.
I could see Thistle and Clove manically gathering all the discarded clothes in the reflection on the front window. I grimaced when I saw them toss the clothes into my room instead of Thistle’s. “So, you’re going to the bonfire?”
“Yeah. You?”
“I’m on my way there now,” I said cheerily.
Marcus narrowed his eyes when he heard something crash in the other room. “What was that?”
“What? I didn’t hear anything.”
“You didn’t hear that big crash? Are you sure everything is okay in there?”
I could see Clove had stumbled over the coffee table and was sprawled on the floor. Thistle was impatiently trying to pull her up off the floor, while simultaneously pinching her on the shoulder to admonish her clumsiness.
“It’s fine,” I lied.
Marcus waited for a minute, but when he realized I wasn’t moving out of the doorway he furrowed his brow. “Should I leave and come back in a few minutes or something?”
That actually might be helpful. I figured if I told him that, though, he might think we were crazy or something.
“No, I’m ready,” I heard Thistle’s voice as she stepped up beside me.
Marcus visibly relaxed when he saw Thistle. “You look great,” he said. I could tell he meant it.
“Oh, thank you,” Thistle said dismissively. “I just threw on the first thing I saw in my closet.”
I cast her a sidelong glance but didn’t say anything. Thistle may be intent on impressing Marcus, but that wouldn’t stop her from wrestling me to the ground and making me eat dirt from the flowerbed if I pissed her off. Then I would really be late.
I stepped aside to let Thistle out, casting a glance back inside to see what Clove was doing. She was rubbing her shoulder where Thistle had pinched her and looking murderous.
I closed the door behind Thistle and started towards my car. “See you at the bonfire.”
“Aren’t you taking Clove with you?” Thistle asked.
I paused. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Then how is she going to get there?”
I regarded Thistle and Marcus for a second. “I guess I’m waiting for Clove.”
Thistle and Marcus headed for his car without a second glance. I walked back into the guesthouse and cast a glance at Clove. “Hurry up.”
“Why do I have to hurry?”
“Because if you don’t, I’m not giving you a ride and then you won’t be able to spy on Marcus and Thistle all night.”
Clove met my gaze steadily. “Give me five minutes.”
Nine
When we got to the bonfire, I was surprised at how busy the downtown area was. Tourists usually got into the cheesy fun, but this was ridiculous. I ultimately had to park behind the paper and Clove and I walked to the town square.
“You should have just dropped me off,” Clove grumbled.
“Why is that?”
“I didn’t wear boots with walking in mind.”
I glanced down at her spiked heels and couldn’t help but agree. “And why did you wear those?”
“They give me three full inches,” Clove said proudly.
“That makes you a little more than five feet tall,” I pointed out.
“It�
��s better than being four foot eleven and a half,” she said dismissively.
She had a point.
When we got to the square, Clove headed straight for the hot cider booth. I followed her, even though I didn’t like cider. The crowd was thick, and I was worried I would lose her if we separated.
“I can’t believe how many people are here,” Clove said, sipping on her hot cider.
“I know, it’s crazy,” I agreed.
“It looks like every inn in the area is booked solid,” Clove added, scanning the crowd.
“Yeah. That’s good for the town.”
“That’s good for all of us,” Clove agreed.
We lapsed into an amiable silence, happy to just watch the crowd enjoying themselves and listen to the band strumming in the gazebo. I felt Clove stiffen next to me after a few minutes.
“What is it?”
“Brian is here,” she exclaimed breathily.
“Great.”
Clove ignored my sarcasm. “You should be nice to him. He’s going to be your boss for a long time.”
“That’s not why you want me to be like him,” I said snarkily.
“He’s really handsome, isn’t he?”
I followed her gaze and grimaced when I found Brian in the center of the crowd. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he was clearly trying to schmooze Mrs. Little. I couldn’t help but notice that the elderly businesswoman didn’t look all that impressed with his charm.
“I guess,” I shrugged. “If you like that kind of guy.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
I looked Brian up and down, taking in his khaki pants and boat shoes, and couldn’t hide my shudder. “He’s just not my cup of tea.”
“So you don’t like him at all?” Clove asked. I couldn’t help but notice the hopeful tone in her voice. The three of us had made a pact a long time ago that we would never pursue the same guy. We didn’t want to end up like our mothers – in more ways than one.
“Not even a little,” I promised. “He’s all yours.”
“I’m not interested in him,” Clove said a little too hastily.
“Don’t lie,” I admonished her. “Oh, look, here he comes.”
Brian had caught sight of Clove and me in the crowd and was heading for us with a clear purpose. ‘You’re here,” he said. “I was worried.”
“Why were you worried?”
“I didn’t want you to miss the story.”
“I wouldn’t miss the story,” I said shortly.
“Hi,” Clove greeted him nervously.
“Hi,” Brian said, his warm eyes meeting Clove’s. I wasn’t sure if he actually liked her or if he felt the need to charm everyone he crossed paths with. In truth, I wasn’t sure which outcome I was rooting for. I wanted Clove to be happy, but Brian just rubbed me the wrong way.
Brian turned and watched the crowd. I couldn’t help but wish he’d go some place else. I didn’t think that was a good sign for our working relationship.
“This is great,” Brian said enthusiastically. “I can’t believe how many people are here.”
“Yeah, it’s a great turnout,” I echoed hollowly.
“Yeah, a town full of crazies celebrating a murder mystery. Not odd at all.”
I froze when I heard the voice. I recognized it instantly. I had spent the better part of the past month trying to forget it. I turned around slowly, trying to refrain from gasping out loud at the sight of the man that was standing behind me.
I would have recognized him anywhere. His shoulder length black hair was perfect and shiny under the pale lights. His blue eyes were twinkling. His mouth was spread into a wide grin.
“Landon,” I greeted him in what I hoped sounded like a normal voice. The last time I had seen him he’d been in a hospital bed after rescuing me and the rest of my family from two crazed murderers and a gang of angry drug dealers.
“Bay,” Landon smiled at me uncertainly. He looked like he had been expecting a warmer greeting – like me stripping naked and jumping him in the town square or something.
“Hi, Landon,” Clove chirped from my side.
“Hey, Clove,” Landon slid a smile in her direction and then turned back to me. “How are things?”
“Things are great,” I said with faux brightness. “Things couldn’t be better.”
“You seem a little tense,” Landon pointed out.
“I’m not tense,” I lied. The truth was, the emotions that were warring inside of me were more akin to rage and lust. I mentally smacked myself for both of them. This man had no control over my emotions, I reminded myself. None at all.
Landon regarded me seriously. “Fine, you’re not tense.” He turned to Clove. “What’s wrong with her?”
Clove bit her lower lip. “I think she’s mad that you didn’t call.”
I glared at Clove. “I am not,” I snapped. “And this is why Thistle thinks you’re a blabbermouth.”
Clove held up her hands submissively. “I could be making that up,” she said lamely.
Landon’s eyes twinkled. “Are you making it up? And remember, I’m a duly sworn officer of the federal government and it’s a crime to lie to me.”
Clove swallowed hard and shifted her eyes between Landon and me. She clearly felt trapped.
“Don’t lie to her,” I snapped at Landon.
“I’m not lying. It is a federal crime.”
“Only when you’re investigating a crime,” I replied snottily.
“I am investigating a crime. You stole my heart.”
Clove giggled appreciatively. “That was smooth.”
“You like that?” Landon asked mischievously.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Brian had been watching the interaction between the three of us with obvious distaste. I had a feeling that the testosterone was getting ready to fly.
“I’m Landon Michaels,” Landon held his hand out to Brian. “And you are?”
Brian took it cautiously. “Brian Kelly. The new owner of The Whistler.”
Landon looked Brian up and down. “You’re Bay’s new boss?”
“Among other things.”
Landon narrowed his bright eyes. “What other things?”
Yeah, what things?
“Just things,” Brian said evasively.
Landon turned back to me suspiciously. “What things?”
“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” I said honestly. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why I was explaining myself to the guy who had disappeared from a hospital bed and engaged in silent warfare for the past month.
“Bay’s just being coy,” Brian said, slinging an arm around my shoulders.
I frowned at him openly, stepping away from him. “No, I’m not.”
Landon smiled smugly at Brian. “I think Bay and I need to catch up. You don’t mind if I borrow her for a few minutes, do you?”
Landon had phrased it as a question, but the aggressive stance he had taken practically dared Brian to defy him. Brian looked like he was going to argue for a minute and then backed away quickly. “No. Of course not.”
Landon grabbed my elbow and guided me a few feet away, not stopping until we were alone in front of Hypnotic. “He seems obnoxious.”
“Are you talking about yourself in the third person now?”
Landon grimaced – although it crossed on a smile. His dimples looked like they were coming out to play for a minute, but they quickly disappeared. “Why are you mad at me?”
“I’m not mad,” I lied.
“You don’t look happy to see me?”
“Why should I?” I challenged him.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I saved your life?”
“Oh, please,” I sighed. “How long are you going to play that card?”
“It happened a month ago.”
“And I haven’t seen you in that month,” I said bitterly. “I’ve moved on.”
Landon smiled openly now. “Did you miss me?”
Yes. “No
t at all.”
“I think you’re lying,” Landon said, reaching out and tweaking a lock of my blonde hair and leaning in uncomfortably close.
I wanted to put some room between us, but I didn’t want to seem weak. Instead, I met his gaze solidly. “Why would I lie? I barely know you?”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t want to see what I look like naked?”
I ran my eyes up and down his impressive body for a second. I actually wouldn’t mind seeing that. “I can’t think of anything more repulsive.”
Landon looked at me knowingly. “Give it time. You’ll warm up to me again.”
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Why?”
“I’m back on the job now. I’ll be around a lot more.”
“In Hemlock Cove? I doubt it.”
“Never say never,” he teased me. “Any minute now there could be a brutal murder and my special talents could be of some use.” His mouth was inches from my ear and I felt myself involuntarily shiver.
I opened my mouth to tell him it would be a cold day in hell before I would see his special talents up close and personal – or at least a few hours – when a shrill scream punctuated the air.
Landon and I both looked up in surprise when we saw a dark figure stumble into the square. I couldn’t be sure in the dark, but I was almost positive it was Ken Trask, the local banker.
Landon moved toward the sound of the disturbance purposely. I was right on his heels.
“What’s going on?” He asked when he got to Ken’s side.
Up close, I realized that Ken’s face was flushed with sweat and he was almost as white as a ghost. “There’s a body,” he choked out.
“Where?” Landon looked around dubiously. I think he thought Ken had been partaking in Mrs. Gunderson’s “special” cider. “Isn’t the whole point of this week to play murder mystery?”
“That’s not supposed to happen until this weekend,” I said.
Landon glanced at me, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t look convinced.
“Where is the body?” I asked Ken.
“Behind the stage,” Ken said. “Over by the library.”
Landon moved in the direction Ken had pointed. He didn’t look back to see if I was following him. I could hear him grumbling as he moved, but I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. I slammed into his back when he pulled up short. “Ow,” I muttered, rubbing my nose.
Every Witch Way But Wicked (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery) Page 5
