“I’m definitely up for breakfast. What do you want to do after that? I was thinking a quiet day in bed might be a nice celebration for both of us.”
“In bed?” Ivy furrowed her brow. “We can’t celebrate in bed.”
For the first time since she woke him, Jack sensed trouble. He tried to push it out of his mind, but it niggled all the same. “Why can’t we celebrate in bed?”
“Because we have to repeat what we did when we first met.”
“Yell at each other?” Jack wasn’t keen on an argument, although he wasn’t opposed to one later in the day. Most people didn’t like arguing with their significant other, but Jack and Ivy treated it like a sport … and they were both gold medalists. “Can’t we just skip that part?”
“Not that.” Ivy flicked Jack’s strong chin. “I’m talking about the other thing.”
“What other thing?” Jack was honestly confused.
“It’s not just the anniversary of when we met,” Ivy reminded him. “It’s also the first day when we should start seeing morels pop up.”
The reality hit Jack like a brick as it settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew that brick would remain as long as Ivy had a window for mushroom hunting because she would add morels to every recipe and Jack was convinced they tasted like … well, something he didn’t want to eat.
“Oh, not the feet mushrooms.” Jack slapped his hand to his forehead, his earlier excitement diminishing. “Honey, we can’t spend our entire anniversary hunting for mushrooms.”
“Not the entire anniversary,” Ivy conceded. “We’re having breakfast together, too. Plus, I thought I would cook a romantic dinner.”
Jack moved his hand so he could look Ivy dead in the face. “You’re going to make me eat the feet mushrooms for dinner, aren’t you?”
“They don’t taste like feet,” Ivy argued. “I don’t think you gave them a fair shot last year.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jack snagged one of Ivy’s feet and moved it so he could kiss the soft sole. She always slept with her bare feet poking out of the covers so her toes were icy when he kissed them. “I would rather eat these feet than those stinky mushrooms.”
“Come on, Jack.” Ivy adopted a whining tone as she squirmed. “The morels are only around for a few weeks. If you don’t want to go hunting with me … .”
“Did I say that?” Jack cocked a challenging eyebrow. “We can hunt for the ridiculous mushrooms. I’m fine with it.”
Now it was Ivy’s turn to be dubious. “If you don’t want to go … .”
“No, no.” Jack wagged a finger. “We’re going. We’re simply going to do something else first.”
“What’s that?”
Jack caught Ivy around the waist, causing her to squeal as he flipped her over and pressed her to the mattress. “You’re going to reward me for the feet mushrooms before we even leave this room.”
Ivy, a little breathless, giggled. “I can probably be persuaded to do that.”
“Then I’d better start persuading.”
Two
“I just love this place.”
Zander was bubbly as he surveyed the rustic hotel lobby. He’d been the one to choose the location when talk of a joint vacation popped up. Harper and Jared made their opinions known but ultimately let Zander make the decision because it was easier than arguing with him. Given the expression on his face, Harper knew he was happy with the choice so she was fine letting him gloat.
“It’s definitely a pretty place,” Harper agreed, glancing over her shoulder at the group of excitable guests standing in a clump by the front door. “It’s busier than I thought it would be, though. It seems early in the season.”
Helen Harrington, the owner of the hotel, stood behind the counter as she checked them in. She’d been listening to the conversation with half an ear and now she inserted herself for the first time. “It’s morel season.”
Harper pursed her lips. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Morels? Like the mushrooms?” Zander was equally confused. “I didn’t know they had a season.”
Helen snorted. “Of course they have a season. Morels are big business for the next month.”
“How so?” Jared leaned against the counter as he waited for Helen to scan his credit card. “Aren’t morels mushrooms?”
If Helen was bothered by Jared’s tone, she didn’t show it. “They’re not just any mushrooms. For some, morels are the best mushrooms available. The fact that we can pick them locally is an added benefit.”
“Pick them?” Zander wasn’t big on outdoorsy activities so he was understandably flummoxed. “So … how does that work? People come up here, rent rooms, and then pick mushrooms for days on end?”
Helen bobbed her head. “It’s turned into something of a big deal in these parts.”
“Mushroom picking?” Zander remained unconvinced, as if Helen was playing out some elaborate prank and he was going to be the butt of the joke.
Helen grinned. “You’re from the south. You don’t get it because it’s not as big of a thing down there, although I believe there are some groups in the Thumb who go nuts for morels, too. Up here, it’s a lifestyle.”
“What do they even taste like?” Shawn asked. He’d been largely disinterested in the conversation until this point. Still, he was amused by Zander’s reaction so he was willing to play along. “Do they taste like portabellas or something?”
“No, they have their own unique taste,” Helen replied. “They definitely don’t taste like portabellas. If you’re interested, I’m sure some of the area restaurants will have them on special over the next few days. I know we’re trying to get some for our dining room. Local pickers sell the mushrooms to restaurants and it’s a big draw when the restaurants change up their menus.”
“I’m kind of fascinated by this,” Harper admitted after a beat. “What do they look like?”
Helen grabbed a brochure from the end of the counter and passed it to Harper. “We ordered these to hand out to guests. They explain how you tell the difference between safe and poisonous varieties, how to pick them correctly, and even how to cook them.”
Harper accepted the brochure, leaning against Jared as she flipped through it. Jared watched, curious, over her shoulder.
“I’ve seen those mushrooms before,” Jared said. “I can’t say I’ve ever tasted them, though. Do people really spend all their time out in the woods looking for mushrooms when they’re on vacation?”
“I don’t think you grasp the morel culture.” Helen’s eyes sparkled. “I wasn’t exaggerating when I said it’s a big deal around these parts. In fact, I think you’re the only guests who aren’t here on a morel search.”
Zander balked. “The parking lot is full, though.”
“The hotel is full,” Helen said. “I assumed when you guys registered that’s what you would be doing.”
“We’re here to go on several wine-tasting tours,” Harper supplied. “I think our first one is scheduled for tomorrow.”
“We like picking wine,” Zander said dryly.
“Still, this looks kind of interesting.” Harper’s expression was hard to read as she flicked her eyes to Jared. “What do you think?”
Jared shrugged. His vacation plans were already in the toilet thanks to Zander’s presence. “The woods up here are supposed to be beautiful, plenty of rivers and lakes and stuff. We can look for mushrooms if you want.”
Zander balked. “I don’t want to look for mushrooms.”
“Then don’t go,” Jared fired back, his temper flaring. “This vacation isn’t just about you.”
“Hey!” Zander wasn’t one to back down. “I was simply voicing my opinion. Harper doesn’t want to hunt for mushrooms either.”
“I didn’t say that,” Harper shot back. “I’m actually interested in hunting mushrooms, if only to say we did it. We don’t have a wine tour set up for today anyway. There’s no harm in hanging out in the woods for a couple of hours.”
“But …
the woods are dirty.” Zander wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want to get dirty.”
“You don’t have to come with us, Zander.” Harper adopted a pragmatic tone she knew would set her best friend’s teeth on edge. “If you’re afraid of the woods … .”
Jared bit back a chuckle when he saw the murderous look on Zander’s face. Harper knew exactly how to play her friend to get what she wanted. It was something of a game the two friends engaged in when the mood struck.
“I didn’t say I was afraid of the woods,” Zander sputtered.
“That’s good.” Shawn clapped Zander’s shoulder. “I’m interested in seeing what’s out there, too. Why don’t we go upstairs, unpack, and then head out to do some mushroom hunting? I think it will be a fun adventure.”
Zander was caught and he knew it. He was outnumbered and he’d been outplayed. “That sounds fine,” he said stiffly.
Jared pressed his face into Harper’s neck to hide his smirk. “I can’t wait. This is going to be so much fun.” His shoulders shook with silent laughter as Harper spared him a glance.
“Don’t be mean,” Harper chided.
“I’m not being mean. I think this sounds like the best idea ever.” Jared turned his attention to Helen. “You don’t by any chance have maps for the best places to search, do you?”
Helen grinned. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Great,” Zander gritted out. “We’re going mushroom hunting. Whoopee!”
“THERE’S NOTHING OUT here.”
Jack stared blankly at a tree as Ivy keenly scanned the ground, an old pillowcase in her hand. They’d been hunting morels for what felt like forever. In real time, it had only been twenty minutes. Ivy had found a good fifty mushrooms since they hit the woods. Jack had yet to sight one.
“You’re not putting any effort into it,” Ivy chided. “You need to look at the base of the trees. And see … .” She scuffed her sneaker over some fallen leaves and revealed a grouping of eight mushrooms. “When the leaves pop up like that, it’s because something is growing beneath them.”
Jack watched as Ivy bent over to collect her prize. She generally wore floor-length ankle skirts and preferred running around barefoot – something she couldn’t do often during the hard winter – but she wore cargo pants and shoes today. For Jack, it was new insight into the woman he loved. They may have met at this time last year, but he fought his attraction to Ivy long enough to see the end of morel season before they started spending every possible waking moment with one another.
“How come you know so much about morel hunting?” Jack slowed his pace and stared at the ground, using the stick he carried to poke at some leaves and widening his eyes when he realized morels were poking through. “Hey, I found some.”
Ivy grinned as she moved to his side. “Good job. Now pick them and put them in your bag.”
Jack shifted his eyes to the pillowcase he carried. “This isn’t a bag. You haven’t told me why we need pillow cases for this.”
“Because paper bags would fall apart due to the moisture and plastic grocery bags are terrible for the environment. Old pillow cases are perfect … and they can be washed and used again.”
“Oh, my girl is always thinking, huh?” Jack smirked as he plucked the mushrooms, furrowing his brow as he held up one to stare at it. “You’re not going to make me eat this, are you?”
Ivy shrugged, noncommittal. “You don’t have to eat anything I cook.”
Jack recognized the tone. “That’s not what I meant. You’re an amazing cook.”
“Except for when it comes to morels,” Ivy grumbled under her breath.
“That’s the mushrooms’ fault, not your fault.” Jack refused to back down. “They taste like feet, honey. You can’t change that.”
“Then why are you even out here searching with me?” Ivy’s temper got the better of her – like it always did – and she planted her hands on her hips. “If you don’t want to be out here … .”
“Did I say that?” Jack and Ivy had a fiery relationship and it often involved squabbling. “I want to spend time with you on our anniversary. This is what you want to do. Therefore, I’m out here with you even though I hate the feet mushrooms with a passion.”
Ivy didn’t want to laugh. That would only encourage him, after all. She couldn’t stop herself. “I wish you would stop saying they taste like feet.”
“I would, but I promised to always tell you the truth.”
Ivy’s expression was rueful as she sidled up to Jack’s side. “Thank you for doing this. I know you hate it.”
“I don’t hate.” That was the truth. “I hate eating them, but I don’t hate searching for them. I like spending time with you. I don’t care what we do as long as we do it together.”
Ivy grinned, love blooming. “How about we come to a compromise?”
Ivy’s flirty tone had Jack instantly on alert. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’ll only cook the morels for me and you don’t have to eat them.”
“That sounds fair.”
“I’ll also get naked with you when we get home as something of a reward,” Ivy added.
Jack brightened considerably. “See. Now you’re thinking.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Jack leaned over and pressed a smoldering kiss to Ivy’s mouth. “How about a little preview?”
“Okay, but only for five minutes. It’s mushroom season and we’re on a timetable.”
“You know how I love being put on a timetable.”
“OH, WELL, THIS is just stupid.”
Zander, a stick clutched in his hand, made a disgusted face as Harper whooped and plucked a mushroom from the base of a tree. She carried the mushroom to Jared who held open a cloth bag they’d purchased at a local grocery store before heading out.
“We’re winning.” Harper beamed at Jared as she wiggled her butt. “We’re totally winning.”
“This isn’t a competition,” Zander barked, his temper wearing thin.
“You’re the one who said it was a competition when you found the first mushroom,” Jared pointed out. “You thought it was a fantastic game then.”
“The word I used was ‘fantabulous,’” Zander snapped. “I’ve since changed my mind, though.”
“I think that’s because you haven’t found a morel since,” Shawn offered. He carried their bag, which was about a third of the way full, as he scanned the ground. “I happen to like mushroom hunting. I think it’s relaxing. It’s almost Zen or something.”
“Zen?” Zander’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “There is nothing Zen about traipsing through the woods and fighting off bugs the size of my head. As if on cue, Zander slapped his hand to his neck. “We’re going to get ticks if we’re not careful. I have a thing about ticks. They’re dangerous and deadly.”
“We’ll make sure to check each other over when we’re done.” Harper’s tone was amiable and easy. “Ticks are easy enough to get rid of if you catch them early.”
“Plus, I don’t think it’s hot enough for ticks.” Jared linked his fingers with Harper’s as he tugged her toward an area they’d yet to search. “I believe the weather has to be warmer before ticks start sucking away like bloodthirsty little vampires.”
“Ha, ha,” Zander intoned. “Do you think that’s funny? Well, my friend, there is nothing funny about Lyme disease. Do you want to be chronically sick for the rest of your life? Think about it. Harper will be the strong one if you get sick and instead of loving you as a big, strong man, she’ll think of you as the burden she has to tend to because you can’t dump the guy with Lyme disease without getting a reputation.”
Jared heaved out a sigh. “I’m so glad we’re taking a group vacation. Have I mentioned that?”
Harper murdered him with a look while Shawn let loose with an amused chuckle.
“Zander, this would be a lot more fun if you stopped complaining,” Shawn noted. “Everyone else is having a good time but you. What do you think that means?”
“That you all were invaded by aliens when I wasn’t looking and now you’re pod people,” Zander answered without hesitation.
Harper giggled. “He can’t help himself. He likes to complain.”
“I don’t like to complain,” Zander shot back. “I like to tell the truth. There’s a difference.”
“And funnily enough it sounds like complaining,” Jared said, cutting through a small group of trees. “You need to just chill and … .” Jared broke off, pulling up short when he caught sight of a couple standing in the middle of the adjacent clearing.
The man was tall, almost unusually so, and he had his arms around a willowy woman with pink streaks in her hair. They were pressed tight together, mouths fused, and they seemed oblivious to everything and everyone surrounding them.
“Um … hmm.” Jared made an uncomfortable throat-clearing sound, causing the man to jerk up his head as the woman’s cheeks flooded with color. “Sorry. I just didn’t want the rest of my group to come barreling through and cause you to freak out.”
“No problem.” The man collected himself, keeping the woman close. “Um … are you out here hunting for morels or something?”
“Or something.” Jared felt uncomfortable as his gaze bounced between faces. “I’m really sorry.”
“Who are you talking to?” Harper moved to Jared’s side and peered through the bushes, widening her eyes when she caught sight of the couple. “I am so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” The pink-haired woman regrouped first. “I’m Ivy Morgan. This is Jack Harker. We’re just out looking for morels and kind of … um … got distracted.”
Harper smiled. “We’re looking for morels, too. Are you here on vacation?”
The question caused Ivy to shift from one foot to the other. “No. We live here.”
“Oh, fun.” Harper wasn’t one to be dissuaded and she pushed her way through the bushes, ignoring Jared’s protests.
“I think they want to be alone, Heart,” Jared admonished.
Harper pretended she didn’t hear him. “We’re from Whisper Cove, it’s a northern suburb of Detroit. I haven’t been in this area since I was a kid, though. We actually came for some wine tasting, but since everyone else was out looking for mushrooms we decided to do it, too,” Harper blurted.
Wicked Ghostly Seas: A Rowan Gray, Harper Harlow and Ivy Morgan Mystery Omnibus Page 2
