“Good morning.”
Landon brushed his lips against my forehead and stretched before returning his arm to my waist. “I feel so much better after a good night’s sleep. For some reason I don’t sleep well when I’m away from you.”
I lifted my eyebrows, surprised. He’s mushy when he wants to be, but rarely starts out the day with anything out than bacon worship and sexual innuendo. “Is that what’s bothering you?”
“What makes you think something is bothering me?”
“Because you were exhausted last night.” I saw no reason to deflect or pretend I wasn’t worried. “You drank more than usual and then you couldn’t wait to get into bed. You didn’t even try to play any tickling games.”
Landon made an odd sound in the back of his throat, something between a snort and a groan. “I love you dearly, woman, but it drives me crazy when you make something out of nothing.”
“I’m not making something out of nothing. I … .”
“Shh.” Landon pressed his finger to my lips. “I was tired, Bay. I didn’t sleep well while I was away. That’s another reason I’ll be happy when this move is complete. Then every night I’ll sleep well because I’ll be with you.”
It was a sweet sentiment, yet I couldn’t completely discard my misgivings. “Won’t you have to stay in a hotel while on a case at times?”
Landon nodded. “That will be the exception rather than the rule.”
“Your commute will be two hours each day,” I pointed out.
“Oh, geez.” Landon pinched the bridge of his nose as he rolled away from me and stared at the ceiling. “Are we going to have a serious discussion to start off our pajama weekend? That’s so not how I envisioned this visit going.”
“I’m just worried about you,” I admitted after a beat. “You were so tired last night you didn’t even care that someone was flying over Aunt Tillie’s special field.” I refrained from calling it a “pot” field because Landon’s eye twitched whenever I openly referred to my great-aunt breaking the law.
“What?” Landon knit his eyebrows as he considered the statement. “Is that what you were babbling about before we went to sleep?”
“Excuse me, but I don’t babble. The answer to your question is yes, though. I swear I saw someone flying over the field last night.”
“Uh-huh.” Landon slipped his hand under the covers and searched for my fingers. “Sweetie, have you considered that you had a dream and when you woke up you thought you were still in it?”
“No, because I never fell asleep,” I answered, my irritation bubbling up. “I was too busy wondering if you had a hard case and that’s why you were so exhausted. Then I felt guilty because I should’ve offered you a massage before you fell asleep. Then I let my imagination really get away with me and wondered if you didn’t tell me about your hard case because you didn’t trust me. So, you see, I never fell asleep, so I didn’t imagine the person flying over the field.”
That would show him.
Landon widened his eyes to comical proportions. “Wow. Your head is a very scary place sometimes, sweetie. Okay, um, where should I start? I did have a hard case last week, but it was hardly worse than any previous case – and easier in a lot of respects. It was a bank fraud job that caused me to spend eight hours a day looking at piles of numbers. It was annoying, but nowhere near difficult enough to give me an ulcer.
“Secondly, the massage would’ve been nice, but I was so tired that I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy it,” he continued. “You can give me the massage tonight. Oh, don’t bother arguing. Now you’ve mentioned it and I want it.”
I tried to swallow my smirk … and failed.
“As for the rest of it, the part of about me not telling you because I don’t trust you, that’s freaking out there.” Landon’s tone was firm. “If I needed to talk through it you would be the first person I call. It was a fraud case. Not only was it boring, it was also monotonous and would’ve ruined our nightly calls.
“I was tired because I packed all week and slept alone,” he continued. “That means I tossed and turned because I didn’t have your snoring to lull me to sleep. And before you say you don’t snore, remember that I took video of you doing it and I will show it to people if you’re not careful.
“There’s nothing nefarious going on here, Bay,” he said. “I was tired because I had a long week.”
I pressed my lips together, embarrassed. “Okay.” The word was barely a whisper when it escaped.
“Okay? No, you need to apologize and get me some bacon to make me feel better.” Landon’s eyes lit with mirth when I scowled. “I’m fine, Bay. I was simply tired from looking at numbers all week.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t stop myself from imagining the worst sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m happy and I feel as if something bad is going to happen to wipe away that happiness if I’m not careful. It feels somehow inevitable.”
Landon was silent as he considered the statement. To my surprise, he slipped his arm under my waist and tugged me on top of him rather than admonishing me. “I think it’s normal to for people to worry about stuff like that sometimes, so I’m going to let it go.”
I didn’t bother to hide my surprise. “Are you saying that I’m off the hook?”
“You were never on the hook.” Landon kissed the tip of my nose. “You’re allowed to worry. Next time, if you need to talk it out, I’d prefer if you called me instead of letting it build for days and then dumping it on me. That’s a small quibble, though.”
He had a point, still … . “I didn’t realize I was letting it build up,” I admitted. “I heard how tired you were when we were talking on the phone and I kind of pushed it out of my mind until you passed out and didn’t care that there was a guy flying over the property.”
Landon shook his head, amused. “Bay, no one was flying over the property. You dreamt it … or imagined it … or perhaps even a combination of both. But just for my curiosity, how do you know it was a guy?”
“He had broad shoulders and short hair.”
“So does Thistle.”
A hysterical giggle escaped as Landon tickled me and rolled on top of me. “I’m going to tell Thistle you said that,” I gasped, trying to evade his insistent fingers.
“Go ahead. She has her hands full being at the top of Aunt Tillie’s list. I’m not afraid of Thistle.”
“Those are bold words.”
“I can back them up.” Landon smacked a loud kiss on my lips. “Now, we’ve had our serious talk and even survived a side journey into the surreal. To make the morning complete, we need some loving and some bacon. What order do you want to do those in? By the way, if you say you want to combine those, no one will ever love you more than me.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s already true.”
Landon tilted his head to the side, his long hair dipping below his shoulder. “Good point. Loving it is. I’ll use the bacon to replenish my spent energy once we’re done.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
BY THE time we hit the inn we were both in good spirits. Landon chased me from the guesthouse to The Overlook – ostensibly to get our blood rushing to survive the long walk in the chilly air – but I had a feeling it was really because he was feeling frisky. We were full of laughter when we let ourselves into the family living quarters through the back door. Our good moods lasted until we ran into Aunt Tillie.
She sat in the middle of the couch, a thick book open on her lap, and stared at the morning news anchors as they regurgitated the local news. She seemed entranced by whatever they said. and it took me a moment to realize she was dressed in normal clothes and shoes.
“Are you sick?” I blurted out the question before I thought better of asking it. Aunt Tillie might take it as an insult. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the top of her list, especially before breakfast.
“What? No.” Aunt Tillie jerked her head in our direction, seemingly surprised to see u
s. “When did you get here?”
Okay, now I was certain something was going on with her. She was out of it. “Are you okay?” I rounded the corner of the couch and pressed my hand to her forehead before she could mount an argument. “You don’t feel warm.”
“I’m not sick,” Aunt Tillie sputtered, annoyed. She narrowed her eyes as she regarded me with cold detachment. “Why do you think I’m sick? I’m old, not decrepit.”
“It has nothing to do with your age,” I replied, scratching my cheek. “It’s just … you didn’t hear us come in. You usually insult Landon every morning before we head into the kitchen. You were watching the news instead of making fun of the anchors.”
“Well, they weren’t nearly as stupid this morning as they usually are,” Aunt Tillie sniffed.
“You’re not wearing leggings … or a combat helmet … or Army boots,” Landon added. He looked mildly worried himself. “You were up to something last night, too, and I doubt very much it had anything to do with Christmas shopping.”
“Oh, you’re so smart.” Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes. “How did we ever survive before we had your deductive skills at our beck and call?”
Landon remained unmoved by the insult. “Are you in trouble?”
“No!”
“Are you going to get in trouble before the day is out?”
“No!”
“Fine. We’ll leave you to it.” Landon grabbed my hand and jerked me toward the kitchen. “If you get arrested, I want you to remember this moment. I offered you help and you said that you didn’t need it. I won’t come swooping in later to save you.”
Aunt Tillie made a very unladylike sound in her throat. It reminded me of a very old cat that had hairball issues. “We both know that’s not true.”
All three of us knew that it wasn’t true, but I decided to let it go. I followed Landon through the kitchen and settled at the dining room table in time to see Mom, Marnie and Twila putting out all of the morning fixings. Thistle and Marcus were suspiciously absent, but the guests were excitable and raring to go.
“It’s going to be a big day, right?” The woman who asked the question – I was fairly certain she introduced herself as Erin Ackerman the night before – had sparkling blue eyes and was aflutter with eagerness.
“It is,” I confirmed, bobbing my head.
“Why is it going to be a big day?” Landon asked, tossing at least eight slices of bacon on his plate before handing the platter to me. “What’s going on in Hemlock Cove this weekend?”
“We have a festival,” Twila replied.
“Hemlock Cove always has a festival,” Landon pointed out. “What festival are we dealing with this week? Are we worshipping turkeys, potatoes or pumpkin pie?”
“Put them all together and you have the best festival ever,” I teased, grinning when he squeezed my knee under the table. “Give me a bite of your bacon.”
Landon’s smile slipped. “Get your own bacon.”
“I thought you said you would give me the world,” I challenged. “You said you loved me more than anything. I think that deserves some bacon.”
“The platter is right there.”
“I want your bacon.”
Landon tugged on his bottom lip, clearly sensing a trap. “This is some whacked out woman crap I’m never going to understand, isn’t it?” he muttered, sliding half his bacon onto my plate. “Are you happy?”
I nodded, pushing the bacon platter in his direction. “I was simply curious about if you would actually do it.”
“And since your mother never runs out of bacon, that’s why I did it,” Landon muttered, grabbing six new slices for his plate. “Women are freaking crazy sometimes. I don’t get you guys.”
“Word,” Aunt Tillie intoned, taking her seat at the head of the table. “I don’t get them either.”
“Oh, well, now I’m terrified that we agree on something,” Landon said.
“Don’t get your panties in a wad, because I don’t understand men either,” Aunt Tillie offered. “I only understand myself. In fact, there are times I believe I’m the only rational person in the universe.”
“Oh, well, that’s just … .” Landon didn’t finish the sentence, instead stuffing two full slices of bacon into his mouth and focusing on chewing. I was amused despite the childish nature of their interaction.
“To answer your question, it’s just a small festival this week,” I volunteered. “The biggest attraction will be the new wishing well.”
Landon arched an eyebrow and swallowed. “Wishing well? I would’ve thought Hemlock Cove already had a wishing well.”
“We did a long time ago,” I replied. “It had to be sealed because it was deep and the walls were crumbling. People kept trying to climb inside to steal the coins.”
“Yes, Paul Abernathy,” Aunt Tillie intoned. “He was a freaking idiot. You remind me of him a little, Landon.”
Landon ignored the jab. “So you’re getting a new wishing well and you’re having a ceremony or something for it?”
I nodded. “We’re unveiling it today.”
“Does that mean you have to cover it for The Whistler?” The Whistler is the newspaper where I spend my working days. Recently I’d gone from editor to owner, although that was still a learning process. It essentially meant I did everything I did before – including writing articles – plus handled advertising issues. Most of the articles amounted to little more than fluff pieces, but occasionally I covered something larger. I hoped that wouldn’t be the case this weekend.
“I assigned the event to a photographer, but I will probably have to at least stop by for a few color quotes,” I admitted, uncomfortable. “I know that cuts into your pajama plans, but … I didn’t realize before – and I forgot last night – and now I’m kind of caught.”
“It’s fine.” Landon winked to reassure me. “They’ll have hot chocolate and doughnuts, right?”
I nodded. “Always.”
“Then I’m good.”
“Are you sure? If you want to hang back and take a nap I’ll totally understand.”
Landon made a frustrated sound deep in his throat as he shook his head. “I’m going with you. I slept ten hours last night. I’m good.”
“Okay, but … you might have to toss a coin in the well and make a wish. Everyone attending is expected to do that.”
“I’m sure I can figure out something to wish for.”
“I’m guessing it will be bacon,” Mom said, shaking her head when she realized Landon’s plate was empty.
“That shows what you know,” Landon teased. “I’m wishing for Bay to turn into a slice of bacon. That’s completely different.”
“Don’t you dare!” Aunt Tillie’s vehemence took everyone by surprise, and when I risked a glance in her direction I realized her knuckles were white because she gripped her utensils so hard.
“Aunt Tillie, are you okay?” Twila asked, concern etching her features. “Do you feel sick to your stomach?”
Aunt Tillie recovered quickly. She always did, of course, and when she spoke again she appeared calm. “I was just messing around with ‘The Man,” she offered. “It’s one of the little games we play.”
Landon stared at her for a few moments, his face unreadable. Finally he relaxed and reached for the bacon platter. “Yes, I do love our games. I love them almost as much as doughnuts and hot chocolate.”
I forced worry for Aunt Tillie out of my mind and focused on Landon. “They’ll have warm pie, too.”
“And we have a winner.” Landon’s smile was sloppy as he chewed. “I love this wackadoodle town. You guys will celebrate anything … and pie is almost always part of the celebration. I can’t wait to live here full time.”
I wish you would shove a towel in your mouth and stop that darned noise. You may think that’s a conversational tone, but all I hear is ‘blah, blah, I think I’ll whine for a few minutes, blah.’
– Aunt Tillie warning eight-year-old Clove to be quiet while they stalked Mrs
. Little
Four
“Okay, I’m not going to lie, by Hemlock Cove’s standards this is a very boring festival.”
Landon glanced around the sparsely populated town square and made a face as I handed him a cup of hot chocolate.
“I think you’re spoiled because all of the other festivals are so good,” I countered. “This festival simply can’t live up to the lofty standards already set.”
“I miss the kissing booth.” Landon has a one-track mind when he’s in a certain mood, and he was clearly in that mood today. “I think there’s something magical about a town that actually creates a booth with the express interest of giving me a private place in the middle of chaos to make out with my girl.”
I ran my tongue over my teeth as I cast a sidelong look in his direction. “We can make out in the truck on the ride home if you’re so inclined.”
“Don’t make offers you’re not willing to keep.”
“Who says I’m not willing to keep it?”
Despite himself, Landon looked intrigued. “Okay, well, we have a plan. Hurry up and conduct your interviews so we can get out of here. It hasn’t even snowed yet and I’m already freezing. I’m not a big fan of winter.”
“I noticed,” I said dryly, my mind floating back to the previous winter. “I remember the first time you were with Aunt Tillie when she plowed the snow.”
The corners of Landon’s mouth tipped down. “Did you have to remind me of that? Ugh. It’s going to give me nightmares.”
I couldn’t help but snicker. He was adorable when he whined. “You threatened to throw her in jail.”
“I haven’t ruled out throwing that woman in jail,” Landon cautioned. “She’s up to something right now and I’m pretty sure it’s illegal.”
My mind traveled back to Aunt Tillie’s weird behavior. I wanted to argue Landon’s point – mostly because I was hoping to protect our private weekend time – but I couldn’t deny his observation. “She’s definitely acting off. I can’t figure it out. What do you think she had in the bag?”
Make A Witch Page 3
