Landon ran his thumb over his bottom lip as he studied the teenager in question. “Are you sure? He looks like he has plenty of options in his own age group.”
Wait a second … . “Did you just call me old?”
Landon realized his mistake too late and averted his eyes from my accusatory gaze. “I think you’re lovely and beautiful.”
“But old.”
“Oh, geez. Talking to a woman is like navigating a minefield. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Now my pajama day will be ruined.”
I took pity on him. “You can still have your pajama day. The massage is off the table, though.”
“That’s fine. I’ll massage you. We’ll get to the same ending no matter who is rubbing who. Wait … that came out a lot filthier than I expected.”
“Yeah, maybe you should lay off the sugar,” I suggested. “I’ll talk to Nelson and get a quick quote – and he does have a crush on me – and you can wait here and think about how old I am. How does that sound?”
“You think you’re punishing me, but all that’s going to ensure is that someone shoves another cup of hot chocolate in my hand when you’re not looking,” Landon pointed out. “I can’t be left to my own devices. The women here love me, and I have no willpower when it comes to food.”
He wasn’t wrong. I’d seen him in action too many times to discount the possibility that every single woman in the immediate area would descend on him with chocolate goodies the second my back was turned. “Fine. You can go with me. If you flirt with those girls, though, I’ll make you pay.”
“Yes, because I often hit on teenagers.”
“I didn’t say you’d hit on them. But the second they see you, they’ll forget poor Nelson. If he cries, I’ll have to hug him. Don’t take it the wrong way if he tries to look down my shirt.”
Landon guffawed loudly. “Oh, we’re such a fun couple. I don’t know why we don’t spend weekends doing things like this more often.”
“Because you would rather have pajama weekends.”
“Oh, once it’s just the two of us, we’re going to turn it into naked weekends,” Landon promised, brightening at the picture he was painting in his head. “We’ll take it one step at a time, though. I don’t want to get you excited before we can actually enjoy the activity.”
“Yes, well … um … what was I going to do again?” My cheeks flushed with color as Landon smirked.
“You’re going to interview that kid.” Landon pointed at Nelson. “Then you’re going to make a wish so we can get out of here.”
I studied the handsome planes of his face for a moment, my heart warming. “I don’t need to make a wish. I have everything I want.”
Landon’s expression softened as he lowered his forehead to mine. “Me too.” He kissed the tip of my nose before pulling away. “Now hurry up. The longer you screw around the longer we’ll be kept away from the fireplace.”
“You’re the one who keeps distracting me.”
“Yes, but it’s cute when I do it. Go.”
I pasted a bright smile on my face as I approached Nelson, hoping the normally shy boy wouldn’t balk at answering questions. I had to pick my way through the gaggle of girls surrounding him and I couldn’t help but wonder why Nelson was suddenly so popular. That seemed to go against what I saw daily when he walked through town alone.
“Hey, Nelson, can I get a quote from you for the newspaper?”
Nelson jerked up his head, his strawberry blond hair flopping to the side as his face registered surprise. “Bay, I’m so happy to see you. Of course you can interview me for the newspaper.”
“You should take his photo, too.” One of the girls, I was fairly certain her name was Hannah Freeman, giggled as she smiled adoringly at Nelson. “If you put Nelson’s face on the front page of the newspaper you’ll sell out every copy in, like, five minutes.”
“Definitely,” one of the other girls agreed, bobbing her head. “I know I would buy ten of them myself … and put them in frames … and kiss them before I go to sleep every night.”
“I would rather kiss the real Nelson every night.” Hannah sighed wistfully. “Numerous times.”
“Me, too.”
Huh. That was weird, right? I stepped between the two girls to cut them off from one another in case they decided to attack and start pulling hair. I glanced over my shoulder and locked gazes with Landon, hoping he was as baffled as me. He looked more amused than annoyed, so I shook myself out of my reverie and focused on Nelson.
“I just need to know why you attended the wishing well dedication,” I prodded.
“Oh, sure.” Nelson flashed a benevolent smile as his gaze bounced between the members of his odd little harem. “Ladies, if you go over to the hot chocolate stand, I’ll be happy to join you there in a few minutes.”
“Okay.”
The girls giggled in unison as they scampered in that direction, exchanging heated whispers as they made cooing sounds that made my stomach twist.
“They seem … energetic,” I offered, unbelievably confused. Nelson was a ridiculously sweet kid, but I’d never thought of him as the sort of boy who would attract vapid female attention. “Are you tutoring them?”
Landon slapped his hand to his forehead and shook his head as realization washed over me. That was a mean and insulting thing to say. Hmm. Perhaps I was channeling Aunt Tillie.
“I mean … are you um … dating all of them?”
If Nelson was bothered by the question he didn’t show it. “I like to keep my options open.” Nelson’s neck was so thin it almost looked transparent when he shifted under the bright sun. “I sometimes find that I’m in the mood for a blonde … other times a brunette. I don’t like being forced to settle for one thing.”
“Uh-huh.” Nelson’s reaction was beyond odd. I cast a furtive glance at Landon and found that he’d sobered, although only marginally. “So, um, why did you come to the big unveiling?”
“I’ve always been a fan of town activities,” Nelson offered.
I narrowed my eyes. “Why really?”
“My mom is running the hot chocolate stand.”
“Mira?” Landon brightened. “Lovely woman.”
“Don’t push me,” I muttered, annoyed. “So, Nelson, did you at least enjoy the unveiling?”
“Oh, I had a great time,” Nelson replied. “It was cold, but my girls kept me warm and filled me with hot chocolate. I have no complaints. It was much better than last night when I stopped by to polish the plaque – Mrs. Little conned my mother into volunteering my services – and I was here alone. I swear I kept thinking I heard something in the woods.
“It turns out I did hear something in the woods,” he continued. “Some of the other kids from my class were out here drinking, and everyone decided to start making wishes on the well because … well … it’s Hemlock Cove and there was nothing else to do on a November night.”
I could see that. “Oh, so you made the first wish last night?”
“I think I was actually the third or fourth wish. There were a few kids before me. Still, it was kind of fun. But this was better.” He cast a longing look in the direction of the girls, who seemed to sense his eyes on them, because they all started waving in giddy unison. “So much better.”
I didn’t know what to make of the situation. “Okay, well, can you give me a clean quote for this week’s edition?”
“Oh, right.” Nelson shook his head and turned his eyes to me. “I think the wishing well was a great idea and I’m very thankful to Mrs. Little for making it happen. It’s a great addition to the Hemlock Cove downtown area. Does that work?”
“That’s perfect.”
“Great.” Nelson patted my arm before moving toward his girls. “You’ll always have a special place in my heart, Bay. I really want you to know that.”
I jutted out my lower lip as I watched him bounce toward his girlfriends, shifting my chin in Landon’s direction when I felt him move up beside me. “That was weird, right?”
Landon shrugged. “I don’t know. If I knew girls did that in high school I would’ve totally taken advantage.”
“Yes, but … why are the girls doing that?”
“Maybe he paid them.”
I made a disgusted face and flicked the red ridge of Landon’s ear, causing him to grumble as he jerked away from me. “Hey! It’s cold out. Are you trying to break my ear?”
“Whatever,” I muttered. “Nelson is a good kid and he has real friends. I’ve seen him with them. What I haven’t seen is … that.” I gestured toward the girls as one of them threw her arms around Nelson’s neck and pressed her ample breasts to his chest. “Seriously. What is going on?”
Landon snorted, my discomfort clearly entertaining him. “Maybe geeks are in. You can never tell what a girl will like from day to day. I’m thankful you even remember my name when we wake up each morning.”
“Oh, puh-leez.” I rolled my eyes, shifting my attention to a group of women on the other side of the well. There had to be at least eight of them, all grouped around Mrs. Little as she told some story that looked to be as boring as her speech. “And what’s up with that? That can’t be normal either, right?”
Landon followed my gaze, his face blank. “Yeah, that’s definitely weird. I can’t think anyone would put up with that woman without being paid.”
“She looks … popular.” It took me a moment to find the proper word, and when I did it seemed alien in reference to Mrs. Little.
“The same with your boyfriend Nelson,” Landon added. “I especially liked how he told you that you’d always have a special place in his heart.”
“Yeah, that did make me feel old.”
“Oh, my poor sweetie.” Landon slung an arm over my shoulders. “Do you have enough or do we need to find another person to quote?”
“I’m good. Nelson gave me more than I needed. Wait … that came out wrong.”
Landon snickered. “Don’t worry about it. I think he’s getting his own load of dirty suggestions from his friends.”
I cringed when one of the girls stuck her tongue in Nelson’s ear. “Okay, yeah, we’re done.”
“I’ll let you do that to me if we go home right now.”
“You still have to massage me.”
“I figure we can find a way to do both.”
“Deal.”
Clove is putting together her list for Santa, which is a crock because he’s not real. She says she wants new shoes, a new computer and world peace. I think she just threw in that “world peace” crap because she’s a suck-up. I wish people weren’t allowed to suck up, because then I would totally be normal.
– Thistle Winchester, age 13, explaining why Clove isn’t downstairs helping with chores
Six
“This wasn’t what I had in mind when I pictured us spending the day together.”
Landon, my feet propped in his lap so he could rub them, reclined on the couch in The Overlook’s library and gave me a dirty look as I tapped my article into my laptop.
“You said you wanted me to finish this so we could focus on each other,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, but I thought that focus would be somehow … dirtier.”
“I can stand in mud and make my feet dirtier, if that helps.”
Landon scowled. “You’re being a pain today. I think it’s because your boyfriend dissed you.”
“Whose boyfriend dissed who?” Thistle asked, wandering into the library with Marcus. “By the way, Aunt Tillie is totally up to something. I just caught her coming out of her greenhouse with a bag of supplies. When I asked her what she was doing she told me to mind my own business or she would make me smell like deer urine.”
“And since it’s hunting season, that means Thistle would be very popular in the woods,” Marcus added.
“Well, that’s a lovely visual.” Landon dug his thumbs into the sore soles of my feet. “How big was the bag?”
“Not very big,” Thistle replied. “Purse-sized maybe. She seemed annoyed when she realized we’d caught her and then denied we actually saw her. She told us we were hallucinating.”
“See, that right there makes me very nervous,” Landon said, shaking his head. “She’s generally proud to own up to the crap she does. She’s hiding it now, so it must be really bad.”
“She’s hidden things before,” I offered, hitting the spell check button on my laptop and watching it scroll through. “When we were kids she hid the fact that she cursed the property line to make people think they were animals. Anyone who crossed onto our property thought they were a barn animal.”
“Yes, I especially liked it when Chief Terry started clucking like a chicken,” Thistle drawled. “Although, he often sounds like a chicken to me, so … .”
“You take that back,” I threatened, wagging a finger. “Chief Terry has been good to us.”
“He’s been good to you,” Thistle corrected. “You’re his favorite.”
“I’m everybody’s favorite. That’s what happens when you’re not purposely mean to people.”
“You’re not Nelson’s favorite anymore,” Landon reminded me. “He’ll always have a soft spot for you, though, so at least you have that to live for.”
I scowled as I wrinkled my nose, hitting the “send” button on my email to shoot the article to the page designer before closing my laptop and placing it on the coffee table. “You just won’t shut up about that, will you?”
Landon shrugged, his eyes lit with amusement. “I simply thought it was funny. You said he had a crush on you, but he was clearly more interested in his harem.”
“Harem?” Thistle plopped her feet on the table and smiled in thanks when Marcus handed her a mixed drink from the bar cart. “Who are we talking about again?”
“Nelson Lyons,” I replied. “I needed a color quote for my piece and he was at the wishing well ceremony. He had so many girls hanging on him I thought he would be lost in a sea of fake blond hair and bosoms.”
“Oh, that was poetic, sweetie.” Landon chuckled as he continued rubbing my feet. “Bay thought it was odd, but I figured he must be doing their homework or something.”
“Nelson Lyons?” Thistle tilted her head to the side, considering. “He’s the blond kid with the glasses and unfortunate chicken neck, right?”
I nodded. “He’s a sweet boy, though. If he grows into that neck he’ll probably be handsome.”
“He came into the store about six months ago,” Thistle supplied. “He wanted me to make him a love potion so the girls would go wild.”
My stomach involuntarily twisted. “You didn’t do it, did you?”
Thistle made an exaggerated “well, duh” face. “Of course I didn’t. I know how dangerous love potions are. They always backfire, because you can’t force someone to feel what they don’t naturally feel.”
“But can you do it?” Landon appeared interested. “I mean, can you make a potion that will mimic feelings of love?”
“In theory, yes,” Thistle replied. “We can make a potion that will convince someone they love another person, even if they don’t. The potion generally works for a good twenty-four hours and then it starts to backfire.”
“Is that because the magic breaks down?” Marcus asked.
I shook my head. “It’s because the human heart is stronger than most people are willing to believe. People who want to use love potions don’t care what the other person really wants. They only care about what they want. Eventually the cursed person’s heart almost always manages to fight off the spell.”
“And when that happens, whoa baby!” Thistle adopted an exaggerated tone. “The person you cast the spell on is not only aware of what happened during the time they were under the spell, they’re also aware of who caused them to act like that.”
“Really?” Landon pressed his thumb into the soft pad of my foot as he lifted it. “Did you ever cast a love spell on anyone?”
“Are you asking me?” My voice went unnaturally shrill and I intern
ally cursed myself for being such a poor liar.
“You did, didn’t you?” Landon looked amused. “Who was it? Some guy you had a crush on in high school?”
“No.” I vehemently shook my head. “I definitely knew better by the time I was in high school.”
“So … who was it?”
“Um … .”
“Oh, just tell him,” Thistle prodded. “You were hardly alone when it happened. We were all idiots that day.”
“Oh, I’m practically salivating,” Landon teased, releasing my foot and leaning forward so he could capture me around the waist and tug me to him. I tried to wriggle away, but it was fruitless. “Go on, Thistle. I’m dying to hear this story.”
“There’s not much to tell,” Thistle explained. “It happened when we were in middle school. We liked to go through the spell book when we were kids. We found the love spell. Bay liked Frankie Wymer at the time. I remember because I made a ton of ‘Wymer is a wiener’ jokes and Bay was spitting mad by the time I finished.”
“Nice.” Landon and Marcus exchanged a look, amused.
“I had a crush on Ben Stark, and Clove liked a boy, too,” Thistle continued. “I don’t remember who she cast the spell on. She liked a different boy every week and it became impossible to keep up.
“Anyway, we found the spell and we cast it,” she continued. “At first it was great. The boys wanted to sit next to us at lunch. They even gave us their pudding cups so we could have double the dessert.”
“Oh, true love.” Landon was far too enamored with the story. He was beginning to make me feel uncomfortable.
“We didn’t know what we were doing,” Thistle explained, sobering. “They turned on us fast. There was some hair pulling and Bay got kicked in the ribs. We had to hide in a closet until our mothers showed up at the school … and boy were they angry.”
All traces of Landon’s smile vanished. “You got kicked?”
I pressed my lips together and nodded.
“Well, while you probably shouldn’t have cast the spell, I kind of blame your mothers for this one,” Landon said. “They left the book out. Of course you guys would’ve been curious.”
Make A Witch Page 5
