Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set

by Grover Swank, Denise

  But River’s kiss stayed with her, and she reached her fingers to her lips, savoring the memory. She’d never been kissed like that before. And of course, it had to be the one man who was off-limits.

  Of course, she couldn’t let it happen again. On Monday morning, she’d take River into her office and apologize, telling him she regretted her behavior. It was unprofessional and the brewery would be in a world of hurt if they went forward with a romance and things ended badly.

  When she got back to her apartment, she drowned her sorrows in too much wine, telling herself she was drinking it because she had no idea when she’d be back, and the bottle was too good to go to waste. But she found herself comparing it to the beer flight River had set up at Beau’s house…and thinking about the moment he’d almost kissed her that night. She hadn’t imagined that, right?

  No more thoughts about River. You need to focus on saving that failing business, not finding a boyfriend. Because business always trumped personal, a lesson her father had taught her at an early age.

  Despite her copious wine consumption, she managed to pack three suitcases of clothes and personal effects and made arrangements with the management of her condo to have someone drop by her unit to check on it from time to time and notify her if her mail wasn’t being forwarded. The building manager had also agreed to hand her car keys over to the transport company she planned to hire on Monday. She’d have to figure out what to do with her condo and her belongings, but Beau’s house was fully furnished and she didn’t want to put so many things in storage. She’d let it sit for now, and figure it out later.

  She took occasional breaks from packing to take a deeper dive into the accounting for the brewery, which was what her sister Adalia would mockingly call a Georgie kind of break. It was not necessarily a good idea given how much she was drinking, but she didn’t have to be sober to see the brewery was genuinely in trouble. It wasn’t the employees’ fault they were closing temporarily, and Georgie didn’t want to start from scratch, which meant she’d have to come up with enough cash to pay their salaries, even if at a slightly reduced rate, until they reopened.

  Her flight on Sunday was delayed, and she sat next to a screaming baby from Boston to Charlotte, which didn’t help her raging hangover headache. Then she was put at the back of the plane to Asheville, next to a toilet that became clogged about five minutes after takeoff.

  So by the time she drove her new rental car to Beau’s house, she was bordering on cranky and considering another night at the hotel to avoid dealing with Dottie’s nuttiness. Only Adalia had texted during her Boston flight that she was really looking forward to the séance and she was 93.4% sure Lee would be there too.

  93.4%? Georgie texted in reply on the tarmac at Charlotte.

  Don’t question it, Georgie. Just trust me. I can’t wait for you to taste the specially planned menu and describe it to me

  Georgie was so hungry, she was looking forward to it too. Everything Dottie had left in Beau’s fridge had been delicious. It was the séance part that worried her.

  Her other concern—being alone with Dottie—was quickly overshadowed when she saw River’s car parked on the street. There were a bunch of other cars too, but in the short time she’d been in Asheville, she’d learned that parking came at a premium and it wasn’t unusual to see cars parked on the street. But it was River’s car that had her on edge. Had Dottie invited him too? Once she parked the car in the driveway, she opened the text, and sure enough, River’s number was at the end of the list.

  After she put on the parking brake, she got out and wrestled all three suitcases out of the trunk. She could wait and ask River for help, but it didn’t seem like a good idea—or very fair—to ask him for favors, so she decided to try to carry them to the front porch herself. She backed the two slightly smaller bags together, one pressed against the other, and grabbed the handles in one hand while balancing her overnight bag on top of them, her purse slung over her shoulder. Her other hand maneuvered the bigger suitcase. It might have worked out if the driveway hadn’t been on a hill.

  She’d made it to the porch steps when her purse slipped around and knocked into the hand holding the two suitcases. Her fingers flexed as pain shot through her knuckles, and the bags broke free, rolling down the driveway. She tried to chase after them, while still holding the other suitcase and overnight bag, but the wheel of the big suitcase caught on a small rock and overturned, sending the bag flying into the yard.

  Georgie heard a crash and turned just in time to see one of the smaller suitcases get smashed under the wheel of a large Buick that looked like it came straight out of a ’70s police show. The other was nowhere to be seen. At least one of them had made it.

  The car tried to back up, but the tire was stuck on the suitcase. It rocked back and forth, trying to work itself free.

  “Georgie?” she heard River call out behind her. She was surprised at the panic in his voice. “Are you okay?” he asked as he stopped beside her.

  She ignored the flutters in her stomach when she saw him. “I’m okay, but my suitcases…” she cried out in dismay. “I lost two of them. One of them is under that car, but I don’t know where the other one is.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll find it,” he said. She presumed he was trying to sound reassuring, but he hadn’t quite hit the mark. Not that she blamed him. The bag under the tire was nearly completely smashed flat. No coming back from that.

  That was the bag holding her cosmetics, her blow drier, and curling iron.

  The car’s engine revved and the vehicle finally broke free, shooting backward. A loud crashing sound filled the air. The smashed suitcase had been freed, but the car appeared stuck again.

  “I think we found your other bag,” River said with a grimace, sneaking a glance at her.

  They walked down the driveway together, their view of the mess partially obscured by a car in the street, but when they reached the edge of the driveway, Georgie gasped. Underwear and bras were lying on the street, on the parked cars, on the side of the road. A blue bra hung from a tree branch on the side of the road.

  Josie got out of the car and stared at the mess with a look of wonder. A breeze kicked in and a silky pair of black panties blew up off the road and hit Josie smack in the face. She peeled it away, beaming as though she’d just won the lottery. “When my horoscope said good fortune would rain on me today, I never suspected it would be underwear.”

  Georgie stared at her in shocked silence. Every piece of lingerie she owned—other than what she was wearing—was scattered all over Flint Street. In front of River.

  “I know this is bad,” River said in a calm voice. “I’m sure not everything is ruined.”

  Josie left her car door open and squealed as she started picking up clothing off the bushes. “It’s like an Easter egg hunt!”

  Georgie looked up at River. “Josie was invited to the séance.”

  It wasn’t a question since the answer was so obvious.

  Hesitation filled his eyes. “Aunt Dottie said she and Lurch had unfinished business with Beau.”

  “Lurch is here too.” She shook her head as her gaze shifted back to Josie, who was looping her arms through Georgie’s panties like they were bracelets. “Of course he is.”

  “Georgie…”

  “Is there alcohol at this séance?” she asked. “Because I need lots and lots of alcohol.”

  River turned to stare at Josie, then back to Georgie. “Well, there’s beer, of course, and my aunt’s elderberry wine.” He hesitated, then added, “And she said she was making punch.”

  “Punch?”

  “Pineapple and orange juice, champagne, and beer.” He hesitated again. “Fair warning… Aunt Dottie’s calling it Lurch’s Pee Brew.”

  Georgie stared up at him and the absurdity of it all hit her head-on. She began to laugh, breaking out into hysterical giggles that put a stitch in her side.

  River watched her first in horror, then in concern, and then finally his mouth
twisted into an amused grin.

  “I won!” Josie exclaimed, waving both arms—one lined with panties and the other with bras.

  Georgie stopped laughing.

  River’s smile fell. “I’ll deal with this, Georgie. You go on inside.”

  She didn’t respond, just headed for the front door, leaving her other suitcase and overnight bag in the yard. They weren’t going anywhere…unless Josie decided to plow through the yard with that monster car of hers.

  Georgie had no idea what to expect when she walked through the door, but nothing could have prepared her for the sideshow in front of her.

  “I need some of Lurch’s Pee Brew,” she called out on the way to the dining room. “Stat.”

  Chapter 20

  It had been no more than forty-eight hours since River had last seen Georgie, but what a forty-eight hours. Since sending him an invitation to the séance, Aunt Dottie had followed up with no less than thirty texts asking him to do various tasks in preparation. A few of them had seemed to have no obvious connection to the event, and he feared the moment when their usefulness would come into clarity. In between brainstorming recipes for the rest of the Buchanan beers, he’d done his aunt’s errands, all of them, because even if she was a little, well, dotty, he loved her with all that he was and she was mourning in her own way.

  The first and easiest of the tasks had been to set up the video conferencing. Apparently she did not, in fact, know how to do that and had been relying on him to make the arrangements. Maisie had a big flat-screen computer she’d donated to the cause, large enough for all of the Buchanans to take part. Maisie had gotten an invitation too—because apparently his aunt had been feeling pretty free with them—but she’d declined. The way she’d done it, averting her eyes, had made River wonder if it was because of the awkward moment they’d had on Friday night. He’d tried to encourage her to come anyway, but he hadn’t tried too hard, truth be known. And not just because she’d agreed to puppysit for Hops to ensure he didn’t destroy the entire apartment.

  Truth was, he was hoping for a chance to talk to Georgie. Privately. In the midst of what was sure to be a madhouse.

  Scratch that, it was already a madhouse. Georgie’s plastic suitcases had broken open like piñatas, and some of the sexiest yet classiest lingerie he’d ever seen was strung on Josie’s arms.

  Good God. Why couldn’t he have seen them on Georgie instead?

  Although he’d barely had a free minute to breathe all weekend, he’d found himself remembering the feel of her every night.

  “It’s a sign, River,” Josie said confidently once Georgie disappeared inside the house.

  “That you need a new car?” he murmured, his eyes lingering on the door. “Any one of us could have told you that.”

  “No, I mean it’s a sign Beau changed his mind.” He turned to her in annoyance, and she gave him a serious look through her oversized glasses.

  “Is this because they fired you?”

  She tilted her chin up, as if to say she wouldn’t deign to respond to his question. The gesture drew attention to her hat.

  “Are you wearing a witch’s hat?” he asked in disbelief. It was mostly a normal size, but it came to a slight point, marked by a sequined star.

  “Yes,” she said, reaching up to touch it. “Thank you for noticing. But consider this. On Friday, the whole brewery was full of bubbles, and the tanks were contaminated. Today, Georgie’s suitcases exploded in front of the house. What does that mean to you?”

  He sighed deeply. “Josie, you were directly responsible for two of those things. If it’s a sign of anything, it’s that the Buchanans should stay away from you.”

  He reached out for the underwear and bras, and she handed them over with a bit of a pout.

  “Just wait,” she said, “Dottie knows Beau has something to say, and I think he’s going to surprise us all.”

  God help him.

  She made her way to the house, and River headed down to look at the damage, Georgie’s panties and bras cradled in his arms.

  The bags were both unsalvageable, and one of them was full of goop from what looked like a bunch of burst bottles, but he gathered together what he could from the “Easter egg hunt” and put it in a couple of cardboard boxes he had in his trunk. He stowed the busted bags in the back seat, cleaning up the mess as much as he could with what he had on hand. While he knew Georgie would be staying at the house, he had a feeling she wouldn’t want everyone gawking at her things. It wasn’t until he finished that he let himself look at one of the silk panties. Printed into the silk was Moon Goddess. Huh, so they made underwear too. Sexy underwear. It was all kinds of hot to think of Georgie wearing panties made by her own company.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he dropped the panties like he’d been caught snooping—because he sort of had.

  His heart leapt when he saw it was from Georgie.

  Forget the suitcases, River. PLEASE come back!

  Well, shit. A quick glance at the time told him he’d been gone longer than he’d intended. It was almost seven.

  As soon as he walked through the door, he sucked in a breath. He’d been by earlier to set up the computer for the video conferencing, but his aunt hadn’t decorated for the party yet. His attention immediately shot to the far wall, which was covered in the oversized sheets of cardboard Aunt Dottie had requested. She’d painted it with the letters of the alphabet, all in caps, aligning each with the unplugged Christmas lights tacked to the wall.

  He had to get his aunt to cancel her Netflix subscription.

  The big-screen computer sat directly across from it, on a table high enough to ensure the Buchanans had a good view, both of the wall and the horrifying sculpture beside it. Horrifying not because it wasn’t artistically sound but because it was a life-size model of Beau—nude. Only his anatomy appeared to be carved from a crystal.

  A pink crystal.

  His aunt had never told him she was working on that.

  The dining room table had been pushed to the side of the room, and on it sat a huge bowl of alarmingly yellow Lurch’s Pee Brew, served in a white bowl he’d acquired for Aunt Dottie, which was uncomfortably reminiscent of a toilet. The food she’d prepared was all dark brown or black—“like the earth where he should be at rest” she’d said. His aunt had always been a wonderful cook, but everything other than the brownies looked pretty unappetizing. It didn’t help that each dish had been labeled with the name of the type of dirt that had inspired it.

  He’d urged his aunt not to use real candles—the last thing they needed was for the house to go up in flames—and she’d reluctantly agreed, but the tea lights he’d picked up were arranged everywhere, adding to the glow of her pink salt lamps. There were at least four of those. He even saw a pink salt night-light in the corner. A big box crowded with crystals had pride of placement on a side table constructed from a repurposed barrel. God, maybe he should talk to Aunt Dottie about seeing a therapist.

  He glanced around the room, nodding to a few people he recognized, Tom and Rita and one of Beau’s golfing buddies, pretending all of this was normal, until his gaze found Georgie. She had a glass of the yellow punch in her hand while she talked to Lurch, of all people, overlooking the Ouija board arranged on the coffee table. Perhaps Aunt Dottie was hedging her bets by using every spirit communication method on record.

  Georgie looked up just then, and when they made eye contact, she mouthed, “Help.”

  A strangely buoyant feeling rose in him, and he made his way toward them.

  “It was my idea,” he heard Lurch say proudly as he gestured to the yellow punch. “Figured it’d be better to drink it all down rather than let it turn to vinegar, don’t you think?”

  Georgie set the glass down, looking like she was just this side of vomiting. Before River could interject, someone tugged on his shoulder from behind.

  He turned to look at his aunt, who had donned a long black dress that trailed across the floor and a necklace with
a huge crystal pendant. It was pink like the one in Beau’s statue, and he didn’t want to think too hard about what it had been carved to resemble. She had a worried look. “Do you think it’s enough, River?”

  He suppressed a laugh, because she was obviously in earnest. “Aunt Dottie, I’m pretty sure a tenth of this would have been enough. But Beau would have loved every bit of it.”

  And it was true, because Beau had loved Aunt Dottie. He’d always said she kept him from taking life too seriously, something he’d described as a Buchanan trait.

  “Well,” she said worriedly, “we’d better move forward with the crystal selection. We’ll all need to choose one to better communicate with Beau.”

  He glanced back at Georgie, who was now listening to a story about Lurch’s prostate problems with a pained expression. She met his eyes, giving him a get me out of this look. Although he had no idea what this crystal selection entailed, it had to be better than being cornered by Lurch. “Maybe Georgie should go first,” he suggested. “We can pick some for her sister and brothers too.”

  That ought to take a while.

  “Wonderful idea,” Aunt Dottie said, brightening. “I worried they wouldn’t feel included. Should we conference them in now so they can watch everything?”

  “We gave them the number to call,” he said. “I’ll open the meeting and make sure the volume’s high enough, but they’ll dial in when they’re ready.” Although he couldn’t imagine why they’d want to watch their sister pick a few crystals from a box. It seemed like the New Age equivalent of watching paint dry. He’d be surprised if Lee called in at all—the guy didn’t strike him as a good sport, or someone who had a sense of humor.

  He turned around just as Lurch was saying, “Anything can be a toilet if you’re really desperate, is what I’m trying to get across.”

  “Sorry to interject,” he said, “but we need you, Georgie. We have to set up the conferencing so your brothers and sister can call in, plus my aunt’s ready to start…” He paused, working on his straight face. “…the crystal selection.”