Soul of the Witch

by Deanna Chase

  He cleared his throat. “It was no big deal. I was stopping by anyway.”

  Faith snorted a laugh.

  “Faith,” Abby said, a warning in her tone.

  “Yes?” Faith answered, all innocence.

  “Why don’t you go inside where you can mind your own business.”

  Her younger sister laughed, wiggled her fingers at Clay, and disappeared back into the house with the beer samples.

  “Sorry about that.” Abby jumped down off the porch and strolled past Clay to the back of the Jeep.

  He watched her, his eyes automatically focusing on her shapely backside. Damn, he thought. She was even lovelier than she’d been at eighteen. His insides tightened, and he forced himself to glance away.

  “This was really sweet of you,” she said as she lifted the hatchback. “I don’t know what I was thinking taking off with Wanda without even grabbing my suitcase.”

  Clay shrugged. “I imagine you were just anxious to see your dad. How is he today?”

  She grabbed her canvas bag, the one full of her lingerie, and glanced over at him. “Good I guess. He’s been out in the orchard ever since I got in. He’ll probably be in soon. You can wait for him inside while I unload this stuff.”

  His gaze travelled over her face, noting her tired expression and the faint circles under her eyes. She was exhausted after driving all the way from New Orleans on her own. He shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll help you unload.”

  “You really don’t—”

  Clay held up his hand. “I know I don’t have to, Abs. But I want to, okay?”

  She glanced away, but not before he noticed the emotion rolling through her clear blue eyes. She’d never been one who could hide what she was feeling, and that hadn’t changed. Was she that worried about her dad, or was it something else?

  “All right. Most of this stuff can just go in the garage for now.” She walked over to her dad’s truck and reached in, pressing the garage door opener.

  “You got it.” While Abby pulled out her travel bags, Clay started moving her boxes of supplies into the garage. But as he picked up a container of glass jars, he frowned. “Don’t you want this stuff in your studio?”

  “No. The garage is fine.”

  “It’s not a big deal. I can just drive it over there—”

  “Clay, it’s fine,” she said, her body stiff and her face blank.

  He knew that look. He’d seen it more times than he could count. It meant she had her hackles up, and no matter what he said she wouldn’t back down. Stubborn didn’t begin to describe her when she was dead set against something. “Can I ask why? Aren’t you going to be working over there?”

  She shook her head, clutching one of her canvas bags to her body.

  “I see.” He glanced from the pile of supplies in the garage to the little studio on the edge of the property. “Does anyone use it these days?”

  She shook her head again and let out an audible sigh.

  “That’s a shame.” He watched the fire inside her flame out and turn to weariness as she turned her attention back to unloading the Jeep. Everything about her screamed exhaustion. “Here. I can get that.” Clay reached out to the take the open bag from her, but she sidestepped him, hauling the heavy bag out of the Jeep. She backed up, misjudged where she’d left her other suitcases, and stumbled over the pile of luggage. Time stopped, and almost as if in slow motion, the bag she was holding tumbled out of the Jeep, its contents floating through the late afternoon air and scattering all over the drive.

  Clay was speechless as he took in the scene. The bag just happened to be her lingerie bag, and pink, black, red, green, and purple lace covered the concrete, appearing as if Victoria’s Secret had exploded in the Townsend driveway.

  Abby let out a gasp and scrambled to grab her bras and panties while Clay chuckled.

  “Need some help with that?” he asked, rocking back on his heels, completely amused.

  “No.” She sent him an annoyed glance as she frantically stuffed her panties back into the bag.

  “It’s really no problem. I mean, it’s nothing I haven’t handled before.”

  She rolled her eyes and stood up, hands on her hips, trying to act as if she was unaffected by the incident. But her face was bright red and she had trouble looking him in the eye. “Funny. Can we just pretend this never happened?”

  “I don’t think so, Abs. It’s going to be next to impossible to forget seeing you stuff your underwear into your bag just like you used to when we’d get caught making out in your shed.” The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it was worth it when her face turned a deeper shade of red and her mouth worked, unable to form words. He laughed, enjoying watching her flustered. Leaning in, he whispered, “Don’t worry, Abby. Your secrets are safe with me.”

  Winking, he grabbed another box and carried it to the garage. When he turned around, all traces of her were gone, except for a sliver of red poking out from under the Jeep. He reached down and picked up the forgotten panties, the lace so soft it felt like velvet.

  “Good goddess,” he muttered as his entire body heated.

  “Clay?” Lin’s deep voice reverberated from behind him.

  Clay quickly shoved the lace into his pocket and turned around, hoping he didn’t look as guilty as he felt. Hell, what was he, seventeen again? It wasn’t like he was doing anything other than helping Abby unload the car… unless one counted picturing her naked with her bra and underwear on the floor. He cleared his throat. “Lin, how are you doing?”

  “Good.” The older man nodded to the car and raised an eyebrow. “You moving in?”

  “Not today, but it’s good to know it’s an option.” Clay grinned at the older man.

  “I wouldn’t say I’m offering, but if you were in dire straits, we could probably find room for you in the shed.”

  Clay laughed. “Thanks. I’m just dropping off Abby’s things. After the accident today—”

  “Accident?” Lin’s gaze scanned the driveway then landed on the front door as Abby came striding back out.

  “Dad!” Abby’s entire face lit up as she spotted her father and ran from the porch, her arms out.

  Lin caught her in a giant bear hug, lifting her right off her feet. “Welcome home, Abby-girl.” He held her there, suspended off the ground for a few moments before carefully placing her back onto her feet. Then he studied her closely. “Are you okay? Nothing bruised or broken?”

  “Fine time to ask me that now that you’ve squeezed the air right out of me.” She rubbed her palm over her chest and quickly added, “I’m fine. Just a fender-bender.”

  Lin glanced over at Clay, clearly looking for confirmation.

  “No one was hurt,” Clay confirmed. “There’s a Mini Cooper running around town with a smashed back end, and Abby’s car is going to need a makeover, but otherwise it appears both parties escaped unscathed.”

  “Dad,” Abby said, her hands once again on her hips. “I don’t need Clay to speak for me.”

  “Of course you don’t,” he agreed with a shake of his head. “But I do need him to vouch for you. If you’re anything like your sisters, ever since we learned of the cancer, no one wants to upset me. I’ve learned if I want the truth, I need to find corroborating witnesses.”

  “Oh, for the love of Tink,” she said, rolling her eyes as she slipped her arm around his waist and leaned in for another sideways hug. “How about this? I promise to always tell you the brutal truth as long as you promise to not leave me in the dark.” She glanced at Clay pointedly. “Like not telling me when you hand over the brew master duties to someone else.”

  Her father cast a sideways glance at Clay then turned back to her, nodding. “Deal.” He held out his hand, but Abby ignored it and hugged him tighter instead. She whispered something that Clay couldn’t hear, and her father tightened his hold on her for just a second before letting her go.

  “There. Now I have to finish unloading this stuff. What are you u
p to?” Abby asked him.

  “Need to talk to Clay for a minute about the samples he brought over then I’ll be inside.”

  “Okay, there’s a mug of spiked hot cocoa with your name on it.” She smiled at her dad, grabbed another couple bags, and hurried back inside.

  Lin turned to Clay, his eyebrows raised. “What are you really doing here, Clay?”

  Busted. Clay had never brought Lin samples of the brews before. Even though Lin had backed off the operations at the brewery, he still came in at least three times a week. Chances were he’d be in the very next day. “Just helping your daughter out.”

  Lin pursed his lips. “I can see that. You know she has someone back in New Orleans, right?”

  A familiar dull ache formed just above his heart, and he unconsciously rubbed at his chest as he shook his head. “No, I didn’t. But that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” Lin asked, staring him down with his steely gray eyes.

  Dammit. He couldn’t lie to the old man. It was obvious he was seeing right through him. Clay sucked in a breath and blew it out. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Lin. I’m not interested in getting in the middle of anything. You don’t have to worry about her.”

  Lin moved in closer and lowered his voice. “It’s not Abby I’m worried about, son. I love my daughter, and the gods know she’s got a smart head on her shoulders with that business of hers she runs. But when it comes to matters of the heart, she hasn’t quite figured things out. If you’re going to let her back into your life, just be careful. You hear what I’m saying?”

  Clay stared at his boss, at a loss for words. Lin’s frankness was appreciated, but at the same time, he was offended on Abby’s behalf. She was a grown woman, after all, and deserved to make her decisions free of judgment, even from her father. Finally, he nodded. “I hear you, Lin. And while I won’t deny that there will likely always be something there between Abby and me, I’m not looking to rekindle anything. Besides the fact she has a… someone, I’m not in the market. Between raising Olive and my recent divorce, I have more than enough to deal with.”

  Lin reached out and squeezed Clay’s arm. “You’re a good man, Clay. That ex-wife of yours is going to regret her decisions someday.”

  Clay snorted. He highly doubted it. If he was honest, he’d have to admit that Val had never liked being married. Their relationship had been all physical. Sure, they’d liked each other in the beginning, but after Olive came along and the realities of life settled in, Val had run. She thrived at parties and fundraisers, preferring to always be the center of attention. Clay, on the other hand, just wanted to provide a good life for his daughter. Even if she wanted to come back, Clay wouldn’t have her. Not since he’d seen her true colors. If he ever decided to open his heart again, it would be with someone who put family first; someone who didn’t run. Someone who wasn’t his ex-wife or Abby.

  “She will. Mark my words.” Lin nodded at him, then turned and made his way back into the house.

  Clay quickly unloaded the rest of Abby’s boxes and then climbed into his Jeep, anxious to put distance between him and the one person he’d never been able to truly let go. But when he shoved his hand into his pocket, looking for his keys, his fingers closed around a soft piece of fabric.

  Abby’s lace underwear.

  Son of a… He debated just taking off but couldn’t stomach the thought of taking her panties home with him like some sort of creeper. That left two choices: fling them out the car window for her to find, or take them inside and discreetly hand them to her.

  Damn. He pushed the car door open, jogged onto the porch, and knocked softly.

  Laughter greeted him from the other side of the door, and when it opened, Faith stood there eyeing him. “Did the spiked hot cocoa change your mind?”

  He shook his head. “No. I have something for Abby.”

  She glanced down at his empty hands and gave him a curious look. “What is it?”

  His lips curved into a crooked smile. “It’s top secret.”

  “Right.” Faith rolled her eyes and pulled the door all the way open. “She’s in her bedroom. Same one as before. I’m sure you remember it.”

  “I think I can find it.” He nodded his thanks, waved to Lin and Yvette, who were both watching him from the doorway of the kitchen, and made his way down the hall. He found Abby bent over a suitcase, her rear in the air as she rummaged around searching for something. “Need some help?”

  She jerked upright and spun, pushing her blond hair out of her face. “Clay. Hi. Is there still stuff to unload out in the Jeep?”

  He shook his head and stepped into her room, trying to block out all the old memories threatening to overwhelm him. It was the same room they’d spent hours in making out on her bed, where she’d told him she loved him for the first time, and where they’d planned their dreams for the future, naïve dreams that died the day she’d left for New Orleans.

  She took a step back, her face flushed, and he wondered if she was remembering, too. She dropped the sweater she’d been holding on the bed and stared him in the eye as he moved closer. “Um, what is it you needed then?”

  Clay smiled and closed the distance between then, enjoying her nervousness entirely too much. She might be involved with someone, but there was no mistaking that he still had an effect on her. And even if that made him a jerk, he wasn’t sure he minded in that moment. Because she sure as hell still had an effect on him. He leaned in, his cheek a few inches from hers as he whispered, “You forgot something.”

  “Oh?”

  Her body visibly swayed toward him, seemingly on its own. He knew all it would take was one small movement to have her back in his arms where she so clearly belonged. But he stood perfectly still, not touching her. I deserve a freakin’ medal, he thought. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out the panties, and pressed them into her hands. “As much as I appreciate you leaving them for me, I figured it would be inappropriate to keep them.”

  “Wha…?” She glanced down at the fabric in her hands and let out a tiny gasp as she hid them behind her back. “Where did you find these? Did my dad see them out there?”

  He chuckled, staring down into her wide blue eyes. “No, he didn’t see them. I found them peeking out from under the Jeep. I’d already snatched them up before he arrived.”

  “Oh, hell. Of course you were the one to find them. Just perfect.” She closed her eyes tight and shook her head as if that could erase this moment from her memory.

  “Abs?” He waited for her to open her eyes and look at him. He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear. “Like I said earlier, they aren’t anything I haven’t seen before. You always did have a penchant for lace.”

  “Except now you have no business looking at my panties,” she said, her eyes soft as she swept her gaze over him.

  “I guess that’s true. But I’m not sorry I did.” They stared at each for a moment, the electricity sparking between them so strong it could’ve powered the entire town. Clay’s insides were a jumble of nerves, and excitement, and pure need. Who was he kidding? Being around her was like adding air to fire. All it did was stoke the need that had never gone away.

  “Clay?” she said.

  “Yeah, Abs.” He brushed one thumb over her cheekbone.

  “I have a boyfriend… sort of. And last I heard, you have a wife. I don’t think this… whatever it is, is a good idea.” She swallowed and glanced away.

  “Right.” Clay dropped his hand and retreated to the open door. “For the record, I’m recently divorced. But point taken. Goodnight, Abigail.”

  She met his eyes, confusion and regret shining back at him. “Goodnight, Clay.”

  Chapter 7

  “Whoa, is it hot in here or is it hot in here?” Faith fanned her face with her hand as she stood by Abby’s bedroom window, watching as Clay’s Jeep disappeared down the drive.

  “Stop.” Abby dropped her red lace panties into the top drawer of
her bureau. “There’s nothing there.”

  “Liar.” Faith stared her sister down, practically daring her to deny it.

  Abby pressed her lips together into a thin line. “Fine. It’s obvious something’s there, but it’s nothing more than old history. He just got divorced for goodness sake.”

  “That’s been over for well over a year, Abs. If that’s your excuse, it’s a poor one.” Faith twisted her hair into a knot on top of her head and launched herself onto Abby’s bed. “He’s as available as they come.”

  “You’re forgetting that he has a kid and I have Logan.” Abby opened her closet door and carefully placed her knee-high boots next to her red leather lace-up ankle boots. It was fall on the Northern California coast, and she was ready for it.

  “Logan? Seriously, Abs? I thought you said you were on a break… again.”

  “We are. Or were. He just told me on the phone today that he thinks that’s a mistake.”

  “And what about you? Do you think it’s a mistake? What did you say?” Faith asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe? I didn’t say anything. It’s too much to process right this moment.”

  Faith tsked. “Then technically, you don’t have a Logan. He broke up with you, but you don’t have to take him back. Seriously, Abby, you’d pass over Clay for that guy?”

  Abby straightened and turned to eye her sister. “What’s wrong with Logan?”

  Faith crossed her arms over her chest. “Besides being an irresponsible, spoiled, trust-fund baby?”

  “Faith!” Abby frowned. “Don’t be so judgmental. Besides, he’s not irresponsible. He works hard.”

  Faith’s eyes narrowed, and the disgusted look on her face was one Abby rarely saw her sister wear. “You mean you work hard and he takes credit for it.”

  “That’s not true. He—”

  “It is true. I was there, remember? I sat back and bit my tongue while you ran his gallery, ran all the promotions, and gave him a sweetheart deal on your soaps just so he could keep the lights on longer. The only reason that gallery stayed open as long as it did is because you worked your butt off while he sat in the back painting the same thing over and over again.”