Spells & Stitches (12 page)
Authors: Barbara Bretton
She took another look at her reflection. The glazed look in her eyes. The lips swollen from hours of kissing. Her mother would nail her to the wall in an instant if she walked into brunch looking like this. Still she wondered if maybe she should give it a try. The idea of bringing James along with her was just wrong enough to be irresistible.
“What would you say about driving up to Lake Winnipesaukee for brunch with my family?”
He was sprawled across the bed, all muscular limbs and broad chest. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep from straddling him.
His smile was lazy and amused. “In this weather?”
She crossed the room to the window, deliciously aware of his heated gaze on her body. She was surprised her bones didn’t melt.
The amount of snow startled her. The sloping landscape of trees and gentle hills had been obliterated by at least eight inches of powder.
“I guess we’re not going to Lake Winnipesaukee,” she said, walking slowly toward the bed.
“Disappointed?”
She smiled her own lazy smile. “That depends on you.”
He reached for her wrist and pulled her down on top of him and it was a long time before either one of them said anything else.
Hours later she opened her eyes in time to see him pulling on his jeans.
“Don’t get dressed on my account,” she said as he reached for the beautiful Aran sweater he had worn on the drive to the cabin.
“They’ll be closing the roads. If I don’t bring in more supplies now, we’ll be cold and hungry by this time tomorrow.”
“Wait,” she said, stretching as she sat up in bed. “I’ll come with.”
“I like you where you are.” He leaned over and pinned her to the mattress with the weight of his body and kissed her until she forgot everything but how much she wanted him.
“I used to be a productive member of society,” she said as lust, sweet and urgent, filled her senses like wine.
“You taught yoga,” he said, cupping her breasts with his enormous hands.
She arched against him. She couldn’t get close enough. “That’s an honorable profession.”
“There are better things to do with your time.”
“No argument there.”
He stepped just out of reach. “There’s wine on the counter. I tossed the last three logs on the fire. I might be a while depending on the roads.” He grabbed the keys to her beat-up Toyota.
“You’re taking my car,” she observed.
He grinned down at her. “Like you thought I was going to walk?”
“What if something happens?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. An emergency ... something.”
“You have your phone,” he said with an offhand shrug. “Call somebody.”
He was out the door before she had a chance to ask him for his cell number.
She was too mellow to worry, too well used to think about protesting the fact that if he didn’t come back she would be stranded.
For the moment she was exactly where she wanted to be.
10
“She’s not going to stay put,” Luke said as Elspeth melted into the snowfall and vanished. “Mark my words, she’s going to turn up at the omelet station looking like Betty White’s evil twin.”
“She’s not a big fan of humans,” I reminded him. “I think she’ll stay away until we’re ready to drive home.”
“Where do you think she went?” Luke asked, peering into the snow.
“Don’t know and don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, let sleeping trolls lie,” I advised. If I ever put down my knitting, I would embroider that sentiment on a throw pillow.
“I just wish she didn’t smell like waffles,” Luke said and I laughed. “She’s ruining breakfast for me.”
“Come on,” I said, hanging on to his arm. “Let’s go before I lose my nerve.”
“They’re standing in the doorway,” Luke said as we made our way along the snowy path. “Are you ready for this?”
I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. “No,” I said and we both laughed.
“There you are!” Bunny leaped forward, arms outstretched, and enveloped me in a hug. The glittery Christmas tree pin on her left shoulder dug into my chest. “When we saw the snow, I was afraid we’d have to postpone.”
“I’m a hearty New England girl,” I said, wriggling away from the brooch of death. “It takes more than a little snow to slow us down.” Which was, of course, a total lie since I was a wimp who wouldn’t drive between October and May and lived in fear of slipping on the ice.
Next to us Luke and his father did that male chest-bumping thing that passed for hello, but I saw real emotion in their eyes. As far as I could figure, they hadn’t seen each other in at least two years, although neither one referenced the fact.
“Dad,” Luke said, reaching for my hand, “this is Chloe.”
Jack MacKenzie considered me for what seemed like forever. “So you’re the reason he’s moved way up to snow country.”
“My job is the reason I moved up there,” Luke interjected a tad testily.
“Yes,” I said with what I hoped was a saucy grin, “but I’m the reason he stayed.”
Hello
. That was a joke, people. There should have been laughter, but instead I heard the silence fall like a ton of bricks dumped on my inner wiseass.
. That was a joke, people. There should have been laughter, but instead I heard the silence fall like a ton of bricks dumped on my inner wiseass.
Luke stared at me. His mother’s cheeks reddened. His father’s eyes narrowed and then, just when I figured there wasn’t enough magick in the universe to undo the mess I just made, Jack MacKenzie threw back his head and roared with laughter.
“I can see why,” he said, then pulled me into a gigantic bear hug that left me gasping for air. “My son knows a keeper when he meets one.”
I wasn’t so sure about the “keeper” remark but decided to let that go for another day. My inner wiseass was officially on a time-out until we got back to Sugar Maple.
“I’m happy to meet you, Mr. MacKenzie.”
“Mr. MacKenzie was my old man. Call me Jack.”
Another assault-and-battery kind of hug.
“Dad,” Luke said, “ease up. She’s breathing for two.”
“Aw, jeez!” Jack turned bright red and backed away like I was on fire. “I was just—”
“I’m fine,” I said, reaching out to pat his beefy forearm. “Luke is a worrier.”
A shadow passed between the MacKenzies and I knew it was the memory of the granddaughter they’d lost.
“Worrying is good.” Bunny’s tone was brisk, but the look in her eyes gave her away. I felt my jagged nerves begin to settle down. “If you don’t worry about your family, then something’s wrong.”
“You look familiar, like some actress,” Jack said as we turned to stroll into the dining room. He turned to his wife. “You know the one I mean, Bunny. Tall, blond, real skinny—”
“Uma Thurman,” Bunny and Luke said in unison.
“Tell me which one she is,” Jack asked Bunny.
Bunny mimed the twist scene from
Pulp Fiction.
Pulp Fiction.
“No,” said Jack, “that’s not the one. I said blond.”
“She was wearing a wig, Jack. Uma Thurman
is
blond.”
is
blond.”
“Trust me, Dad,” Luke said. “Chloe’s a ringer for Uma ten years ago.”
“Hello,” I said. “Unless Uma’s carrying around twenty-eight pounds of baby weight, I just don’t see it.”
That got Bunny’s attention and she was by my side in an instant. “Twenty-eight pounds?” She looked me up and down. “You’re what? Maybe five-ten?”
I nodded. That was close enough.
“I’m thinking you could use another five.”
I took in a deep, steadying breath and prayed I would say the right thing. Just my luck my baby’s grandmother was a retired nurse.
“So far I’m right on target,” I said as evenly as I could manage.
She arched a perfectly feathered blond brow. “And your doctor agrees?”
I had hoped to postpone the lying part of the program a little longer, but we were off and running. “So far.”
She linked arms with me. “How’s your appetite?”
“Terrific.”
“You’re a good eater?”
I started to laugh. “Five veg and three fruit every day.” Not to mention Chips Ahoy, Ben & Jerry’s, and a side of grilled cheese, but there was no need for full disclosure.
“We’re a nosy tribe,” she said. “Give it a few years. You’ll get used to us.”
She talked about the future like it was a sure thing, like she could see down the years straight through to the happy ending no Hobbs woman had ever managed.
But I didn’t have time to dwell on that. Bunny MacKenzie was a human question machine. She lobbed them at me the way the pitching machine lobbed softballs at the Sugar Maple Driving Range and Batting Cage.
“So who was that you were talking to by your truck?”
I stared at her like English was my second language. “What?”
She gave me a patient smile. “That woman you were talking to near the truck. Was she a friend of yours?”
Crap. Had she actually seen us talking to Elspeth? There was no way I could explain the existence of a three-foot-tall troll with hair the color of a yellow cab.
“A business acquaintance owns the inn,” I said, stumbling all over my words. It wasn’t an answer, but maybe Bunny wouldn’t notice.
Fat chance of that.
“So she’s the owner?”
“One of the workers.”
“I feel like I’ve seen her before.”
I shot Bunny a look. “Have you been to the inn before?”
“Never, but there was something very familiar about her. I actually thought she looked a bit like Betty White.” She gave a little laugh. “Oh, well. That’s what happens when you get to be my age, honey. Sooner or later everyone looks familiar.”
Luke and I were surrounded by a mob of people the second we stepped into the dining room, most of whom bore at least a fleeting resemblance to the father of my baby. Tall. Good-looking. Gregarious. And did I mention loud?
They were also the huggingest bunch I’d ever met. I was passed from one pair of arms to the next like a giant stuffed toy as faces and names flew past at the speed of light.
Ten seconds and already I was in family overload. All of the prep work I’d done on Facebook flew right out the window. They could have been the Trapp Family Singers or the Brady Bunch for all I could comprehend. Score another one for pregnancy brain.
I looked toward Luke for support but he was equally surrounded by MacKenzies of varying ages and sizes, most of whom were reading him the riot act for staying away for so long. He caught my eye and gave me one of those
I told you so
looks that would have made me laugh if I hadn’t been drowning in questions.
I told you so
looks that would have made me laugh if I hadn’t been drowning in questions.
I started throwing answers out there like Frisbees, hoping against hope the right MacKenzie would catch them.
“I’m in my ninth month ... a girl ... no, we don’t have a name yet ... we’re not married ... no, we’re not engaged ... yes, we’re totally committed ... I don’t know ... I don’t know ...
Help!
”
Help!
”
I didn’t actually scream “help,” but I came close. I’d chaired contentious town hall meetings with ghosts, vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, witches, and a sleep-deprived mountain giant that were easier.
Not to mention a whole lot quieter.
A pregnant woman around my age put her arm around me and leaned close. “I don’t know about you, Chloe, but if I don’t eat something in the next thirty seconds I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“I don’t know who you are,” I said, “but if you lead me to the Belgian waffles, I’ll send your kid to Harvard.” Even if the waffles did smell an awful lot like Elspeth.
“I’m Kim Davenport, Luke’s older sister and I just might take you up on your offer.”
I looked down at her moderate bump. “April?” I asked.
“Tax Day.” She rolled her eyes. “How’s that for timing?”
“I can beat that,” I said. “Try January first.”
She burst into laughter. “I love it! Little brother misses out on a big deduction.”
“You’re the financial analyst, right?”
“Guilty.”
She led me toward a table groaning with waffles, pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and every baked good you could possibly imagine. An omelet station occupied the far corner of the room, right near an open bar serving delicious-looking mimosas.
“I’d kill for one of those,” Kim said.
“I’m a wine-in-the-box kind of girl myself, but I could definitely use one or three of them.”
“Tell me about it.”
I arched a brow in her direction. “At least you don’t need name tags to keep everyone straight.”
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