The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine (7 page)

Mesmerized by You

J
ENNIFER
D
AWSON

Chapter 1

“O
h dear. I'm afraid we have a problem.” Aunt Iris's worried voice sounded over the cell, raising the hairs on the nape of Chloe Armstrong's neck.

“Problem?” Chloe asked, keeping her voice light and airy. Problems were the last thing she needed. She'd coerced her workaholic best friend into taking this trip. Chloe had promised a stress-free, chill Halloween weekend. If she didn't deliver she'd never get him out of the emergency room again. She crossed her fingers for extra luck and cautiously said, “I hope nothing is wrong.”

Jack Swanson, best friend in question, gave her a sharp glance from his position in the driver's seat.

Chloe shrugged and hoped her expression was reassuring.

“Well, see, I had an unpleasant visit from the exterminator, and I'm afraid I have bees,” Iris said, as though that explained everything.

“Bees?” Chloe prompted.

Jack rolled his melted-chocolate eyes and grinned, shaking his head. He was used to her family's antics and no longer took them all that seriously.

Which was smart. After all, how could bees possibly impact their weekend trip to the small town of Moonbright, Maine?

Chloe relaxed into the seat and took in the brilliant fall foliage that lined I-95. The vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows of the leaves were gorgeous this time of year in this part of the country. They'd just passed a billboard advertising the world's largest pumpkin patch when Aunt Iris spoke again.

“Bees. In the walls.” Her voice lowered several octaves, like she was a CIA agent relaying a precious secret code that would save the world. “I'm afraid the house has to be evacuated immediately.”

Chloe straightened in her seat and rubbed her temple. Oh no.

They were supposed to stay at Aunt Iris's large, colonial house for the weekend. Chloe leaned her forehead against the window.

No good deed went unpunished.

Her mom, concerned about Aunt Iris, who'd been a widow for the past six months, had begged Chloe to go visit the older woman. Seeing as she'd always loved a good road trip, and not wanting to be alone with her aunt all weekend, she'd decided to turn it into an adventure.

And all adventures required Jack, no matter how reluctant he was.

He might not understand, but it was her duty to make sure he had fun and he'd been working way too hard lately. They were only thirty and Chloe worried he'd have a heart attack if he didn't relax.

She'd sold the trip as the perfect, stress-free break. Fall colors, pumpkins, and long walks down Main Street where nobody knew them. They could walk around and not have to stop and talk to anyone. People in the big city took for granted the luxury of anonymity. In a small town she couldn't even run to the grocery store without someone stopping her for a chat.

She'd created the perfect fall getaway, and Moonbright had been deemed the only place in coastal Maine to celebrate Halloween. Now they'd been on the road for the past three hours, and it was the town's busiest weekend all year; where on earth were they going to stay?

Chloe took a deep breath. Okay, maybe she'd misunderstood. “Bees? In the walls?”

“Yes, dear,” Aunt Iris said. “I understand this isn't ideal.”

Chloe gritted her teeth. Oh yes, how perfect. A house filled with bees. Not a disaster. Just not ideal.

Jack's easy expression pinched back up and he glanced at her, the questions clear.

Chloe offered him a reassuring smile, that he didn't come close to buying, then turned to the issue at hand. “I'm sure it will be fine, could you maybe have the exterminator come Sunday when we're gone?”

There was a soft sigh over the line. “I'm afraid he's said the house isn't safe to stay in.”

Great. “So should we turn around and go back home?”

Jack flashed her a horrified look and mouthed, “
Home?
”

She waved him off and he narrowed his eyes at her.

She pointed frantically at the road.

He pinched her and shifted his attention back to the highway.

“Oh no!” Aunt Iris's voice rose to normal levels. “I have it all arranged. We're going to be staying at my friend Amelia Rose's bed-and-breakfast. I have it all set up. You and Jack have a room, and I'll stay with Amelia Rose in her quarters. There's a big party that starts at five and goes until the witching hour. It will be great fun. The whole town shows up over the evening, and everyone is dressed in costumes. There are trick-or-treaters, candy, food, and punch. I'm positive you'll love it. Much more fun than my stuffy old house.”

“Auntie, I didn't bring a costume.” Chloe assumed they'd be spending the night on the couch watching old Cary Grant movies, walking around the small town, and sitting by the water. She'd brought jeans, sweatpants, T-shirts, and sweaters.

Jack gave her another
what-the-fuck
look.

Aunt Iris made reassuring noises. “All taken care of. I got the last costumes in town for you and Jack. They'll be adorable.”

Oh God, this was going to be a disaster. Jack wasn't much of a costume guy. He'd hate this.

Okay, so Chloe would delay that little surprise. And really, once he got into the spirit of things, he'd have a good time, she'd make sure of it. She always did. She phrased her question carefully, so as to not tingle his spidey senses. “I see, and what might that be?”

She crossed her fingers and prayed for Batman and Catwoman.

“Well, since it's Halloween, there wasn't much left to choose from. The only costumes they had in your size were Dorothy and the Scarecrow, or Tarzan and Jane.” Aunt Iris giggled, sounding like she was enjoying herself far too much. “I thought Jack's good looks would be wasted as a scarecrow.”

Chloe had to choke down the laugh.

He was going to kill her.

Murder her in her sleep.

He'd find out he'd be walking around half-naked all night soon enough, but until then, she'd keep that bit of information to herself.

At least they had a place to sleep. And it would be fun.

They just needed to adjust their expectations.

Chloe put her hand on the GPS button. “What's the address?”

“Eight-sixteen Vine. It's the cottage on the corner of Pumpkin and Vine.”

“Cute,” Chloe said, already inputting the new coordinates. “We'll see you soon.”

“Can't wait, dear,” Iris said and the call disconnected.

Brow raised, Jack glanced at her. “And what was that about?”

Chloe beamed at him, giving him her most winning smile. “So, you know how I promised you a quiet weekend in the country?”

“Yes.” His voice low, and slow. Filled with wary suspicion. Ah, alas, he knew her too well.

“There's been a change in plans.”

“Why do I not want to hear this?” His voice that of the truly resigned.

She widened her smile even further and bounced around in her seat. They'd have fun. She was sure of it. “Come on, where's your sense of adventure?”

His too-handsome face winced. “I expended my sense of adventure when we were twelve and you dragged me into the woods and we got lost for twenty-four hours.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Um, excuse me, but that was your fault.”

“How was it my fault?” His voice rose, but he couldn't hide his amusement.

It was one of their oldest, most hotly contested arguments, all delivered in good fun, of course. “You didn't bring the compass.”

“Chloe, how was I supposed to know I needed a compass?”

“I told you we were going into the woods.”

“Not off the path.”

She gave him a pout and fluttered her lashes “Where's my thanks for giving you a story you can tell eighteen years later?”

He shook his head, then turned his attention back to the road. “Don't distract me. What's going on?”

She took a deep breath. “Aunt Iris has bees in the walls and so—”

“Wait? How is that even a thing?”

She scrunched up her nose. “I don't know. You can Google it later. Anyway, her house is being bug-bombed, so we have to stay at her friend's bed-and-breakfast. See, no big deal.”

“That doesn't sound too bad.” He tilted his head and squinted against the sunlight. The cloud cover suddenly cleared to bright, glaring light. Reflexively, she took his sunglasses out of the glove compartment and handed them to him.

He put them on and smiled.

“You look hot in those aviators.” She grinned at him. “Like a real badass.”

“Chloe,” he said, using the same tone Ricky Ricardo used on Lucy.

She shrugged. “Well, you do.”

He did. Jack Swanson was a six-four, broad-shouldered, emergency room doctor. In their town he practically dropped panties whenever he walked down the street. There were rumors women showed up in the ER with fake illnesses just to feel his hands on their skin.

Of course, she was immune—they'd been best friends since the beginning of time—but that didn't mean she didn't appreciate his hotness as an abject observer. She hadn't entertained a sex thought about him in forever. Sex was for guys who didn't mean as much to her as Jack did.

But he was gorgeous. That was just fact.

“Anytime you tell me I'm hot, you are up to something.” His voice was deep and smooth, too. Probably very reassuring to those panicked patients who filled his ER.

“You're paranoid.” She kept her voice flippant and repressed the smile on her lips.

“I've known you twenty-nine of your thirty years. Now, spill.”

Sorting through her selective disclosure, she held up her thumb and index finger. “There's kind of a small, tiny, town-wide Halloween party at the B&B tonight.”

He groaned. “Woman, I've been working forty-eight hours straight, I don't want to go to some crazy party.”

She waved. “Jack, it's a small town. The average age of bed-and-breakfast guests is probably eighty. How crazy could it be?”

Chapter 2

J
ack knew
exactly
how crazy it could be.

Chloe was involved. Everything was crazy when Chloe was involved.

It was her best and worst trait.

He took his eyes off the road to scrutinize her. She gave him a wide, green-eyed, innocent stare.

Instincts borne from years of friendship kicked in. “What aren't you telling me?”

She bit her full bottom lip. “Isn't that enough?”

It was, but he knew her too well. The little vixen was hiding something. Not that she'd tell him until she was good and ready.

He reached over and squeezed her jeans-clad thigh. “Don't think I'm not on to you.”

She flashed him another dazzling smile, one that displayed those perfect dimples that charmed everyone, him included. “Trust me, this is going to be fun.”

She flipped her long hair and blew him a kiss.

Yep, she was trouble. No question about it.

Five minutes later, following the directions from the electronic-voiced map, turning onto streets actually named Haystack Lane and All Saints Boulevard, he pulled into a long drive. The house was one of the prettiest he'd ever seen, straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting, decorated in whimsical Halloween decorations. Skeletons, witches, and cobwebs with big spiders lined the porch, and mountains of pumpkins lined a cobblestone walkway.

He eyed the big house, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “This doesn't look so bad.”

“Oh my God,” Chloe said, squirming in her seat. “I love it. This is going to be fantastic.”

He grinned at her. In that moment he decided to get into the spirit of the weekend. How bad could it be? He was with Chloe, who always kept his life interesting.

No matter what trouble she caused.

He shut off the car and they climbed out. Chloe ran ahead of him, her dark honey hair flying behind her as she jogged up the steps. She spun around, her long waves brushing her cheeks, as she beckoned to him with the crook of her finger. “Come on, let's take a selfie.”

He'd been asked, by practically every man in their small Connecticut town where they grew up, how he could be just friends with Chloe. He got it—she was gorgeous, vivacious, and had a body that would not quit.

The truth was, he didn't have a good answer for them.

He just was.

Yes, he'd had a few wayward thoughts about her during puberty, but once he'd started having regular sex with girls in the backseat of his Dad's Buick, he was able to keep her firmly in the friend category.

Chloe was a part of his life. As much family to him as his own, and he couldn't imagine his world without her.

As far as he was concerned, that was better than sex.

Sex, chemistry, those things faded, but Chloe was forever.

He laughed. “You and your selfies.”

“I promised I'd text our moms when we got here. They'll love it.”

She positioned them in front of one of the webs so it looked like the big blowup spider was about to crawl on top of their heads. Jack leaned down close to her face, pressing his rough, stubbled cheek against her soft one while she snapped their picture.

Just as Chloe shot off the text, the front door flew open, and Chloe's aunt Iris flew out. Jack stood aside as the two women hugged and kissed, generally talking over each other in greeting.

He didn't say a word as Iris talked a mile a minute as she ushered them inside.

The foyer of the house contained a makeshift front desk, adorned with pumpkin garland and what Chloe informed him were called twinkle lights. The house was open with a large piano in the living room and a big common table with large candles running down the center.

It was all quite charming and beautiful. Chloe was going to have a field day in this place. She lived for stuff like this, and Jack found he couldn't quite be mad about the bees entrenched in Aunt Iris's walls.

There was a woman standing at the desk, looking custom-designed to match the décor. Jack had no idea how old she was. She could have been forty; she could have been a hundred. She had that wise look about her he sometimes saw in the elderly patients he treated, but her face was virtually unlined. Expression serene, she had long gray hair and matching eyes.

There were also beads. Lots and lots of beads. She looked like an exotic Christmas tree from a faraway land.

She smiled and clapped her bejeweled hands. The woman clearly had a thing for jewelry, but in fairness, she wore it well.

“Ah, I'm so glad you could join us this lovely weekend.” Her unusual silver-gray eyes twinkled. “It's going to be a magical night, filled with wonderful surprises.”

Yeah, that's exactly what Jack was afraid of.

Aunt Iris patted Jack's arm. “I'm so sorry about this, I hope you don't mind.”

“Of course not”—he gave the older woman a squeeze—“we're just happy to be here.”

“I promise you'll have fun.” She held out her hands as though presenting the woman behind the counter. “This is Amelia Rose. She's the owner of this marvelous place. Now, I know you've been inconvenienced, but I promise you this is a special treat. People come from all over just for a chance to stay at Rose Cottage on Halloween night.”

Chloe turned around, her expression fixed in that happy, excited look she got. She grinned. “This place is fantastic. I love it.”

“Thank you, Chloe,” Amelia Rose said, her voice light and lyrical. “After you and your Jack get settled, I'd like to invite you for tea and cookies.”

Maybe Chloe was right about this being a quiet party.

Tea and cookies didn't exactly evoke the same images as the night they'd spent on Bourbon Street in New Orleans celebrating their twenty-first birthdays.

Half that night was still a black hole where his memory should be.

Not that he had anything against parties, because he liked having a good time as much as the next person. Only he was burnt out, working far too much lately. Insane, grueling hours at the hospital, and he needed a break from crazy.

What he really needed was a nap.

Chloe jumped up and down with apparent glee. “We'd love that, wouldn't we, Jack?”

Iris and Amelia Rose looked at him, gazes questioning.

He patted his stomach. “I do love cookies.”

Just then a woman juggling a huge pumpkin cake flew through the living room on her way to the dining room.

Jack grimaced. “Does she need help?”

“All's well,” Amelia Rose said, in her calm voice. She had an accent but it was hard to distinguish the region. “Let me show you to your room.”

A single skeleton key dangled from a rose key chain off her slim fingers.

Jack stared at the key, then turned and raised a brow at Chloe.

A small frown formed at her lips, before her expression brightened. She grabbed the key from the woman's hand, then tilted her head pointedly at him. “Jack needs his key, too.”

The woman glanced first at Chloe and then at Jack. “I'm afraid I only had one room available, and I only have that because of a last-minute cancelation, but Iris assured me that wouldn't be a problem.”

Chloe swung in her aunt's direction. “Aunt Iris, you said you had rooms for us.”

The older lady cleared her throat. “I said I had
a
room.”

Chloe's brow creased, as though concentrating, before she sighed. “You did.” She turned toward him. “Do you mind?”

He was exhausted and all he wanted was to kick his feet up and relax, maybe shut his eyes for five minutes.

He shrugged one shoulder. “Not a big deal.”

So they had to share a room. Yes, being able to lie around in his boxer-briefs would have been nice, but such was life. Chloe was an easy person to be around and they'd probably be together every second anyway, unless they were sleeping.

Besides, they'd shared plenty of rooms in their long acquaintance. They'd grown up next-door neighbors. They'd camped out in backyard tents, snuck into each other's rooms as kids. Now she occasionally crashed at his house or he at hers. Sleeping in a double room wasn't the end of the world.

And all he really wanted was to lie down.

Chloe tucked her hair behind her ear. “Are you sure? I know you've had a tough couple of shifts and probably want to veg.”

She was right, but she didn't infringe on that, except for the underwear part, and sweatpants were just as comfortable. He'd ditch the boxers and probably be even more comfortable. “I can veg with you there.”

She smiled. “I'll be quiet as a mouse.”

He loved her, but quiet she was not. “Chloe, if you stay quiet for five minutes I'll consider it a miracle.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, then made a motion with her hand like she zipped her lips, before she tossed the imaginary key over her shoulder.

Amelia Rose pointed down the hallway. “You're in room number three, a lucky number, you know.”

For reasons unknown to him, a bad feeling settled in Jack's chest, but he shook it off. There was nothing to worry about. This was not the first in a series of unpleasant events. Everything would be fine.

“No, I didn't know,” Chloe said.

Amelia Rose nodded. “I modeled the room with the three of cups in mind. From the tarot. It's one of the best cards to get in a reading.”

“How fascinating,” Chloe said. “What does it mean?”

The woman gave Chloe a peaceful smile. “When you come to tea I'll tell you. In fact, I'll do even better and give you a reading, if you're interested.”

Chloe's expression lit with excitement. “I'd love to. I've always wanted to get my cards done, but never found the opportunity.”

“You've come to the right place,” Amelia Rose said, her face shrouded in mystery. She gestured down the hall to their room. “Your fortune awaits.”

Chloe hooked her arm in his. “This is going to be excellent.”

Jack chuckled. “Let's go check out our room.”

As they walked down the hall to door number three, a slither of unease slid down his spine. He had the sudden urge to look over his shoulder, but he didn't know why.

Chloe slid the key into the lock.

Jack's heart gave a hard
thump
.

The door opened.

“Oh,” Chloe said. Her voice a bit breathless.

He peered over her head.

There was only one bed. One very small bed.

So far the number three was anything but lucky.