What The Heart Knows (6 page)

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Authors: Jessica Gadziala

BOOK: What The Heart Knows
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It
was supposed to be fun. Now all she could think of was having to run
into James every step of the way. With his cocky smile because he
knew he was the one with the upper hand at the moment. Granted, she
was going to try like hell to beat him at his own little game, but
she just didn't have the damndest clue how to go about that yet.

She
pulled her hair into a ponytail and slipped into old, soft skinny
jeans and a short black sweatshirt with a white skeletal rib cage
across the front and back. It had a hood she could pull up to block
out the spooky stuff in her peripheral if it all became too much.

Emily
slipped into a pair of sneakers and made her way to the kitchen. The
inn was oddly quiet, the guests still asleep and the staff not
arrived yet. She pushed in through the dining room and was met with
the smell of fresh coffee. Good old Meggie.

“You're
up early,” a voice that was decidedly not Meggie said.

The
only light on in the kitchen was the one over the stove, casting most
of the room in near-darkness. But she didn't need light to know whose
voice she had heard. What the hell was he doing up?

“Busy
day,” she said, moving past where he was sitting and pouring
herself a cup of coffee.

“I
hear this town is something else today,” he said, moving away
from the counter and coming toward her to refill his mug.

“Yeah,”
Emily said, trying to sound neutral. Like nothing had happened. He
absolutely, positively did not kiss her silly in an orchard less than
twenty-four hours ago. Nope. “We close all services at noon.
Guests are free to come and go, but we don't do food, riding lessons,
or check ins or
outs until
after the Halloween dance at the school.”

“Interesting,”
James said, turning toward her.

Her
eyes dropped immediately to his lips before going lower to take in
his outfit. Comfortable jeans and a gray t-shirt. It had two
candy-corns embracing with the words 'Give me some SUGAR' written
above them. She felt her eyes widen for a second. He had worn it on
purpose? To fuck with her? Well, he wasn't going to get any kind of
reaction that was for damn sure.

“Yeah,
everyone goes so it seems unfair to leave someone strapped to the
desk or locked away in the kitchen when the whole town is somewhere
else.”

“Makes
sense,” he said, stepping closer. His pelvis was pressed
against hers as he reached behind her back. She had a moment of
absolute certainty that he was going to grab her ass when she saw his
brow raise as he stepped away, holding out two sugar packets. “Just
getting some sugar, honey,” he said, his tone amused. Another
point for him.

Damn
it.

“So
what events are you planning on hitting up today?” she asked,
angling her head to the side.

“As
many as I can fit in. Haunted hayride, haunted maze, haunted house,
the dance thing...” his voiced trailed off, watching her
absentmindedly wipe the already clean counter top. “What about
you?”

Should
she tell him? What would be the point in lying? She would probably
bump into him at some point anyway. “I like to brave the
haunted maze every year. It's like a haunted house but more
terrifying because you're completely trapped. They change the maze
layout every year so no one can master it.”

“What
about the dance at the school? I hear that is like the main event.”

“Maybe.
If I am up for it.” Any other year, that would be a lie. She
always planned on going. Maybe having a few too many cups of Maude's
Widow Maker Punch. Dancing way too close to one or two good looking
men and if one was lucky, and worthy, going home with him. She loved
that event. He was the only reason she was having reservations.

“Got
a costume picked out?”

“Of
course.”

There
was a jiggling sound at the door that led outside, keys in the lock.
A second later the light flicked on and there was Lena, arms full of
plastic containers holding the morning's breakfast. She was gorgeous
with her icy blonde hair and constantly changing hazel eyes. She wore
a pair of tight black yoga pants and one of Eric's old gray
sweatshirts. Emily looked at her, forever surprised how much she had
changed since she first arrived in Stars Landing with her hair pulled
into a merciless bun and forever wearing office clothes and high
heels. Painfully uptight and unhappy.

Apparently
falling for the local bad boy had done wonders for her disposition.
Everything about her seemed lighter, more carefree. And while her
eyes still held a keen, almost unnerving sort of intelligence and
drive, it was directed toward trying to build a thriving baking
business. She had all kinds of five, ten, twenty year plans. But she
seemed relaxed. Happy. Pretty much perpetually seemed freshly fucked.
And knowing the chemistry between her and Eric... that was probably
the case.

“Lena,
you gorgeous thing, you,” James said, moving quickly across the
floor. He had a huge, genuinely happy smile spread across his
face,making his eyes crinkle up at the edges. Emily reached behind
her, grabbing the counter and squeezing it painfully.

“James?”
Lena said, quickly dropping the containers onto the counter and
running toward him, arms open.

They
embraced with the familiarity of old friends, holding on for a long
time, hands planted in safe places. James swirled her around, lifting
her up off her feet as he turned. Lena laughed, holding on tightly.
He finally set her back down on her feet, stepping away. “You
look fantastic,” he said, his tone holding none of the flirting
suggestiveness it did when he spoke to other women. “Happy.”

“I
am,” Lena said, smiling up at him. “It's so crazy to see
you here. I knew you were coming, but it's... surreal. No islands to
lay on? Models to... lay on?” Lena smirked.

“I
got that out of my system right before I came here,” he said
and it sounded like it was the truth. “I've eaten like six
different Lena Edwards desserts around this town already. You're
amazing. And I need to find that man of yours and thank him for the
scotch. I've needed it,” he said, sending Emily a sideways
glance.

“Oh,
hey Em,” Lena said, motioning toward the plastic containers. “I
brought you something extra special today,” she said, her eyes
bright, her tone almost flirtatious. Because she knew how much Emily
loved treats.

“You're
a goddess,” Emily said, walking behind James and toward the
container Lena was opening.

Inside
were four large shot glasses filled with pudding and covered with
crumbled cookies. White cookie stood up out of the pretend dirt with
the letters RIP painted on them. Tiny sprigs of baby's breath flowers
poked up from the ground in front of the grave.

“Oh
my god, Lena,” Emily groaned, reaching for one. “I love
you. Tell Eric he's had his fun. You're mine now.” She took the
spoon James held out toward her and sunk it into the concoction. As
soon as the spoon was in her mouth, her eyes closed and she moaned.

“Two
to one,” she swore she heard James mutter.

“I
cant promise I wont just... keep you chained to the oven... but I
think you could make me happy,” Emily finished, smacking James'
hand as he reached for one of her puddings.

“I
could tell Eric,” Lena said, pretending to look serious. “I
think it is going to conjure all kinds of images in his head though.”

“Oh,
gross,” Emily scrunched her nose up. Despite having been the
two biggest flirts in town from ages sixteen and on, Emily and Eric
had never had much interest in each other. Their connection was the
teasing bond of siblings. “Never mind. Don't say anything.”

“Alright,”
Lena said, smiling at James again. “I have to go get all the
sweets around. Did you know the Sinclair house made me create them
their own signature candy to hand out to trick-or-treaters? Crazy.
I'll see you guys at the school later, right? I'm so excited.
Everyone keeps talking about how amazing the Halloween events are.”

Sometimes
Emily forgot how new Lena was to town. Half a year or so. It seemed
like she had been there forever already. “Okay,” Emily
said, reaching for another pudding. “See you there. Thanks for
these.”

“Anytime,”
Lena said, going over and planting a kiss on James' cheek. “I
want to catch up with you sometime soon, okay?”

“Of
course, gorgeous. See you around.”

The
door closed as she left and James turned to her, his eyes big and
puppy-dogish. “Please,” he begged, pointing toward the
two leftover puddings.

“I
thought you said you were sweet enough,” she shot back, making
a show of taking her next spoonful.

“It's
Halloween,” he reasoned. “Come on...”

“Fine,”
Emily said, finding herself smiling. “One,” she warned as
he reached for the glass.

James
took the shot glass and clinked it against hers. “Cheers,”
he said, moving out toward the door to the dining room. “I'll
see you later.”

Emily
watched the door swing a few times before settling. What was that? No
flirtation? No suggestion? No nothing? What was he planning?

Emily
took the last pudding and made her way to the front desk. It was
going to be an interesting day.

Six

The
farm was packed. Teenagers stood around, playing hookie from school,
which the administration overlooked on the occasion of town
functions. Emily parked, waved at a few people she knew and made her
way toward the back.

The
maze was massive structure that took up most of an acre of land. It
was built primarily of hay stacks lined in cornstalks, solid but
giving, in case someone needed to push through a wall to get out. The
farm owner, Charlie, a man in his thirties with long stringy brown
hair and a somewhat morbid disposition, was perched in the box of a
cherry picker high above the maze. Watching. Probably enjoying the
terror a bit, but also making sure no one had a heart or panic
attack.

Emily
walked over to the sign-in table, nodding at the volunteer paramedic
sitting on top of a haystack. The town vet was probably volunteering
at the haunted house, the dentist at the haunted hayride. It was a
town wholly lacking in medical professionals.

She
signed her name on the clipboard, paid her ten dollars, and was
handed a whistle to keep in her hand... just in case.

As
much as she hated to admit it, she was a bit of a chicken. She fell
for it every time a scary movie had someone pop out from a dark
corner, bolting up off the chair and screeching. But she loved the
adrenaline. She loved the rush of fear. So she kept renting the
movies. And she kept seeking out haunted attractions. Even if she
made a fool of herself screaming like she was being murdered.

She
watched a group of sixteen year olds go in ahead of her. She stood
there waiting a minute, letting them get further so she could enjoy
her fear by herself. There was a sign hanging above her head.

Go
ahead and scream. No one can hear you.

She
took a deep breath and forced her feet forward, the metal whistle
digging into her palm painfully. She was around the third turn and
still nothing had sneaked up on her or dropped down from above her.

The
cornstalks parted suddenly and a clown in black and white clothes and
makeup moved to block her path, staring at her. Then moving around
her in a circle. She felt the creepiness settle into her stomach,
making her skin feel like it was crawling. He toyed with the end of
her ponytail, leaning in and sniffing her neck. Sometimes there were
things more fear inducing than a simple jump-scare. She stood frozen,
watching as a machete suddenly appeared. Real. Metal. Not a prop. He
slid it up her leg, her belly...

“Oh
my god,” someone... young, female gasped, making Emily start,
look around for a second, then run.

A
huge plastic pendulum swung down in front of her, making her yelp,
forcing her to duck down underneath it, looking at her feet. Making
her miss the hoard of zombies clawing their way out of the corn.

She
hated fucking zombies.

She
turned and ran, screaming. A hand reached out, grabbing the hem of
her shirt. She stumbled, hitting the ground hard, scrambling a few
feet. To her side, a chainsaw fired up. She shot up to her feet,
bolting forward blindly. She made it around two more turns, looking
over her shoulder, and plowing into something solid in front of her.

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