Cloudy with a Chance of Witchcraft: A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Romance Novel

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Cloudy with a Chance of Witchcraft: A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Romance Novel Page 5

by Roth, Mandy M.


  “Uh, no you didn’t. His man part fell into anything with two sets of lips,” she supplied, making me laugh.

  “You’re terrible.”

  “I know, and you love me for it. How far out are you?” she asked, her impatience shining through.

  “Just got off the exit ramp for Grimm Cove. I can see the sign for the town now,” I said as I looked at the large sign off the side of the road. It was wooden and handcrafted with a huge cauldron, set before a full moon, with an owl off to one side, a wolf near the cauldron, and bats flying past the moon. That hadn’t been there before. The old sign had a full moon but nothing else.

  The new one was gorgeous.

  It now listed the town’s motto, which was, apparently, “A Last-Stop Destination.”

  Charming.

  And the sign also listed the population. “Wow. It’s like doubled in size. Does that make it a city now or is it still a town? Also, does it make me sound like a twit for not knowing what the difference between a town and a city is?”

  “Not at all,” said Dana. “Pretty sure you can save a person with a dandelion and honey, so you’re strong in other areas.”

  “Thanks for simplifying what I do,” I said with a chuckle.

  “Hey, I stand behind that tea thing you made me with the honey, weeds, and other stuff in it. Fixed that chest cold I couldn’t shake,” she said. “Tasted like shit though.”

  I laughed more.

  Dana grunted. “You know, when you told me how awesome this place was and how much you loved spending your summers here, you could have mentioned it was Hell themed.”

  “It’s not Hell themed. It’s supernatural themed,” I corrected.

  “Might as well be. There’s a sign that says there’s a Hell Fire Charity Event coming up. I don’t even want to know what charity that might support.”

  I shook my head even though she couldn’t see me. “Stop. It’s something that happens every year in Grimm Cove. It benefits the fire department.”

  “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” she asked sarcastically. “Question.”

  “Yes?”

  “What is Poe Day?” she asked. “Is it a celebration for sub sandwiches?”

  “No. It’s something that honors Edgar Allan Poe,” I returned. “The local high school usually puts on a play. Once, it was a musical. I helped with the set design, but since I didn’t attend high school there, I didn’t actually participate in the play.”

  “You are so very, very dark and disturbing,” she returned. “I love it. For real though, how is it you were born here, and spent so many summers here, but never once mentioned you were apparently spawned in the middle of an Addams Family movie?”

  A shaky laugh came from me. “I loved my time there. I told you that back in college. Then Grandpa passed and I just, well, I didn’t talk about it much anymore. So, change of subject. How is the house? How is the inside?”

  “I couldn’t tell you. We’ve been here waiting for you for nearly thirty minutes. The key isn’t where you said it would be and Marcy is making friends with a squirrel. No. I’m not joking.”

  “His name is Burgess!” shouted Marcy in the background. “He just introduced himself to me. He’s been waiting to meet me. He’s my familiar.”

  I sighed. “Did you let her smoke anything funny or has she been eating pot gummies again?”

  Dana chuckled. “Nope. This is just all her. She’s a freak but she’s our freak. Any idea where the key to this place might be?”

  “The caretaker said the key would be under the flowerpot on the porch,” I returned.

  Dana snorted. “Did she happen to mention which flowerpot, seeing as how there are like fifty? Just so you know, this is totally your happy place. Plants are everywhere. You’ll think you died and went to some botanical heaven. Was it like this when you were younger?”

  I bit my lower lip, thinking about my grandmother and the countless hours we spent tending to her gardens, greenhouse, and flowers. “Yes. Grandma had flowers and plants everywhere.”

  “Not much has changed then,” said Dana. “Again, your happy place. I can’t keep any plants alive. I’m like the Grim Reaper of nature. This is also why I refused to get a pet and did not have any crotch goblins. I don’t care for things well.”

  I snorted at her term for children.

  As far as her being unable to care for things well, I had to stop and call bull. “Really? You care for Marcy and me. You’re fiercely overprotective of us, and I know that even though you like to pretend Marcy gets on your last nerve, you love her like a sister and would rip a person’s throat out for hurting her.”

  “Damn straight,” said Dana. “Now, about this hidden key. Any idea which pot I should be looking under? It is under one, right? Not buried in one?”

  I thought about Maria, the woman who I’d spoken with on the phone who had been overseeing the care of the property for years. “Maria didn’t mention there was more than one flowerpot there still. But I’ll be there in a minute. I can help look. We can call her if need be.”

  It was hard to believe that in only six months, my entire world had flipped upside down when my husband had told me that he didn’t love me anymore, and that he was having an affair. In that short period of time, Dana had managed to help me secure a divorce with equal division of everything (meaning he didn’t get the house, but neither did I), and she’d helped arrange for me to move to Grimm Cove.

  Of course, there had been a few tweaks to the overall plan. Like she was now joining me in the new endeavor, along with our friend Marcy.

  Dana had told the district attorney in no uncertain terms that he could go and “pleasure himself” since he’d gotten handsy with her one too many times. She’d picked a crowded courtroom to do it in though. When all was said and done, she decided a change of scenery was in order. As luck would have it, Maria mentioned a lawyer in Grimm Cove was set to retire and looking for someone to take over his firm.

  And Marcy was a free bird who didn’t like to be caged. She was always up for an adventure and didn’t like to plan things out. She liked it when she went with the flow of whatever astrological thing she was into at the moment. Thankfully, the stars had seemed to align.

  I needed Grimm Cove to work out for us all. I couldn’t handle anything in my life being turned on its head again. I needed to find a sense of normalcy and get on with living my life.

  I was about to be forty, not dead. I wasn’t about to let the world count me out just yet. I had a lot of life left in me and maybe, someday, I’d find someone who loved me as much as I loved them. The kind of person who made me smile fondly when thinking of him—a lot like thoughts of Brett managed to do.

  I’d make damn sure the person I found didn’t spend more time primping in a mirror than me though. I didn’t need another Thomas.

  He’d been nothing but difficult throughout all the divorce proceedings, which hadn’t come as much of a surprise to me. I’d had the great displeasure of meeting the woman he’d selected over me. “Woman” was a strong word since I was pretty sure she still got carded at bars. To me, Marla—or “Darla” as Dana liked to refer to her as, to annoy her—looked like a child. I wasn’t the only one who thought it. Dana had flat out laughed long and hard at Thomas and his new piece of arm candy when she’d met them.

  Truth be told.

  I’d laughed along with her.

  A lot of leg crossing happened that day.

  The twins had refused to spend anything in the way of quality time with their father since they’d learned of the separation and divorce. And they went out of their way to avoid Marla. I’d tried telling them that the parting had been a mutual decision between their father and myself, and that no one party was to blame for why the marriage was ending, just that we’d grown apart, but they’d not bought a line of it.

  They’d always been able to read more into things than others. There were times I really disliked that fact.

  As much as I didn’t like Thomas
and never wanted to see him again, he was still their father and they needed to have a relationship with him. They’d regret it later if they didn’t.

  But they weren’t having any of it.

  “Where are you now?” asked Dana, sounding like an excited child.

  I had to wonder how much caffeine she’d had today. “Getting closer. See you in a second. I’m hanging up now.”

  “Awesome. I’ll keep looking for the lost key and trying to keep Marcy from making friends with any more wildlife. She’s kind of like Snow White’s blonder, more deranged cousin or something.”

  Reaching into my bag, I disconnected the call without needing to look down and kept driving.

  The two-lane road was well kept and picturesque, like I remembered it being, though there were decidedly more businesses and homes in Grimm Cove than I remembered. Apparently, it really had expanded in the last twenty years.

  I had to admit Dana might have been onto something with the Addams Family reference. I’d never really thought it was odd. It just was the way of things. Most of the homes in the section I was driving through were huge, gothic Victorians. Some looked immaculate. Others looked as if cobwebs were the main décor.

  My attention went to a rather huge Victorian home that was done in medium gray with white trim. The accents were a rich plum. When I’d last seen the home, it had been owned by an older woman whom Brett had done odd jobs for, helping to mow her lawn and doing things around the house for her since she didn’t have any family of her own. She’d become something of a surrogate grandmother to him.

  I wondered who owned it now, since the woman had already been in her nineties twenty years ago.

  As I glanced forward once more, I did a double take as I spotted Marla standing in the center of the street.

  My mind barely had a moment to register what I was seeing when she rippled, almost like a mirage, and in her place was a huge buck running down the center of the road, right at me.

  I swerved to avoid hitting the massive deer and lost control of my truck. I veered off the road, went up and over the curb, and headed straight for a huge oak tree.

  I continued to press on my brakes and braced for impact. Somehow, I managed to get the truck to stop just as it tapped the tree. I put it in park and sat there, staring wide-eyed at the tree trunk that was nearly as wide as the width of my truck front. My pulse was racing, and I was fairly sure my heart had leapt out and followed the buck down the street.

  I sat there a moment, positive I’d lost my mind. How else could I explain thinking I saw my ex-husband’s girlfriend standing in the middle of the street in Grimm Cove only to realize what I’d been seeing was a huge deer?

  Not sure how I managed to get the two confused.

  Maybe it was high time I went in to get my vision checked. I’d never needed glasses before, but clearly turning forty in a day meant things were starting to fall apart fast on me.

  I was hallucinating my ex’s girlfriend and narrowly avoiding hitting a rogue deer. Yes. It was going great so far.

  Five

  Poppy

  The door to the gray Victorian home opened and a man stepped out wearing a pair of faded jeans that had flecks of white paint on them, a dark gray, fitted T-shirt that also had some paint on it, and a pair of work boots. He easily stood over six feet tall and had a head of jet-black hair with salt-and-pepper sideburns.

  The strangest thing happened.

  My mouth began to water as if I’d never seen a sexy man in my life before and hadn’t just nearly totally wrecked my truck. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but the cab of my truck suddenly felt as if it were on fire. Sure, it was warm and slightly humid in Grimm Cove, but nowhere near hot enough to make a trickle of sweat run down my spine.

  My gut said the sudden heat wave had more to do with the sight of the handsome hunk on the porch than the actual temperature. That or menopause had struck without warning. Since my menstrual cycle was still like clockwork, I doubted it was that. But still, I had to wonder. It wasn’t like it was out of the realm of reason for me to start experiencing them here at some point.

  I also had to try to force my gaze from the man’s bulging muscles. He wasn’t overly done like a bodybuilder might be. He was proportioned well, yet incredibly toned. And my hormones wanted to whip up signs with ten-ratings on them.

  Thankfully, they couldn’t do that.

  Stop staring.

  All that did was make me stare harder. Finally, I yanked my gaze up from the man’s torso back to his face.

  He was incredibly handsome and familiar.

  Very familiar.

  I froze.

  It couldn’t be who I thought it was, could it?

  Was that Brett?

  If so, the man had aged incredibly well.

  Had I not been in the middle of what I was sure was a panic attack, mixed with spontaneous combustion, I’d have taken a moment to admire the view he provided. Because it certainly was an amazing view.

  Get your head in the game, I scolded myself. He didn’t want you. Do not go all ga-ga over him now. It will only make you look pathetic. Back the truck up and leave. No harm. No foul.

  His eyes widened as he stared out at me.

  His mouth moved, and I didn’t need to be able to hear him to know what he’d said.

  Poppy.

  He was down the front porch and to the side of my truck in the blink of an eye. He opened the driver’s-side door quickly.

  “Poppy, are you hurt?” he asked, his deep voice filling the space. His Southern drawl had always been alluring to me. That evidently hadn’t changed with age.

  Try as I might, I found it difficult to focus as I stared into his chocolate-brown gaze. I’d spent a lot of time losing myself in those eyes years ago and fell back into old habits instantly. The man was my kryptonite, and I really wished that wasn’t the case.

  His brow creased and he reached into the truck, shutting it off but leaving the keys in the ignition. “Poppy, are you hurt?”

  “W-what?” I asked, taking a deep breath and catching a whiff of him. Did the man’s sweat even have to smell good? “B-Brett?”

  He let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, Poppy-seed, it’s me.”

  Poppy-seed.

  He used to call me that, many, many moons ago when life was simpler.

  I stared harder at him. “You filled out and got muscles. When did that happen?”

  I wanted the words back the moment they fell out of my mouth. When I’d thought of the moment I’d finally see Brett again (and let’s be honest, I’d thought about it a number of times over the years), blurting out that he’d gotten muscles wasn’t high on my list of things to say right out of the gate.

  Yet, it’s what fell out.

  He grinned, and I hated how much I’d missed seeing him do as much. “Finally grew into my height.”

  “It’s nice,” I said stupidly, wishing I’d just shut up. I was batting a thousand and really just needed to be on my way before I opened my mouth again and something else ridiculous sprung forth. “I mean, yeah. Um. Hi. I should go now. Bye.”

  He was still leaning partially into the cab of the truck when he said, “Poppy-seed, you haven’t answered me about being hurt or not.”

  “No. I’m not hurt,” I managed, realizing my hands were shaking as I clutched the steering wheel for dear life. I also noticed I was still pressing my foot down on the brake as if the truck might disengage from park and leap forward on its own to make a go at the tree. Since I was one hundred percent positive the tree would win, it wasn’t a battle I wanted to witness.

  With a calming breath, I took my foot from the brake and then looked over my shoulder. “Is the deer okay?”

  “Deer?” he asked.

  “There was a huge buck running down the center of the street. Right at me,” I said.

  “Gilbert,” he said partially under his breath, sounding annoyed.

  I tipped my head slightly. “You name the deer here? Since when?”

/>   “It’s a long story,” he said, stepping back slightly, his hand staying on the open door.

  I looked to the road again. “I-I thought for a second Marla was out there.”

  “Who?” he asked.

  “No one. You don’t know her.”

  He glanced toward the rear of my truck, and then at me, his gaze narrowing suspiciously. “Poppy, what are you doing back in Grimm Cove?”

  I lowered my gaze and did my best to collect myself. Why did I let the man have so much power over me even all these years later? “I’m going to be living in my grandparents’ old house. I won’t bother you. I promise. You won’t even notice I’m in town.”

  “Bother me?” he asked, staying in place.

  I folded my hands on my lap and swallowed hard, trying to keep my expression even. Everything I’d ever thought of saying if I saw him again struck me like a raging river, and try as I might to keep my head afloat and grasp for something insightful to say, everything seemed to slip through my fingers.

  I went with the truth. “You told me not to contact you again. That we couldn’t be friends or see each other anymore. I honored that and plan to continue to honor it. I swear I didn’t mean to almost hit Mrs. Belliveau’s tree—wait, what are you doing here at Mrs. Belliveau’s house? Is she still alive?”

  “Poppy-seed, look at me, please,” he said.

  Reluctantly, I did. But I knew it wasn’t a smart move. He was a major weakness for me. Always had been and apparently always would be.

  While my body had gotten older since I’d last seem him, my heart had remained frozen in time, and it was scared of what he had the power to do to it. The organ had survived having my marriage of nineteen years go down the crapper, but it wouldn’t make it through any more pain caused by Brett.

  “No. Mrs. Belliveau isn’t alive anymore. I own the house now,” he said, surprising me.

  “You bought it? Really?” I asked, a smile touching my lips. I knew I should just go. Just head right for my grandparents’ home and not look back. But I remembered how much Brett had always been into architecture when we were young, and how he’d go into long detail explaining the finer points of Mrs. Belliveau’s home and what made it so special. “That’s good. I know you always liked it. Especially that huge workshop her husband had built out back. The house looks beautiful on the outside. You’ve done an amazing job with it. I should go now.”

 

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