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

by Roth, Mandy M.

  Jeffrey spoke out of the side of his mouth, as if he was trying to be stealthy. “Think she knows we’re older than her?”

  Brett scoffed. “Pretty sure she knows we’re numerically older than her, but in reality we’re like ten-year-old boys in her mind right now.”

  “Try four-year-olds,” said Poppy, thrusting a plate at him.

  He took it and then bent, stealing a kiss from her quickly.

  Jeffrey made a gagging noise. “Gross. Girls are icky.”

  Brett laughed.

  Dana came in from the back porch with a beer in her hand. “You’re not into women?”

  Jeffrey stood ramrod straight at the sight of her. “I love women. Big fan of women.”

  She shook her head as she strolled past him, getting herself a plate of pizza. “Poppy, you and Marcy all done trying to burn the joint down?”

  “I told you we were smudging to remove the negative energy,” said Poppy.

  “Yeah and it seemed weird to me then too. Not sure why though. It wasn’t as if my grandmother didn’t spend my childhood nailing crosses to all the rooms in our apartment. She also kept a small bowl of seeds near the door in the event of a vampire attack. I really have no clue what she planned to do with the seeds. Maybe shove them up his backside in hopes an apple tree or something would take root.”

  Brett stiffened.

  So did Jeffrey.

  “Your grandmother believes in vampires?” asked Jeffrey.

  “Oh yeah. And demons. And the devil. And ghosts. And she was totally convinced the guy who lived three levels down from us was really a shape-shifter who preyed upon young women. I once found her nailing something to his front door. I later learned it was some wreath made out of wolfsbane.”

  Brett and Jeffrey both fought to maintain their composure.

  He couldn’t pick up on Dana being anything more than human; then again, he couldn’t sense anything different with Marcy either, and it was clear she was more than she appeared to be.

  Jeffrey swallowed hard. “And what happened after she nailed the wreath to the guy’s door?”

  “Not really sure what happened to him,” said Dana with a big shrug. “I do know that the neighborhood was abuzz with rumors about some big dog being rabid in the area. Fliers even went out about staying indoors after dark. I remember being little still and handing my mother one when she was about to head out after sunset.”

  Brett did his best to appear calm. It was evident the woman didn’t realize what her neighborhood had been dealing with—a shifter who was crazed.

  “And did she listen to you and stay inside?” asked Jeffrey, his voice tight.

  Dana shook her head.

  “Is she okay?” blurted Brett, worried that Dana’s mother might have died by the hands of one of his kind.

  “No, but she was that night,” said Dana, her posture changing slightly to indicate the topic wasn’t one she liked. “It was a strange night. I’d never seen a limo in person before back then. That evening one pulled up in front of our building, and let me tell you, our building wasn’t one anything fancy was parking in front of. Then out stepped this really tall man with hair as dark as night. There was something about him that made you want to look at him. I remember his complexion the most. It was like one of the dolls I had. Porcelain.”

  Vampire.

  “My mom had already left for the night and my grandmother had fallen asleep in her chair. When I saw the limo from the window, I crept out of the apartment and ran down to the stairs to see who had come to visit our neighborhood. I sort of figured it was royalty or something.”

  Brett prepared to grab Jeffrey because every instinct in him told him that his friend would take the news there had been a vampire near Dana really poorly.

  He was right.

  Jeffrey growled and Brett could smell the pending shift on him.

  He grabbed Jeffrey’s lower arm and squeezed hard.

  Jeffrey ripped his arm free and nodded, taking several deep breaths, getting control of himself.

  Brett couldn’t recall a time his alpha had acted like this around a woman. Dana was doing a number on the man.

  “D-did he hurt you?” demanded Jeffrey in a way that said he was more worried for Dana’s safety than anything else.

  Brett nearly groaned. It was evident she was fine.

  Dana snorted. “No. He was nice and worried about me. Something started howling from the alley across the street and the man bent fast, telling me to go inside and not to come out for anything.”

  Jeffrey clutched his chest as if the trip down memory lane might cause him to have a heart attack. “And did you go in?”

  “Pfft. No. I pretended like I was going to listen and when he hurried across the street, I followed him. Saw my mom was over there. She was standing in the alley, circling the giant rabid dog. She was reading it the riot act. The guy from the limo knew her name. He was worried about her. He told her she had me to worry about and to go—let him handle the matter. She did and when she saw me there, hiding at the end of the alley, watching it all, she yelled at me all the way back to the apartment.”

  “Good,” said Jeffrey, exhaling.

  Brett felt as if there was more to it all than Dana was telling them. “Did you ever see the limo guy again?”

  She nodded. “He was at my mother’s funeral. I think he paid for it but didn’t want me to know. He stood just outside of the church, looking in at the service. He was gone when it was over though. I don’t have any proof that he paid for it all, but someone handled the expenses and my gut says it was him. I think he handled the hospital bill for my mom too. It was huge but when I tried to make arrangements from school, I was told it had been paid in full. Poppy tried to help me figure out who had done it so I could thank them, but everyone was tight-lipped.”

  “The service was beautiful,” said Poppy, going to Dana and taking her hand in hers. “The flowers are still some of the prettiest I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  “Yeah,” said Dana, still appearing tough on the outside when Brett could sense she was hurting on the inside.

  “Where was your father through this all?” asked Jeffrey.

  Poppy shook her head slightly, clearly trying to get Jeffrey to shut up.

  Dana patted Poppy’s hand. “It’s fine. I don’t know. Never met him. He died when I was little. And I never met anyone from his side of the family.”

  Poppy bumped hips with her friend. “Hey. That might not be true. You might have met someone related to you tonight.”

  “That would be something, huh?” asked Dana with a laugh. “Kind of gross if you think about the fact I was willing to go full-on cougar on him before I learned his last name.”

  Poppy chuckled. “Yes. You were. Bad girl.”

  “Who are we talking about here?” asked Jeffrey, his body language saying the answer would only serve to set him off more.

  “I’m starved,” said Brett, wanting off the topic. “Let’s go out to the porch and eat.”

  Jeffrey opened his mouth and Poppy nodded to him.

  “Jeffrey, how about we all go eat?” she asked in a way that said she wasn’t actually asking.

  He grunted but nodded all the same.

  Sixteen

  Brett

  Brett sat next to Poppy on the floor of the screened-in back porch, his long legs spread out before him. Brett stretched his leg a bit. His trick knee was bothering him after going up and down the stairs so much today and doing so much in the way of bending, but he was fine with the discomfort. It meant he’d gotten to spend his day with Poppy. Something he was still having issues believing was true.

  Making out with her in the kitchen had seriously been the highlight of the last two decades for him, and he hoped it was only the tip of the iceberg between them. That soon they’d be doing the horizontal bop—but not until he knew he could control his wolf.

  Which might very well be never when it came to her.

  They’d made a nice dent in the un
packing, getting the kitchen totally done, the downstairs bathroom squared away and in working order, and the room Poppy’s grandmother had used for her witchy items all done. But the home was huge. It had seven bedrooms and four full bathrooms. Not to mention a full, renovated attic and a study full of old books. Then there were the two greenhouses and massive potting shed. On top of it all, there was a detached garage.

  It would take some time, but they’d get the home back to the state it had once been in. He had to admit the home used to be one of his favorites in the town. Mrs. Belliveau’s place, that he owned now and had done the restoration on, had been his second favorite. The Proctors’ home had always been a sight to behold. There had been something about it that was not only welcoming, but quite literally magikal.

  He could sense the power in the home, just below its surface, almost as if it were scratching to be free once more. He had to wonder how much of it was locked down by the negative energy.

  When Tucker had passed away and her grandmother had moved to Connecticut, the house had been closed up. Sure, someone stopped by to check on it and saw to it the yard was tended to, but the home itself had been left to wither away.

  That had been sad to watch happening. It served as an ever-present reminder that Poppy was gone.

  He’d even tried to purchase the home once, while her grandmother had still been alive, but she’d politely declined his offer from afar, telling him in a handwritten note that there was no need to buy it when destiny already had it in store for him. He’d chalked that up to her age. He didn’t foresee that ever happening, especially since at the time he’d assumed Poppy would be married to Thomas for the long haul.

  How could the man let her get away?

  You did.

  He flinched as his inner voice chimed in, reminding him that he’d screwed up big time with her, letting her slip through his grasp once.

  But now he’d do all he could to right that wrong.

  He set his paper plate on the white wicker coffee table that was there and then put his wadded-up napkin on the plate.

  He patted his nonexistent gut. “I ate too much.”

  Dana laughed. “Nah. My Italian grandmother would say you didn’t eat enough.”

  Poppy’s eyes widened and she nodded. “It’s true. Her grandmother once nearly force-fed me while I was pregnant with the twins. I had horrible morning, noon, and night sickness with them. She came out for a visit with Dana, saw how much weight I’d lost despite being three months pregnant, and I thought for sure this small woman was going to pin me down and shove food in my mouth.”

  Dana grinned. “She was going to. I had to talk her down from it. Good thing you broke out one of those old wives’ tale fixes your grandmother taught you.”

  Marcy sat in one of the wicker chairs with an old book of herbs and their magikal uses. She’d been engrossed the entire time they’d been eating. She had insisted on having a beer but then refused to open it, and forbid anyone else from opening it either. She’d politely informed Brett when he’d offered that it was where it needed to be and was fine as it was. He let the subject drop.

  Poppy set her plate next to Brett’s and snuggled against him.

  He liked this, having her close, as if all the time apart hadn’t actually happened. He felt like the same twenty-one-year-old man he’d been when they’d parted ways. Hell, he was pretty sure he was even more giddy at the idea of something more with her now than he’d been when he was young and green.

  She’d taken the news about him having bought a ring much better than he’d thought. While he was still pissed that Jeffrey had taken it upon himself to announce as much, Brett was thankful that the truth was out there. Now he just had to find a way to tell Poppy that he was a wolf-shifter and that Grimm Cove was full of supernaturals—oh, and that she was one at least to some degree.

  Baby steps, Kasper.

  He’d hinted at the truth about the town, but he hadn’t outright said it all to her in terms that left no wiggle room.

  He grunted and Poppy glanced up at him, her head against his upper arm. “You okay?”

  “I’m good. How are you doing? Tired? You had a long drive here and then spent the day cleaning, unpacking, and, well, cleaning in other ways,” he said, talking about the cleansing. “Offer still stands for y’all to come to my place if you want.”

  Dana set her beer on the table as she leaned forward in her chair, a plate of pizza on her lap. “How sweet that you think because we’re in our forties we want to have an eight o’clock bedtime and that we as women are too delicate to be alone.”

  Poppy yawned. “I may need an early bedtime. I’m exhausted. Apparently, I am delicate.”

  Travis, who was sitting over at the round, four-chair white table, polishing off an entire large pizza by himself, raised a hand. “I ate enough to fall into a coma. If I drop, leave me be, okay? I’m thirty-eight but feel double that right now.”

  Knowing the man the way Brett did, he’d be asleep at the table before long. He was like a giant toddler. He could sleep anywhere.

  “You going to make it?” asked Brett, wondering just how much Travis had to drink.

  Travis had been going through a rough patch in his life the last few years, and while he had a support system around him of people who cared, he tended to resist the help.

  “I’m good,” said Travis, standing and stretching as he did. “I’m going to head out back and call to check in on Sunny.”

  Poppy perked. “Oh, is that your someone special?”

  Travis met Brett’s gaze and then smiled politely at Poppy. “In a manner of speaking. I’ll be back in a bit. I’m getting kind of tired. Not sure how much longer I’m going to make it tonight, ladies.”

  Dana laughed. “We understand, and thanks for your help today. But you should know that you’re kind of the baby of the bunch, somehow managing to beat out the upcoming birthday girl as far as being the youngest here.”

  Travis kept a tight smile pressed to his face as he headed out back.

  Brett continued to stare at Poppy. That was right. Her birthday was tomorrow. “I know you probably already have plans for the special day, but do you think we could maybe spend some time together on your birthday?”

  “From the way she’s staring at you, I’m guessing you’re going to be spending every day together,” said Dana, making a gagging motion with her finger before winking.

  Brett liked her. She was loud and somewhat obnoxious, but it was easy to see she was fiercely protective of both Poppy and Marcy. Plus, from what he’d been able to get from the woman, she had a rather low opinion of Poppy’s ex.

  His leg spasmed and he grimaced, lifting it and changing the order in which he’d crossed his ankles.

  Jeffrey noticed the act. “Your knee acting up again?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Poppy sat up some. “Your knee? What’s wrong with it?”

  “I’m old,” said Brett with a wink, only partially kidding. At forty-two, he certainly had put some miles on his body.

  Jeffrey answered for him. “He hurt it while serving. IED went off and he ended up with shrapnel in it. Spent a few weeks in the hospital over in Germany. Then had a lot of physical therapy after that. Acts up on him every now and again. He refuses to go see someone about it. Thinks all doctors are quacks.”

  “I don’t go see anyone because it’s fine,” said Brett sternly.

  Poppy gasped. “You were hurt while you were away?”

  Brett patted her hand. “It was nothing.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it was nothing,” she said with a huff.

  “Don’t let him fool you, Poppy,” said Jeffrey. “It was serious. Almost took him out of commission for good if you catch my drift. He came out the other side and was able to keep doing what he loved, but eventually it led to him retiring and moving over to the private sector.”

  Brett grunted in Jeffrey’s direction, wishing the man would shut up.

  Jeffrey merely grinned and
then waved in a dainty manner, making it clear he was totally screwing with Brett.

  Brett flipped him off.

  Dana laughed.

  Poppy’s worry pushed off her and slammed into Brett as if the feelings were his own. It took a moment to work through the rush of emotions that had basically just smacked him in the face. It was something a mated pair could do—or so he’d been told—feel each other’s emotions.

  Apparently, he and Poppy had somehow managed to reach that level of unspoken communication even with having put so much distance and time between them. That meant something big. He gulped as he realized just what that was.

  Somehow, long ago, he must have actually started the claiming process on her. He’d thought he’d run out of the hotel room before it had started. Evidently, he’d been wrong. Some portion, even if small, of a connected thread had been weaved between them, and had been there all these years.

  It explained his inability to stay away from her. And it explained the pull he felt to her twins. If he’d claimed her even slightly back then, when she’d gotten pregnant with the twins, that claim would have been in place, marking them his to some extent.

  He was about to tell Jeffrey he needed a moment alone with him, to tell him what he’d just realized, when Poppy put her hand on his thigh.

  He tensed, worried because his body instantly responded to her touch. He just hoped she didn’t notice his jeans were getting tighter in the groin region at a rapid rate.

  Mercifully, she glanced in Marcy’s direction. “When you were unloading the herbs, spices, and oils, did you notice a canister of cayenne salve in it all? I’m sure I mixed some before I left California. I tried to stock up on anything we might find useful after days on the road and unloading boxes.”

  Marcy beamed. “I did. You have several tins. I can grab one. Need anything else?”

  “Yucca root,” she said.

  Brett looked desperately at Jeffrey to help stop the madness. He didn’t want to spread anything anywhere. He was fine with taking an aspirin and calling it a win. “I’m fine, really. I don’t need any cayenne anything or you-ca-whatever-you-said.”