by J. M. Adele
“What in the hell are you on about, Dane?”
“You’re a man of few words, I get it. But you’ve got to make them count when it comes to Chelsea.”
“Is that so?”
“She doesn’t trust men. I don’t count because I’m not trying to get into her panties, and I don’t want anything from her other than her fabulous company. But the slime balls that hit on her every night, they reaffirm her ideas about what a man is good for. In her mind, it’s a limited list.”
Grey measured Dane from the corner of his eye while storing away the valuable insight. His hands balled into fists, tightening at the thought of Chelsea getting hit on by a never-ending line of assholes. He didn’t like that. Didn’t like it at all.
“What is it with you two? You looked like you’d seen each other before, on that first night.”
“We met in Alabama.”
“Oh, you’re a hometown boy?”
“No. I was just passin’ through.”
“Must have been some meeting. Did anything happen?”
“None of your goddamn business,” he growled, eyebrows slamming down.
Dane clapped his hands together in front of his mouth, blinking back tears, before throwing his arms around Grey.
He squirmed out of Dane’s embrace. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“You already care about her.” Dane smiled, patting away tears with his ring fingers. “Let her know that she comes first. Build up her trust. Provide her with security and stability. She’s never had that with a man. Ever. If you can do that while setting her panties on fire, then she’s yours. I’m pretty certain that you’ve got that last bit covered already.” Dane’s grin showed off his perfectly bleached teeth.
Grey loosened his fists. “Why are you telling me this? What’s in it for you?”
“Possibly a day at the spa.” Dane shrugged.
Grey’s mouth sank at the corners.
“But I just want to see her happy. For real.”
He turned to face Dane front on, crossing his arms. “What has the fucking spa got to do with me and Chelsea?”
“You know you’re really intimidating? I sense that you’re a teddy bear, deep down. I’d like to speak with the teddy bear.”
“Dane.” Grey gritted his teeth to hold back his temper.
“No teddy bear?”
Grey merely cocked a brow.
“Okay, first, you should know that we made the bet before you arrived.”
What the fuck? Steamy air sucked in Grey’s nostrils so fast he nearly choked.
“Chelsea’s got it in her head that she’d be better off without men in her life, so she’s sworn off dating for a while. I said she wouldn’t last three months and I stand to benefit from a day at the spa if she fails. But, if she keeps her chastity belt firmly locked, then she gets the pair of designer boots she’s been drooling over for months.”
“Are you telling me I’m in competition with footwear?”
“Footwear is not a joking matter, but I digress. The real issue is your ability to redeem the male of the species.”
Grey blinked and looked away. “I’ve been sucked into the twilight zone, haven’t I?”
“Come on, man, keep up. I’m concerned about her. She’s not herself. You need to restore her faith in mankind before she leaves after graduation. We don’t want her to leave, do we, Greyson?”
“She’s fucking leaving?”
“No, Greyson, she’s not leaving because you’re going to entice her to stay. Sweetie, you’ll need to think quicker if you’re going to keep up with Chelsea.”
Matteo’s voice boomed across the kitchen. “Dane, get back to your station, people are leaving. Greyson, we need help on the dessert line.”
“Yes, chef.”
He went to fulfill his uncle’s request. Keeping his head in the game was all he should be worried about, but the space between his ears was crowded with the blonde bombshell in the tight skirt. He’d buy her the fucking shoes himself if he had to, and send Dane to the spa. If he worked his ass off, in a few years, he’d be able to buy her a whole closet of shoes.
He knew he had to figure out a way to balance his desires, because he wasn’t prepared to let either of them go.
_____
“Shit! Sh, sh, shhhhh.”
Chelsea smeared lotion into her freshly showered skin as she darted back to her room to answer the persistent ringing of her phone. The shrill sound cut off a second before she flipped the stupid thing open.
“Damn it!” Her greasy fingers smudged the screen as she punched the call back button.
“Hey, baby girl. How are you?”
“Hi Mama. What’re you doing still up? It must be one in the mornin’.” She wedged the cellphone between her shoulder and her cheek as she wiped her hands dry.
“Oh, I went to bed early, but some hot rod tearing down the street woke me up and my brain started to race. You know how it is. So, how was the restaurant tonight? Did you make some good tips?”
Chelsea heard the clink of porcelain, and pictured her mama having a cup of hot chocolate, sitting at the breakfast bar. Probably in her favorite cup with the chicken dressed in an apron, and a chip missing from the bottom edge. Fat tears sprang from Chelsea’s eyes because she missed that dumb chicken. Too much. Smudging them away, she pulled in a breath and regrouped.
“Yeah, I did okay.”
She thought she sounded convincing, but the pause on the other end said otherwise.
“Honey? Tell me what’s weighin’ on your mind. And don’t tell me nothing because I’m your mama, and I know applesauce when I hear it.”
Her lips tilted up at the corners, rising with the tide of homesickness lodged behind her ribcage. She could do with one of her mama’s hugs, but if she was back home, she wouldn’t be in this mess to start with.
“I miss home. I miss you. But opportunities are opening up for me. I feel like I’m being pulled away from everything I know and love, and that I might rip clear down the middle.”
“Aw, honey. This place will always be here. Your life is just beginning to shine. If things are happening there, then that’s where you need to be for now. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are the Murphys.”
“But we had plans.”
“Yeah, we did. There’s no rush. Maybe God is telling you that you have some lesson to learn before you can move on, or move back.”
Yeah, like stay away from men. Chelsea barked a laugh.
“Oh, oh. There’s more. What’s this really about?” Her mama sipped her drink, the sound, so familiar, traveling down the phone line.
“I didn’t tell you, but before I left ‘Bama this time, I met someone. Nothing happened, Mama. I swear. We just shared a meal at the diner and then he left.” She filled her lungs for the next part “Well, it turns out he’s the new apprentice chef at Abbiocco.”
“Okay?”
Her mama paused, waiting for her to say more, but what the hell could she say?
“Well, what’s he like?”
Tempting as hell. “A little broody, and pushy. Serious. Too gorgeous to be harmless.”
“Is that what has you worried? You think he’s going to hurt you?”
“I think he’s the first man I’ve met who’s capable of getting under my skin.”
“Well, honey …” A deep sigh cut off the sentence.
“Well, what?”
“Dang, it’s hard being so far away. I feel useless. I want to meet him. I can’t give you advice without knowing who we’re dealing with here. You know I’m not the best person to give you advice on men, anyways. I guess, listen to your heart, but let your head have a say too. Sometimes, what we think we want isn’t what we need at all.”
“Yeah. You’re right. I need to keep my head on straight. Thanks, Mama.”
“So, tell me about all these opportunities.”
Lying on her bed, she chatted with her mama about her projects, relishing the connection to home. Each minute wiped a
way the confusion of Alabama versus Boston. Home was her foundation, and where she’d placed her heart. The things she was doing in Boston—they had an end date. She would graduate college. The extension of Abbiocco would be completed within twelve months. Eighteen months, tops. Matteo would have to look for a project manager to see that through. Her dream of opening Books, Nooks, and Nibbles with her mama would always be her long-term plan. And Greyson, he was only a fleeting distraction too. She wasn’t looking for forever. What a total waste of time. No man was built for that. It was simply against the laws of nature. Women were delusional if they believed the fantasy in romance novels. She sighed and tucked herself under the covers, relieved that the ceiling was right where it was supposed to be and not raised to some impossible height.
Placing her cellphone beside the bed, she switched off her lamp, but the phone lit up and dinged with a message.
It’s Grey. Dane gave me your number. How’s the burn?
She sat up, turning the lamp back on with fumbling fingers.
Damn it, Dane.
There was no way she’d be getting any sleep now, not with the amount of adrenaline coursing around her body. He was thinking about her, and that put him front and center in her thoughts again. After several attempts and much abuse of the backspace button, she sent a reply.
The burn is painful. Thnx for asking.
She’d barely hit send when the phone lit up in her hand with his response.
You’re welcome. Goodnight.
Goodnight? That was all he was going to say? Expelling a gust of air in disgust, she mulled over the message.
Slowly, her mouth curved up. He’d been worried about her, going to the trouble of getting her number and sending her a message after he finished work. Not the next morning. No, he couldn’t wait that long.
Falling back against the mattress, she pushed a palm over her mouth to stop herself from grinning like a fool. She shouldn’t have been pleased at all. She thought Alabama had won the fight, but now Greyson Stranger had put Boston back in the game with only a few words.
The tear down her middle ripped a little more.
What the fuck was she going to do?
Witchcraft
Salem was turning it on for All Hallows’ Eve. She’d been here two years ago. Seeing it for the second time was no less exciting. People, transformed into all things gore, ghoul, and magic, clogged the Salem streets. Bodies bumped, and sounds clashed as the underworld rose to the surface for the night.
Hannah, Dakota, and Chelsea, opted to dress as a coven of witches, while Ryan decided to zombie up. Greyson tagged along, wearing his jeans, a long-sleeved Henley under a leather jacket, and a freakin’ cowboy hat. She had to wipe her mouth when he showed up at her place with that thing on. Cowboy hats were rare up here. It made her miss home even more, while making him that much more irresistible. Her resolve was weakening by the second.
How bad could it be to treat Dane to a day at the spa?
Let him have his moment of glory.
Who needs shoes, anyways?
And then Grey would look at her. Not just a glance. Not even an ogle. No. He’d look deep, like he wanted to see under the layers of protection to her vulnerable center. Every time he did that, her heart would start to pound and sweat broke out on her skin. She’d squirm and fidget, detaching her gaze from the pull of his, but almost immediately sliding her eyes back to his because she couldn’t look away for long. Her lips were going to be a mangled mess, unfit for kissing, if she continued chewing on them.
Aaand, now I’m thinking about kissing him. Ugh.
Chelsea tucked her broomstick between her legs, and tugged on the coarse strands of green hair tickling her face. She’d end up ditching the goddamn wig before the end of the night if it kept getting in the way. Adjusting her pointy hat so that it pinned back her bangs, she grabbed her broom again and jogged to catch up with her friends.
Ryan eased his stride to fall back beside her. “Why don’t you just lose the wig?”
“Because my hair is pinned flat to my head underneath, and I refuse to walk around looking like I’ve escaped from the theatre.”
“Everybody here looks like they’ve escaped from the theatre.” Ryan’s nose screwed up as he threw a glance at the back of Greyson’s head. “Almost everyone. Why don’t you take the pins out?”
“Why are you so worried about my hair?”
“I don’t care about your hair. I’m worried that you’re not having fun because of a dumb wig.”
“I’m having fun.” She bared her teeth in a mock smile. “See? Fun.”
“Very convincing.”
“What would you know? You’re undead. You only care about eating flesh and brains.”
“Yours would be particularly juicy, I was hoping you’d flash more of it tonight.” He stuck his tongue out in a lewd gesture, sending her skin crawling.
“There ya go again.”
“You know I’m only joking. I’m not a cannibal.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You weren’t referring to that kind of eating.”
“See, if you’re going to leave yourself open with comments like that, my reply is going to come from the gutter.”
She turned on him, pointing her broom handle. “Or, you could control yourself because you know it makes me uncomfortable.”
“God, you’re so uptight.”
Her body locked in place, refusing to go any further as she zeroed a death stare on her roommate, steam puffing out of her fake nose.
“Okay. Sorry. I take that back.” He reared back.
Chelsea’s mouth pinched and she squeezed her shoulder blades together, surveying the scene around them while she cooled off. Every time she cut him some slack, he went and ruined it with his immature innuendo.
Grey slowed down and waited for her to catch up, his eyes boring holes in Ryan’s head.
“Hey. It’s the Ecto-1.”
The Ghostbusters’ trademark Cadillac Hearse drove past them, lights flashing.
“How do you even know the car’s name?” Dakota scrunched her nose.
“She’s a closet pop fiction geek.” Ryan voiced his revelation, a mocking expression taking over his face.
She held her chin up despite the heat that rose to her cheeks as Grey settled his eyes on hers.
“I loved those movies.” She cleared her throat. “Ya know, I think I remember there’s a Dunkin’ somewhere around here. And maybe a bar.”
Chelsea licked her lips in anticipation of a drink and a treat, to wash down the nasty taste in her mouth. Why did Ryan have to be such a jerk?
Hannah rested an arm behind Chelsea’s neck, and pointed at the crowd gathering in the Salem Common. “Let’s go check out the Witches’ Magic Circle.”
“Can we get a drink first? Like, with alcohol? They have beer near Witch Village. Let’s go there.”
“After.” Hannah turned to the group. “Are you guys game?”
“I’m game.” Ryan tipped his chin in a lead-on gesture.
Chelsea reluctantly followed, knowing what the circle was all about after seeing it two years before.
Witches and warlocks in elaborate robes and pointy hats held court in the center of a large circle of onlookers. They played tambourines and shakers, joined by a couple of guys banging on drums. Smoke rose from a small table where they’d lit some candles beside a plastic skull. Posted around the center space, large speakers on stands added technology to the mix, reminding everyone of the present age. A collection of food trucks and carnival rides provided a colorful and aromatic backdrop to the ceremony, the smell of fried, fast food wafting through the park.
Hannah propped her chin on Chelsea’s shoulder. “The giant jumping castle in the background kinda takes away from it.”
“Yeah, but we can still honor the dead and enjoy some rides afterwards,” Ryan pointed out.
“Boring. Let’s go to the costume parade.” Dee turned away. “Where’s Grey?”
“Don’t know, don’t car
e,” Ryan mumbled under his breath.
Chelsea ignored him, craning her neck to see where Greyson had gone. She spotted him easily with his cowboy hat acting as a beacon. Holding a paper bag, he was headed straight for her.
“I thought you ladies might like something sweet.”
“Ooh, fried dough. Yum.” Hannah shoved one in her mouth immediately.
“Thanks, Greyson.” Dee licked hers before taking a seductive nibble.
Oh, please.
He seemed to enjoy the females fawning over him in thanks, a pleased grin gracing his features.
Not her. She didn’t fawn. She took hers with a polite, “Thank you.”
“Sorry Ryan, I didn’t get any for you.”
“I can pay for my own,” he snapped.
Her head spun on her neck. “Ryan! Jesus. You can have mine.”
Chelsea shoved her treat at his chest, and he fumbled to stop it from ending up in the dirt.
She noted Grey’s hands were empty. “You didn’t get anything for yourself.”
“Nope. I was gonna get a beer.”
“Sounds great. Let’s go. Y’all want to come?”
“I want to watch the witches.” Hannah’s attention was focused on the coven dancing inside the ring of onlookers.
“Okay, then. We’ll just head down Hawthorne and Derby. You can come find us in Witch Village when you’re done.”
“I could go for a beer,” Ryan piped up.
“Me too.” Dee curled a hand around Grey’s elbow, before wiggling her fingers at Hannah. “See you later.”
Chelsea hesitated, a queasy feeling in her gut. She wasn’t going to leave Hannah alone.
“I thought you were game, Ryan?”
The jerk was already leaving.
Dee pulled on Grey’s arm, urging him away. “Grey? Are you coming?”
He ignored her question, standing his ground and staring Hannah down. “Are you goin’ to be okay on your own?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.”
“In a strange place. At night. Surrounded by kooks.” Grey’s expression was as sober as it gets.