by Deanna Chase
“Sure. Fairies fluttering around the vineyard at night would’ve been very cool. Especially on New Year’s Eve,” Hanna reassured her. “But penis candles? Maybe they’re more appropriate for Times Square.”
“Or a strip club ceremony,” Shannon teased. “Why are you trying to pawn them off on me?”
A bubble of laughter escaped Hope’s lips as she nodded and then collapsed into a fit of giggles.
Miranda’s body shook with laughter as she listened to the women talk about wedding plans and who was trying for babies and who wasn’t. It was all very domestic, and while she enjoyed the time spent with them, she wondered if she really fit in with them. She’d never had a strong desire to have children. And the one man she’d wanted to spend the rest of her life with had never mentioned the word marriage. Not even when they were together in college. After watching his father work his way through four wives, it wasn’t an institution he craved being a part of. Miranda could hardly blame him. So, she was single and likely to remain that way, which suited her fine. Mostly. Or it had until Gideon walked back into her life.
“Earth to Miranda!” Shannon called, waving a hand in front of her face. “You still with us, girl?”
Miranda blinked. “Huh?”
They all laughed.
“Are you dreaming about a certain Hollywood producer, or were you fantasizing about penis candles?”
“Neither,” Miranda admitted.
Shannon raised one eyebrow in challenge.
Miranda laughed. “Okay, I definitely wasn’t thinking about penis candles.”
“So you were daydreaming about Mr. Charming,” Hanna teased.
Miranda took another sip of her margarita. “I was thinking about him but not like that. I actually was just contemplating how you’re all so domesticated now. Everyone’s married or getting married and talking about starting families.”
“Brian and I haven’t talked about making babies,” Shannon insisted.
“No, you just practice a lot,” Hope said, chuckling into her glass.
“Don’t we all?” Shannon grabbed a reindeer cookie off a tray and bit its head off.
“That’s the truth.” Hanna shrugged one of her shoulders. “I’d like to have kids someday, but I’m in no hurry. Abby, Noel, Yvette, and Faith are the four who have babies on the brain. Yvette and Jacob have been trying, but so far, no luck. I think they’re exploring the idea of adopting a sibling for Skye.”
“I’m not in a hurry either. I have a teenager to raise,” Hope said, referring to her half-brother who’d come to live with her earlier that year after being kicked out of his father’s house and living on the streets for a short time. “And Chad and I just found each other again. Now isn’t the time. But also, if we do decide on kids, I’m thinking about fostering and adoption as well.”
Everyone turned quiet as they let Hope’s words sink in. She’d spent most of her youth in foster care. It wasn’t a surprise she’d feel strongly about building her family that way.
Hanna reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. “Levi’s a great kid. You’re doing a wonderful job.”
Hope chuckled. “Levi is a great kid. But I can’t take too much credit. He’s just easygoing. And after everything he’s been through, if anyone deserves to act out, it’s him.”
Miranda doubted Levi would give her problems. He was a tender soul, a spirit witch. They felt emotions deep in their bones, and there was no doubt he knew just how much Hope loved him. He was accepted, completely and fully, for the first time in his life by both Hope and Chad. It was the kind of love that healed a person.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about there, Hope,” Shannon said. “But I might. Try managing your superstar teenage brother. Hollywood is hell on keeping egos in check.” She winked, but there seemed to be genuine concern beneath her light teasing.
There were nods of agreement.
“We just need to keep him in Keating Hollow as much as possible,” Hope said. “And not because he’s dating my brother.”
More chuckles.
“This town just isn’t super impressed with celebrity,” Shannon mused. “I do think it keeps him grounded.”
The women continued to discuss their lives and loved ones and eventually moved back to wedding planning and taking bets on when the next Townsend baby was going to arrive. By the time the evening was over, Miranda still didn’t have any answers to the questions she’d asked herself, but she knew deep in her soul that the women in that room were women she related to, and for the first time in her life, she felt connected to a place not only because of the beauty it possessed but also because of the people who’d embraced and accepted her for who she was.
Emotion swept through her and, not for the first time that day, she blinked back tears, only this time they were tears of happiness.
Miranda stood and raised her glass. “To friends, family, and penis candles!”
The other women followed her lead, and laughing, they repeated, “To friends, family, and penis candles!”
The next week was incredible. There was positive news from Cameron. The meeting he’d set up had gone well, and he told Miranda they should be seeing some sort of deal within days. Miranda was pleased but kept her expectations in check. She knew Hollywood was flakier than one of Julia Child’s croissants. Besides, with the script problems for Witching for You, the bloom was off the rose when it came to selling television and movie rights as far as she was concerned. In other words, she’d get excited when the contract was in her hot little hands and not a minute before.
She’d spent the week mostly working with Gideon on the Christmas ball. They’d decided to decorate the venue with rich red and gold and plenty of twinkle lights. Items were starting to be collected from the various town businesses for a silent auction, and Miranda was having a great time enlisting people to help enchant the venue. Some of the enchantments were perpetual snowfall that disappeared when it hit the ground, dancing snowmen, and animated ice sculptures.
But her absolute favorite feature was the customized gifts. Guests were to fill out a short questionnaire when they sat at their table for dinner, and a gift matching their personal taste would appear out of nowhere. It had been no small feat to pull it off, and she’d needed the help of an entire coven to put it together. The coven was actually based in Denver. Their leader, Bellini Bakarta, was a fellow novelist and an old friend of hers from years ago. Because Miranda had been Bellini’s mentor once and her help had led directly getting her start in publishing, Bellini had been eager to help.
Now there were stacks of enchanted gift boxes that had been sent from Denver and stored in the barn on the Pelshes’ property, each spelled to conjure up unique gifts that were bound to dazzle the attendees of the ball. Miranda and the other committee members decided to hold the ball at the winery since they’d recently built a reception hall just for weddings and other special events.
It was Saturday morning, and Miranda and Gideon were at the art market soliciting donations for the silent auction. Most of the artists were extremely generous, and Miranda had already secured forever-burning candles; handmade lotions that tanned, toned, and restored aging skin; and some witch-themed silver jewelry.
“There you are,” Gideon said, falling in step beside her and wrapping his hand around hers. “We just scored an incredible piece of glass art that reads and reflects individual auras and a painting that echoes the scenery and weather of whatever location the owner wishes.”
“Anywhere?” Miranda asked, smiling up at him. “That seems like a tall order.”
He chuckled. “Okay, maybe not anywhere, but it will produce most scenery types. Desert, ocean, mountains, etc. You get the idea.”
“Sounds great.” She held up her bag. “I did pretty well over in the craft tent, too.”
Miranda couldn’t believe how effortlessly she and Gideon had come together again. After her curse had been obliterated and he’d recovered from his allergic reaction, they’d
been inseparable. He’d even checked out of the inn and was staying at her cottage until… Well, she had no idea when he was leaving. He’d told her sometime in January when they’d talked about it last, but that had been before they’d dropped all their barriers and stopped fighting their connection.
“Check this out,” Gideon said, tugging her over to another art glass booth. The artist had everything from platters and bowls to ornaments and suncatchers on display. “Look at this.” He pointed to one of the suncatchers. “Stand in front of it and tell me what you see in the sunlight reflecting off the crystals.”
Miranda smirked, expecting to see some sort of summer day scene or Christmas morning or just about anything that was designed to put a smile on someone’s face. Instead, she saw herself and Gideon, their fingers linked as they sat in wooden Adirondack chairs overlooking the Keating Hollow valley. Only they weren’t in their thirties. They were old, in their twilight years, both of them proud of their wrinkles and the proof of their long-lived life together.
Tears filled her eyes and emotion clogged her throat. Her free hand came up to cover her mouth as she sucked in a surprised breath.
“It’s hard to see, isn’t it?” a woman asked.
Miranda glanced over her shoulder at a slight woman in a long pencil skirt, form-fitting sweater, and a soft scarf around her neck to stave off the cold. Her short shag-style haircut was perfect for her oval face. Miranda didn’t understand the question. The vision she saw in the rays of light couldn’t have been clearer. “What’s hard to see?”
“The thing that you want most in this life.” The artist patted Miranda’s arm. “It’s not always that way, but when you’re at a crossroads, sometimes the confirmation doesn’t hold up to the goals we’ve been working so hard to achieve.”
Miranda just stared at her, not quite sure what to make of her words. Was Miranda at a crossroads? She glanced at Gideon. If he decided to leave to go back to Hollywood, she definitely would be. But her vision was of her and Gideon together, in Keating Hollow, having lived a full life together. Did that mean she should follow him? Or that she should hold out for the life that she wanted?
The answer was obvious. She should follow him. And why wouldn’t she? Her job meant she could work anywhere. Not to mention that if she continued collaborating with Cameron Copeland, it would be easier for them to connect if she was in Los Angeles.
“Hey, Miranda,” Gideon said, his deep voice soothing her nerves. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She slipped her arm around his waist and snuggled in close. “I’m perfect, actually.”
The artist beamed at them. “Lovely.”
“Your work is gorgeous,” Gideon said. “Do you sell it in any galleries?”
The artist’s face lit up with excitement. “You know, before today I didn’t. But the lovely owner of the Enchanted K Gallery came by and wants to put some in her store. We agreed to consignment, which isn’t usually preferable, but she’s local, so it’s easy enough to keep an eye on things.”
“You met Ashe?” Gideon asked, surprising Miranda. When had he met the gallery owner? And since when did that gallery start stocking anything other than the top 100 artists from Niche magazine?
“Yes. Just today actually. Sweet girl. We clicked right away.” The artist wiped her hand on her skirt and then held it out to Gideon. “I’m Cleo.”
“Gideon,” he said, shaking her hand. “And this is Miranda.”
Cleo turned to Miranda and flushed bright pink as she said, “I know who you are. Miranda Moon, right? Witching for You is my favorite book of all time. I just can’t wait for the movie to come out. The ending… guh. I can’t wait for my heart to be shattered and then put back together again.”
Miranda forced a smile. She couldn’t, even if she wanted to, explain that the movie would be different. She wasn’t allowed to divulge details. So she thanked the woman, wished her luck on her art sales, and tugged Gideon away from her booth.
“Are you all right?” Gideon asked her.
She blew out a breath. “Yeah. That was… intense.”
He let out a low chuckle. “Yes, it was.”
Glancing up at him, she melted when she noticed he was staring down at her with a tender expression. “Did your vision line up with your life goals?”
He slowly shook his head. “Yours?”
“Nope. But I can’t say I was disappointed.”
“Me neither,” he said and pulled her in closer. After pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he added, “Ready to go home? I was thinking a cup of cider by the fire might be nice right about now.”
“Take out?” she asked.
“Burgers or pizza?”
She laughed. “Lasagna. I need to carb load before tonight’s activities.”
He laughed and then his eyes flashed with pure desire as his gaze scanned her body. It wasn’t hard to catch her drift. They’d already planned to stay in since snow was predicted later that night. He pulled out his phone and placed the order with Woodlines. Then without another word, they held onto each other, quickly making their way to Gideon’s SUV.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The scene outside of Miranda’s cabin the next morning looked like something that belonged on a greeting card. There was a fresh blanket of snow and a quiet peacefulness that Gideon felt all the way down to his bones. He stood at the back french doors watching as a magnificent buck stood off near one of the trees.
“He’s glorious, isn’t he?” Miranda said, handing him a mug of coffee.
Gideon draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her against his half-naked body. Miranda kept the cabin warm enough that he was dressed only in sweatpants and a pair of socks. “Does he visit you often?”
“Only on significant days.” Her fingers grazed his shoulder blade as she caressed his bare skin.
He eyed her and raised an eyebrow. “Really? Is he your spirit protector?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I noticed it a couple of months ago. Something profound or significant always happens when he comes to visit. His presence is a sign that change is coming, I think, because the events aren’t always ones that I’m particularly thrilled about. Though sometimes they are. The last time I saw him was the day you showed up in town.”
“I hope that was a good thing,” he said with a laugh.
She pressed herself against him, kissed his jawline, and then murmured, “It took me a bit to decide, but I think I’ve landed on yes, it was a good thing.”
“You think?” His hands circled on her waist, and the next thing he knew, he had her pressed up against the wall with her legs wrapped around him while he kissed her senseless. He was about to take her back to bed when his phone started buzzing with incoming texts from across the room where he’d left it on the counter.
“Ignore it,” he said, kissing her neck and running one hand up her side.
“Okay,” she breathed, letting her head rest against the wall as he tasted her lips once more.
The buzzing continued, and then the phone started to play the theme song from Dexter.
“Dark,” Miranda said.
Gideon groaned and lowered her back down to the ground. “I have to get that.”
“Leading a double life? Do you have a bad guy to take out?” She narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips. “You haven’t turned into a vigilante serial killer yourself, have you?”
He laughed. “No. Sorry to disappoint. The ringtone is just assigned to a guy who gathers information for us so that we know what we’re getting into when we start a new project.”
Miranda frowned. “You mean a private investigator? You do that thorough a check on everyone?”
“Sometimes,” he said with a shrug as he reached for the phone. “There’s a lot of money at stake. No studio wants to eat millions of production dollars and then find out their star went on a racist rant… or worse.”
“Fair enough.” Miranda tugged on the sweater that she’d left on the couch
and headed into her kitchen.
“Baker,” Gideon said. “What do you have for me?”
“You’re not going to like this,” the investigator said.
Gideon had never had any illusions that he would. “I’m prepared for that. Lay it on me. What did you find out?”
“It’s better if we don’t do this over the phone. How soon can you get here?” Baker’s tone was grave and carried none of the good-natured levity it usually had.
“You mean to Los Angeles?” Gideon asked, his shoulders tensing at the thought of leaving Miranda.
“Yes, unless you want me pay to fly me up there. But I’m guessing once you hear what I have to say, you’re going to want to be here anyway.”
Gideon’s stomach started to ache with unease. “It’s that sensitive?”
“Yes.” Baker didn’t need to spell out what he was implying. Whatever he’d found, it was sensitive enough he wasn’t willing to share the details over an unsecured line. Sometimes the man crossed the line into pure paranoia, but he had good reason. More than once his phone had been bugged, and information he’d tracked down was leaked, causing major upheaval for a few stars. Information that was private and had no business being splashed into the public eye.
If Baker had learned something about his father that was unsavory, he was trying to protect Gideon from the news leaking. It was one of the reasons Gideon trusted him. “All right,” Gideon relented. “I’ll be on the next flight. I’ll text you and let you know when to expect me.”
“You know where to find me,” Baker said and then ended the call.
“You’re leaving to go back to Hollywood?” Miranda asked sharply. “What about the Christmas ball? You’re supposed to be my date.”
The warm, pliable woman who’d been in his arms only moments before had turned into a woman ready to hand him his ass. Her feistiness made him smile.
“Do not look at me like that, Gideon Alexander. This is not funny,” she fumed. “I just got used to having you around, and I was supposed to get at least a few more weeks with you. This… leaving before Christmas thing is completely unacceptable. I can’t believe—”