by Lexi Post
Everyone grew quiet. Did they hear that? She glanced at her mother, who didn’t look shocked. The last thing she needed was for Dame Vandend to repeat what she said. “How would you know what the cause was?”
The old woman smiled gleefully. “It’s the curse.”
The villagers all covered their hearts with their hands, protecting them from what might be uttered next. Kat controlled herself from doing the same. Braeden wouldn’t understand. “What curse?”
“It’s the curse that stopped us from continuing on the same time path with the rest of the world. Only by you having congress with a Newtimer could we stay in Newtime past Sunday’s witching hour.”
Kat felt her whole face heating.
Braeden lowered his head and whispered, “What is congress?”
She closed her eyes for a moment as embarrassment overtook her. Opening her eyes again, she watched his face as she spoke. “It means what we did last night, just before midnight.”
He stood straight again and grinned at the old woman. By the saints, were all men so cocksure? But then Braeden’s grin faded. What was wrong now? Oh wait, but last weekend they had—
Braeden’s deep voice sounded loud as he addressed Dame Vandend. “Then why didn’t the village stay in Newtime last year?”
This time Kat kept her gaze on Braeden, unwilling to see the disapproval, snickers or even jealous looks of her fellow citizens.
Dame Vandend chuckled. “You must find fulfillment together every day to keep the village in Newtime. Otherwise we disappear again.”
Braeden nodded as if it all made sense, but Kat wanted to crawl inside him and not come out. What would her neighbors think now?
“Well then, that’s easy.” Jurgen’s sneer was strictly for Braeden. “All we have to do is get him to leave and we can go back to Oldtime.”
“No!” Kat spun and glared. “We don’t know if that would be worse. Braeden may be the key to lifting the curse. Going back to Oldtime means we are still cursed.”
Ludo stepped forward. “Katrina does have a point. If being in Oldtime is the curse, then Brom—I mean Braeden—could be our redemption. I knew there was something special about him when he got along so well with Daredevil.”
No one had ever been able to ride Daredevil except Brom and Ludo. The crowd was silent for a moment before the usual chattering started. Kat sighed at the sound, never so happy to hear it.
Janna added to the melee. “And my chickens laid two extra eggs today. That is definitely a good sign.”
As others shared positive experiences, Kat dared to glance at Braeden. His stare was only for Jurgen, who returned it with a glare.
“Don’t worry about Jurgen. He’ll do what the village wants.”
Braeden shook his head. “I’m not so sure.”
“I am. He—”
Ludo stepped in front of them and held out his hand. “We need to be in Newtime. I know many who will be happy with this.” He glanced behind them and Kat saw a smiling crowd coming toward them.
Braeden shook Ludo’s hand. “I’m pleased to be able to help.” His grin reminded her of why they were still in Newtime and based on the people gathering around them, it might become an uncomfortable topic of conversation.
She took the opportunity of the Alder sisters greeting Braeden to slip through the growing crowd. She spotted her mother still standing in the same place and reluctantly approached her.
“Katrina.” Her mother took her by the hands. “I’m happy for you.”
She raised her brows. “You are?”
“I am, but he looks so much like Brom. Are you sure he is the one you care about?”
“Yes, Mama. I’m sure.” She smiled and her mother pulled her in for a hug.
“Good. We shall see where this leads.”
Kat nodded and her mama left to join the crowd around Braeden. Her mother’s final words caused a lump to form in her throat. Where could her relationship with Braeden lead? What did the change to Newtime mean? And would she and Braeden only have each other for as long as they were intimate, as Dame Vandend said?
At the thought of the old woman, she studied the crowd and those left milling about the square. The hay bale was empty.
How did Dame Vandend know so much about the curse?
* * * * *
Braeden smiled and shook people’s hands but he noticed Kat slip away. He understood and felt bad he hadn’t fully appreciated her position when the old crone had said the village stayed in Newtime because they had sex. It was hard to take any of it seriously when he firmly believed there was no such thing as Oldtime and Newtime.
He also noticed, while listening to Janna and Ria offer their assistance in keeping the village in Newtime, that Jurgen and his friends had slunk off in different directions. Every bone in his body said they were up to something he wouldn’t like.
People had begun to disperse when the woman he’d met at the church approached him. Nora was her name, though he didn’t remember her last name.
“Thank you for giving us hope.”
He studied her this time, her rose scent reminding him they’d already met. Her hair was brown, as were her eyes, but there was no distinguishing feature. However, all together her face was quite pretty. The few white streaks in her hair and crinkles around her eyes and mouth told him she was older than he’d first thought. “I’m not sure what I’ve done, but if I’ve helped, I’m glad.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “You have helped me. You have given me hope that someday we can rejoin your time.”
He was about to brush away her comment when he noticed tears in her eyes. This was a monumental event for her. He needed to respect that. “I hope that is the case, Ms…”
“Addens. Nora Addens.”
“Now I remember, Ms. Addens.”
She patted his arm as she nodded before turning away and joining two young ladies who had been waiting for her. Her emotional response bothered him. It was too elemental, and there were too many people who believed there were two different timelines. It was something he needed to investigate further.
When no one else approached, he strode toward Kat’s inn. She would be the perfect person to help him uncover what was happening here. As he drew closer, he smelled chocolate cupcakes. It reminded him that she hadn’t had much breakfast. Was she making cupcakes for breakfast? He took a deep breath in. No, that smelled like Kat and her closet. Shaking his head, he opened the main door of the inn. The smell was much stronger inside.
“Ow! By the saints, watch what you’re doing.”
Braeden didn’t like the sound of that. Stepping into the kitchen, he halted. Kat carefully poured what appeared to be steaming liquid into a small bottle. Her concentration was so focused that he didn’t dare move. When she put the hot pot down, he let the door close behind him. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
She started at his voice and stepped back, tripping on the chair leg behind her. As her arms spread to try to catch her balance, he scooped her up.
“Ow!”
“You’re hurt.”
She sucked at her wrist. “Not badly. I just burned myself.”
“Let me see.”
“Let me down.”
He grinned. Holding her in his arms was too pleasant. “Show me your burn first.”
She scowled at him, then moved her arm so he could see. It was already puckering. He kicked out a chair from the table and sat her in it. “Do you have ice?”
“Yes, but that is used for special occasions. Why do you need ice? I need butter. Nora should have some made for the festival.”
“Never mind. Stay here.” He strode outside and grabbed the new bucket next to the water pump. Without hesitation, he filled it and brought it back into the house, bringing in a gust of winter air with him. Moving another chair next to her, he placed the cold water on it. “Put your hand in there.”
“What?” She grasped her hand closer to her chest. “That water has to be frigid.”
He kn
elt and gently took her arm. “Trust me?”
Her gaze showed her uncertainty, but she nodded.
Guiding her arm over the bucket, he quickly immersed her hand and wrist.
“Ow! That hurts too.”
“Wait.”
Her eyes watered and his gut wrenched at her pain. If he wasn’t sure it would soothe and help her heal, he couldn’t do it. He would never hurt her, not even accidently. The realization settled comfortably in his chest.
“I don’t feel the burn anymore.”
Her wonder wrapped itself around him and made him feel like the greatest hero to walk the earth. Unable to resist, he kissed her.
Tentatively, she kissed him as if she knew something had changed for him.
He pulled back and gazed into her eyes. It was said the eyes were the windows to the soul. If that were true, her soul was as beautiful as she. And what did she see in his? He shuttered his gaze and lifted her hand from the bucket. “We need to dry this gently and then you can wrap it if you like.”
She shook her head as she stood. “No. I don’t want anything on it right now.”
In his position on the floor, his head came to her stomach and he had to tamp down the urge to wrap his arms around her waist. She stepped away to dry off her wrist and he rose.
“It was my own fault. I knew better than to try to do the pour over the oven.”
Braeden stayed where he was, not sure how close he wanted to be to her at the moment with unresolved feelings for her running rampant inside him. “What are you making?”
“Purple aster.”
“You’re making a flower that smells like cupcakes?”
“Cupcakes?” She wrinkled her nose as she patted her wrist. “What are cupcakes?”
Braeden’s haze cleared. “You don’t know what a cupcake is?”
She hung the cloth she’d been using and faced him. “I know what a cake is and a cup.” Her face brightened. “Are they cakes baked in cups?”
She wasn’t joking. How could she not know what a cupcake was, especially when what she was making smelled like a chocolate cupcake or brownie? “Do you know what a brownie is?”
“Of course. They are the wee ghosties that haunt Scottish crofts, but what has that to do with purple aster?”
A chill ran up his back at her answer. “Do you know what chocolate is?”
“Now you’re just teasing me, Braeden. Don’t start talking about chocolate unless you have some. It’s far too delicious and too expensive to speak of if you don’t have any.” She continued to clean up her mess after capping the bottle.
He needed to find out when cupcakes and brownies were invented. A doubt had started in the back of his mind and he didn’t like what it could mean. He needed to find a spot with cell service as soon as possible.
Kat finished washing her pot and set it on the counter to dry on a cloth. “I’ll let that cool and put it away later.”
“What is that?” He finally focused on the small ceramic bottle with the stopper.
Kat blushed. “It’s what I use for perfume. It doesn’t cost anything to pick the flowers and usually I don’t burn myself in the process.” She grimaced, obviously embarrassed by her mishap.
Of course, perfume. That was why her armoire had the scent of brownies. Why she smelled good enough to eat. He definitely had to do some internet research. “I need to go into town where there’s a signal for my phone. I have to call my brother and my employer.”
“But you will be back?” She crossed her arms over her stomach, going from the confident Kat to the vulnerable one within seconds.
He stepped close to her and laid his hands on her shoulders. “I will be back before the sun goes down.” He wiggled his brows. “You heard what the old crone said. I have to make you happy in bed if I want to continue to stay here.”
Kat wrapped her arms around his waist. “No. What she said is we need to find fulfillment together. She means we have to, I mean you have to…”
He grinned and cupped her face. “She means I need to be deep inside you when we both come.” Kat’s blush made him chuckle. “I promise. I will be back in time to make love to you. You have the rest of the day to decide where. After all, we have already christened your kitchen table, your bed and your mirror.”
“Oh.” Her suddenly rapid breathing gave him all the promise he needed, but to be sure, he pressed his lips to hers in goodbye. She tasted like coffee and he couldn’t resist coaxing her to open for him. He pushed his tongue inside and savored the sweetness of Kat and the bitterness of the coffee on her tongue. Pressing her against the sink, he devoured her mouth, enjoying her lush curves as they crushed against his body.
She tasted so good he wanted more. He wanted to be inside her and stay there forev— He broke off the kiss at his thought. Kat remained in his arms, her breathing fast, her lips reddened from his onslaught. Gently, he moved away, unhooking her arms from around his waist.
She opened her eyes like one in a daze, but there was no manly pride in it for him. Only the need to get answers so he could be sure to hold on to her. He couldn’t explain his near panic that he might lose her, and he didn’t plan to stay around and analyze it either. Without a word, he strode from the kitchen, grabbed the coat and pushed his arms through the sleeves as he exited the inn.
The cold air had him buttoning up, but it didn’t take away the anxiety he felt. Heading for his car, he noticed a wall of fog not far down the road. He glanced back the way he’d come. It was a clear sunny day. Clicking the car starter, he increased his pace. As he reached for the door handle, a black horse and rider came out of the fog, headed straight for him.
He threw himself over the hood to land on the other side. Quickly, he knelt to look over the car for where the rider went, but all he caught was the horse’s tail as it disappeared into the forest. “Shit.”
Braeden stood and brushed himself off, still watching the forest for any sign the rider might return. After it was clear that would not be the case, he walked back to the driver’s side door and paused. Mud had been scraped along its side. If the rider’s boot hit his door, he could have been trampled under the horse’s hooves. Was someone trying to kill him or would they have swerved at the last minute?
He sat for a moment in the warming car before a glance in the rearview mirror showed the fog creeping over it. Heeding his inner voice, he stepped on the accelerator, turned onto the dirt road and headed into the mist toward what he hoped was civilization and the answers he needed.
Chapter Eleven
Braeden parked his car and jumped out into the darkness. The village of Sleepy Hollow was quiet. No lanterns lit his path, but a bright half moon made it possible to see. He raced down the hard-packed earth that served as the main thoroughfare and opened the door to the Sleepy Hollow Inn.
The sight that greeted him made him smile. Kat, dressed in what she called her shift, had fallen asleep on the settee. Probably waiting for him, scared he wouldn’t return, but he’d make it up to her.
He’d lost track of time in the library while using their computers as his phone charged in a wall nearby. He’d finished with as many questions as answers, but his gut told him that as farfetched as it sounded, there might be some kind of time glitch in Sleepy Hollow. The fact was, cupcakes weren’t in existence until the early 1800s and brownies, the kind he loved to eat, didn’t appear until the late 1800s. But how could Kat not know what those were and yet know about cell phones and eReaders? It was a mystery he planned to solve.
That, and who had tried to run into him with a horse. It still rankled that someone would put a horse in such danger, never mind himself. Still, he would rather deal with that than Kat being hurt. His gut tightened again as he remembered the look on her face when he’d set her hand in the cold water. He really cared for this woman, and the more it appeared she wasn’t crazy, the stronger his feelings grew.
Though he’d rushed from the library when he noticed it was dark outside, he’d been stuck on the highway
due to an accident. Sitting in the traffic jam had made his need to return as strong as his need to find answers earlier in the day. He’d learned so much and now he had to make Kat his again. All he’d thought about while he sat in his vehicle, crawling along a foot every few minutes, was her. Not just her, but her delectable body with her full breasts, muscled legs and rounded hips. He kept seeing her face when she came, and the need to claim her again pushed him to his limits.
He glanced at his watch. 11:10 p.m. He wasn’t taking any chances.
He avoided the creaking floorboards that would give him away. With as light a touch as possible, he pulled the thin material over her head. She murmured in her sleep and her brow drew downward.
Without taking his gaze from her ripe body, he stripped, throwing his clothes on the settee across from her. His hard cock sprang up, anxious to be sheathed inside her lush form. He knelt and nudged one of Kat’s legs to the side. Softly, he spread her folds with his fingers and licked her from pussy opening to the top of her clit.
“Huh?” Her single noise didn’t signal her waking, so he continued.
Her taste made him crave more. Licking again, he stopped at her hardening nub and circled it, then nibbled at it until it turned bright pink.
She moaned and spread her legs wider.
Yes. His cock moved and his balls tightened. He stroked his tongue downward until he pushed it into her pussy and explored. She grasped his hair while her juices flowed over his tongue. It was too much. His need clawed at him, his cock so hard it was painful.
“Kat, wake up.”
She rolled her head back and forth.
Great. Maybe sexing her awake hadn’t been his brightest idea. Carefully, he lifted her off the settee and laid her on the braided rug that covered the parlor floor.
Kneeling between her thighs, he tried one more time. He bent over her left breast and sucked it into his mouth, rolling the nipple with his tongue. Perspiration gathered at the base of his back as he held himself in check, barely.
But Kat pushed her chest harder against his mouth and brought her knees up. “Yes.”