He decided to bring her a cookie, too. She looked thinner, probably the result of the way she’d starved herself this week. What a dumb thing to do, when she’d looked so gorgeous the day she’d arrived.
He set the mug of steaming coffee and the napkin with the cookie on it by her right hand. ‘‘On the house, by the way.’’
She glanced up from the screen, and there were smudges of weariness under her blue eyes. ‘‘You don’t have to do that, Jeremy.’’
His heart squeezed at the softness in her expression. She was heading for disaster with this lake monster business, and he had no idea how to stop it. At this point he had no proof of anything.
‘‘I like doing things for you,’’ he said.
Her gaze softened. ‘‘I know. You’re a good guy.’’
‘‘Annie, I—’’
‘‘I wish you’d stop being such a good guy. I wish you’d act like an SOB.’’ She swallowed and looked away. ‘‘And I really need to write this story.’’ She swiped at her eyes and turned back to the screen. ‘‘Thanks for the coffee.’’
‘‘Anytime.’’ He walked away, feeling helpless. There had to be something he could do to protect her from getting hurt. There just had to be.
Chapter 23
The rehearsal wasn’t quite as painful as Annie had been afraid it would be, partly because there were so many people around. All the practice was focused on the processional because Melody couldn’t seem to get the pace right as she walked down the aisle with her mother. They ran through the recessional once, which was the only time Annie had to walk arm in arm with Jeremy.
During those necessary moments of body contact, she’d concentrated on the lake monster and Jeremy’s belief that Dorcas and Ambrose were greedy opportunists. That helped to keep the sizzle factor at bay when she touched him. Other than that, she did her best not to look at him at all. The slightest glance in his direction made her want to jump his bones.
How she could have become obsessed with him in such a short time was beyond her. Even Zach hadn’t affected her that way, and everyone had agreed he was hot. Zach had thought he was, too, which might have been part of the problem. Jeremy didn’t think he was hot, which made him all the sexier.
Wine was served at the Hob Knob during the rehearsal dinner, but Annie didn’t have much. The wine had to be poured into water glasses because the Hob Knob didn’t have any stemware, so consequently nobody could gauge how much wine they’d had and most of the wedding party got very happy except Annie and Jeremy. Annie pretended to sip with each toast, and she smiled until her cheeks hurt.
At last this particular ordeal was over, and she drove her tipsy mother and sister back home. About an hour later, as she crawled into her childhood twin bed in her old room upstairs, she heard a ping against the windowpane. Another ping followed, and another.
She walked over to the window and looked out to find Jeremy standing below, tossing pebbles at her window. The tail of his dress shirt hung out and his hair looked as if he’d been driving around town with all the windows down in his car.
She shouldn’t have been glad to see him, but she was. Her whole body was glad, responding with a flush of pleasure that tingled. Grabbing a terry bathrobe from a hook on the back of her bedroom door, she put it on over her nightgown and hurried downstairs.
By the time she opened the door and stepped bare-foot out on the cool painted surface of the front porch, he was on the steps, and he’d already taken off his glasses, as if he fully intended to kiss her. Her lips warmed at the thought.
‘‘Tell me to go away.’’ His voice sounded rough, almost angry. He crossed the short distance between them and stood inches away from her. ‘‘I have zero control over my need to see you, but you’re probably in better shape. So tell me to leave, and I will.’’
‘‘I don’t want you to go away.’’
With a groan he swept her up in his arms and covered her mouth with his.
He tasted of desperation, and she kissed him back so hard she would probably have bruised lips in the morning. She didn’t care, didn’t let up. Grinding her pelvis against his, she signaled she was ready, so ready.
Before long he’d untied her bathrobe and had both hands up under the hem of her nightgown. She climbed him like a firehouse pole, and he helped by cupping her behind and lifting her up against his erection.
Panting, he drew back from the kiss. ‘‘We can’t do this here.’’
She ignored the fact that they shouldn’t do this at all. Wanting him had eliminated all her good sense. She dragged in a breath. ‘‘There’s a hammock out back.’’
‘‘Someone might hear us.’’
‘‘We’ll be quiet.’’
‘‘We can try.’’ Hoisting her more firmly into his arms, he managed to get down the steps without dropping her.
‘‘I can walk.’’
‘‘No. You’re barefoot.’’ He staggered around the side of the house.
‘‘You’ll throw your back out.’’
‘‘Ask me if I give a damn.’’ He made it over to the large canvas hammock, which hung between two oak trees in a shadowy part of the yard. Somehow he’d managed to avoid the softball net where she’d practiced her pitching every morning.
He paused beside the hammock and struggled for breath.
‘‘You can put me down.’’
‘‘Not yet.’’
‘‘Second thoughts?’’ She thought she might die if he had second thoughts. She wanted him inside her. Five minutes ago wouldn’t have been too soon.
‘‘No.’’ He was still breathing hard. ‘‘Just figuring the logistics. It’s dark back here and I’ve never done it in a hammock.’’
‘‘Dark is good.’’
‘‘I know, but I don’t want us to dump. Not after the tent thing.’’
She cupped his face in both hands and kissed everywhere she could reach. She was dizzy from wanting him. ‘‘Put me on top. I’ll take it from there.’’
‘‘Good plan.’’ He turned his back to the hammock. Still holding her firmly, he sat on the edge of the canvas. The ropes groaned under their weight. ‘‘This is probably a terrible idea, but I’m too far gone to care. Hang on and I’ll get us horizontal.’’
‘‘Just for good measure, say your magic word.’’
‘‘God, why not. Abracadabra.’’ Then he flipped back into the hammock, taking her with him. It swung wildly and the ropes made a whining sound as they sawed back and forth, but Annie and Jeremy stayed in.
Even before the hammock stopped swinging, she’d moved to one side so she could unzip his pants. ‘‘Condom. ’’ She knew he wouldn’t have made the drive without one. Not Jeremy.
‘‘Here.’’ He fumbled in his pocket, pulled one out and ripped open the packet.
By then she’d freed his glorious penis, so she grabbed the condom and rolled it on.
He blew out a breath. ‘‘Sweet Lord, please hurry.’’
‘‘I’m hurrying.’’ Either necessity or magic must have given her dexterity, because she handled the job in record time. Then slowly, so as not to start the hammock swinging again, she eased one leg over him.
‘‘What can I do to help?’’ He sounded as if he might be talking past a clenched jaw.
‘‘Nothing. Just lie there.’’ Rising above him, she untangled her nightgown from around her legs with one hand while bracing her other hand on his shoulder. It was a tricky maneuver, but well worth the effort once she was in a position to slide down over the object of her desire. And slide down she did, with a moan of delight.
He gasped and his muscles clenched. ‘‘I will not come,’’ he muttered. ‘‘I will not come.’’
‘‘Yes, you will.’’ Both hands braced on his shoulders, she eased upward and slid down again.
He groaned and grasped her hips. ‘‘I mean not yet. Hold still.’’
‘‘I can’t.’’ She moved restlessly in his grip, surprised by how strong he was. He held her so that she couldn’
t ride him, but she could rock gently back and forth, which was good, so very good. She moaned as her body tightened deliciously.
His fingers pressed harder. ‘‘Stop.’’ His chest heaved. ‘‘I want this to last more than two minutes.’’
She gazed down at him but couldn’t see his expression in the dim light. With great effort, she held herself rigid. Even then, her blood sang through her veins, urging her to reach for her climax. She’d never felt so sexually hungry in her life.
‘‘You make me crazy,’’ she murmured.
‘‘Good.’’ He moved one hand around until his thumb brushed her clit. ‘‘Let’s see if I can make you even more crazy.’’
She closed her eyes as he began to fondle her. ‘‘You can.’’ She moistened her dry lips. ‘‘I’m no challenge at all.’’
‘‘Oh, you’re a challenge. Just not this kind.’’ He wiggled his thumb faster.
She drew in a breath as her orgasm hovered. ‘‘Are you saying I’m easy?’’
‘‘Easy to love.’’
If she hadn’t been about to come, she might have warned him not to use that word. But she didn’t have the breath to talk right now, and when her orgasm hit, she had to focus on not yelling like a banshee. Ah, that was good. Writhing in his grip, she leaned forward and gulped for air.
He made a sound low in his throat, which she took to mean that he was closer to a climax than he wanted to be. She forced herself to stop moving.
‘‘Thanks,’’ he muttered, his voice like footsteps on gravel.
‘‘I think I should be thanking you.’’ She leaned down a little more so she could touch her lips to his. ‘‘How’re you doing?’’
His breath was warm and sweet against her mouth. ‘‘I’m right on the edge.’’
‘‘You might as well give in.’’ She ran her tongue over his lower lip.
‘‘I wish we were in a bed.’’
‘‘Want to come up to my room?’’
‘‘No.’’ He sucked in air. ‘‘That’s all we’d need, to have your mother catch us together in your bedroom.’’
‘‘How did you know which one was mine, by the way?’’
‘‘Zach told me once. He tried to figure out how to climb up, but there aren’t any trees close enough.’’
‘‘I wouldn’t have let him in.’’
Jeremy ran his hands up her bare back. ‘‘But you’d invite me up?’’
‘‘Uh-huh.’’ She nuzzled his neck under his shirt collar. ‘‘I was a virgin then, but I’m not anymore.’’
‘‘Virgins are highly overrated.’’ He moved his hands under her nightgown so he could cup her breasts.
She sighed as he massaged her breasts. He had such a deft touch. ‘‘Wanna come up and share my twin bed?’’
‘‘Sure, but I’m not going to.’’
‘‘Why not?’’
‘‘Because.’’
‘‘Because why?’’
He drew his hands out from under her nightgown and cupped her face. ‘‘Because I can’t afford to get that close to you.’’ He kissed her gently. ‘‘I’m too close already.’’
She understood. He wasn’t talking about how their bodies were intimately joined right now. He was talking about a deeper connection, one that he was fighting for all he was worth.
‘‘Then let me make you come,’’ she said.
‘‘Yeah.’’ His voice had grown husky again. ‘‘I’d like that.’’
Clutching his shoulders, she rose up so that she had better leverage. ‘‘Don’t yell,’’ she said softly. Then she rode him hard and fast. As she could have predicted, her second orgasm came sailing in when he was obviously on the brink himself. Gulping back her cries once again, she surrendered to the inevitable, knowing he would climax without any more prompting from her.
When he did, he bucked beneath her and tossed his head from side to side, but he muffled his response behind tightly closed lips. He didn’t want to wake the neighborhood, and neither did she. This was their own private moment. No one needed to know about it but the two of them.
Much later, he carried her back to the porch and set her gently on her feet. Then he brushed the hair back from her face. ‘‘I’m glad you didn’t send me away.’’
‘‘So am I. I hated the way we’d left things between us.’’
‘‘Now we can remember this, instead.’’
She knew what he was saying. Tomorrow night the wedding festivities would go on until all hours, and as maid of honor and best man, they were obligated to stay until the bitter end. There would be no time for stolen moments like this. Their affair was officially over.
Sure, he could visit her in Chicago, but why? Even if she eventually decided to remarry, it wouldn’t be to a guy who wanted to stay in Big Knob for the rest of his life. More contact would only make them miserable.
Grief brought a lump to her throat and she couldn’t speak. Giving him a feather-light kiss of good-bye, she hurried inside before she spoiled the tender moment with sobs of regret.
Inside the magic circle drawn around the cauldron bubbling in their basement, Ambrose danced his jerky little cha-cha to Frankie Avalon’s ‘‘Venus.’’ As usual, Sabrina performed her kitty cha-cha right behind him while Dorcas looked on and tried not to laugh at the goofy pair. Ambrose had talked her into a scrying session to invoke the goddess of love and ask for her help in getting Annie and Jeremy together.
The session was definitely needed. Dorcas had taken heart when the steam rising from the cauldron had revealed Annie and Jeremy getting it on in a hammock. But after that they’d parted so sadly that Ambrose had decided to dance his cha-cha some more and stir up another batch of love vibes.
That meant replaying the Frankie Avalon tune, something that Dorcas could do without, but Ambrose believed in the power of Frankie. He was convinced that Frankie’s last name, Avalon, was no coincidence and that he was somehow linked to that magical island of fairies and King Arthur legends. Half the battle was believing in your magical methods, so Dorcas sprinkled her favorite herbs in the cauldron and Ambrose danced to Frankie.
‘‘They’re splitting up,’’ Dorcas said. ‘‘Who are we following?’’
‘‘Jeremy.’’ Ambrose made a rolling motion with his hands as part of his cha-cha. Then he flung his left hand in the air and, after that, his right. ‘‘Let’s see where he goes when he leaves Annie’s house.’’
Dorcas concentrated on the image of Jeremy’s Suzuki driving down dark roads. She knew this route. ‘‘He’s coming here. No, wait, he’s turning down the lake road. Maybe he wants to wallow in memories. Lovesick guys do stuff like that.’’
‘‘Uh-oh.’’ Ambrose stopped dancing so abruptly that Sabrina bumped into him. She meowed in protest and swatted his leg with her paw. ‘‘The cones are still there,’’ Ambrose said.
‘‘He’s getting out and moving them.’’
‘‘This is not good, Dorcas. The spell’s in place.’’
‘‘Can you do something? Unspell those cones?’’
‘‘Not that fast. I’d need my staff, and there’s a special incantation I got out of the Book of Shadows. I’d have to look that up, and . . .’’ He stared at the misty picture. ‘‘This is not good.’’
‘‘Oh, dear.’’ Dorcas put a hand to her mouth. ‘‘Poor Jeremy. His rehearsal dinner just came up.’’
‘‘What a shame. But at least we know the spell works.’’ Ambrose brightened. ‘‘That’s a plus. I really wasn’t sure it would. I did a fine job on that spell, by golly.’’
‘‘While you’re busy patting yourself on the back, maybe you can tell me how you propose to instill a longing for romance in a man who’s whoopsing his cookies?’’
‘‘It does present a problem.’’
‘‘Once he leaves, I insist you go down there and remove the spell. The lake is a romantic rendezvous spot for those two, and they might even find themselves coming back after the wedding tomorrow night to work out a solution. Throwing up
hardly ever furthers the cause of true love.’’
‘‘I suppose not.’’ Ambrose picked one of Sabrina’s hairs off his trousers. ‘‘Uh, maybe you should contact Annie and warn her not to come to the lake tomorrow night, just in case.’’
‘‘Why would I do that?’’ She peered at her husband as a dreadful possibility occurred to her. ‘‘You can remove the spell, can’t you?’’
‘‘I, um, think so.’’
‘‘Ambrose Lowell! You’re never supposed to cast a spell you aren’t certain you can remove. What about when summer comes and everyone drives down to the lake? We’ll have Big Knobians barfing all over the place.’’
‘‘I can remove it. I think.’’
‘‘You’d better hope you can. Which reminds me, you will remember to turn on the exit sign on Highway 64, right? We’ll have out-of-towners galore coming in for the wedding. The belly dancer was a minor glitch, but if it’s off again tomorrow, the wedding could be ruined.’’
‘‘The sign will be on.’’ Ambrose gave her an injured glance. ‘‘And I promise the spell will be removed. I’ll stay up all night if I have to. I was only trying to help.’’
She couldn’t stay mad at him when he gave her that sad puppy-dog look. ‘‘You won’t have to stay up all night. I’ll work with you on it.’’
‘‘Don’t feel obligated.’’
‘‘Oh, but I do.’’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘‘Now, let’s close the circle and get on with the spell. If we’re lucky, we’ll have time for some chair sex before we go to bed.’’
Chapter 24
Early Saturday morning Annie got a call from Gwen. "The white roses are back to normal," she said. "I can’t figure it out. One day they’re X-rated and the next they’re back to G.’’
‘‘Weird. But I guess it’s a good thing.’’ Annie was relieved that at least something was going right. Melody had started her day with the announcement that she hated her wedding dress and couldn’t imagine why everyone had encouraged her to choose an off-the-shoulder style. Both Annie and her mother were ready to let bridezilla get married in shorts and a tank top.
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