Over Hexed

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  ‘‘I’m going to try to trap all of them at once.’’ He had to lean in close to staple the wire into place, close enough that he could feel her heat and hear her breathing. Being this near, within kissing distance, was so excellent that he hated to change positions. He put in twice as many staples as he needed.

  ‘‘How can you get them all in at once?’’ Her warm breath fanned his cheek.

  He closed his eyes and fought the urge to turn his head and plant one on her. Without her glasses she might not even see it coming until it was too late. ‘‘I have some bait that will tranquilize them.’’

  ‘‘But it won’t hurt them, right?’’

  ‘‘Nope. I checked that out.’’ Reluctantly he stood and backed up. ‘‘You can let go. I’ll turn it around and we’ll do the other side.’’

  She moved back a couple of steps.

  He lifted the cage as carefully as he could, but it was awkward. Along with losing his eyesight, he hadn’t been his usual coordinated self all day, either. As he moved the cage, he jabbed her thigh with one corner. ‘‘Oh, God, I’m sorry!’’ Dropping the cage, he reached for her.

  She jumped back. ‘‘It’s fine.’’ But she rubbed the spot even as she said that.

  He felt terrible. ‘‘You could be bleeding.’’

  ‘‘I doubt it.’’

  As far as he knew, he’d never injured a woman, and now he’d probably left a mark on that soft freckled skin. ‘‘I think you need to ice it.’’

  ‘‘Seriously, I’m okay.’’ She stopped rubbing her leg as if to prove it to him.

  He picked up her coat. ‘‘Let’s go inside and make you an ice pack.’’

  ‘‘Sean, that’s ridiculous! I’m not hurt.’’

  ‘‘I think we should see how bad it is.’’ He held out her coat. ‘‘A little ice could keep you from bruising.’’

  ‘‘A bruise isn’t life threatening.’’

  ‘‘No, but I hate to think of your skin turning black and blue.’’

  ‘‘Look, if this is some tactic to get me to take my pants off, it isn’t going to work.’’

  He went very still. He’d been so focused on tending to her injury that he hadn’t thought of what she’d have to do so they could inspect the damage. But he thought about it now. Imagining her taking off her jeans in his kitchen turned his brain to mush.

  Kitchen sex had a lot to recommend it. There were sturdy counters available and various condiments right at hand. One of his girlfriends had demonstrated to him that certain kitchen appliances could double as vibrating sex toys.

  Until Maggie had arrived in town, that kind of adventure had ceased to matter. He’d lost all interest in kitchen sex or hallway sex or even his favorite, shower sex. But here came this freckled redhead, revving up his sex drive.

  Maggie cleared her throat. ‘‘We need to get something straight. What happened this afternoon at the old house was not the beginning of anything.’’

  ‘‘I understand.’’ And he also recognized that she was the one bringing it up now. She was the one who’d figured out that examining her bruise would require taking off her pants. He might be guilty of thinking of having sex with her, but she was equally guilty of thinking about having sex with him.

  ‘‘I only came out here tonight because Madeline asked me to,’’ she continued.

  Calling her a liar wouldn’t help his cause, so he stayed silent.

  ‘‘I also thought it would give me a chance to return your glasses.’’ Her breathing was uneven. ‘‘That’s it. End of story.’’

  His heart hammered as he gazed at her. Her words seemed to leave no room for interpretation, but her body language and the catch in her breathing communicated something else entirely. He wasn’t very good at reading subtle signals. All the signals he’d ever received had been of the sirens-and-flashing-lights variety.

  Did she want him to kiss her, even though she was saying the opposite? He wasn’t absolutely sure. Her color was high and her eyes were bright, and in his experience, that usually meant a woman was worked up about something. With him around, that something usually involved getting naked.

  She groaned. ‘‘Why do you have to look so damned appealing? Why?’’

  Green light. Tossing her coat and his glasses onto his work bench, he closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.

  ‘‘No,’’ she whispered.

  He ignored her.

  Maggie thought about pushing him away . . . For a nanosecond. But then his mouth covered hers, and her brain took a vacation. The rest of her followed right behind, sinking against him with an abandon that should have been embarrassing, but she was too busy snuggling close to be embarrassed.

  Kissing him felt so damn good. Apparently practice made perfect, because this was a guy who could make a fortune in a kissing booth. Or as a gigolo. He knew exactly how to wrap his arms around her to make her feel desired yet cherished at the same time.

  The pressure of his hand at the small of her back was just right. And when he fit his hips against hers, she wanted exactly what he was suggesting with that slight rocking motion.

  She didn’t care if she was another notch on his tool belt. In fact, she’d be delighted to be there, because the way he kissed made it clear that he’d know how to put a smile on her face in no time. She’d already had a taste of his abilities, and now she wanted the entire meal.

  Sliding both hands under his T-shirt, she found more muscle than she would have expected. Oh, God, that mouth of his. He was turning her inside out with a kiss that was so French she wouldn’t be surprised to open her eyes and see the Eiffel Tower.

  But she didn’t open her eyes. She kept them closed and wiggled against him, letting him know that whatever he had in mind was A-OK with her.

  He lifted his mouth a fraction from hers. ‘‘Maggie, I want you.’’

  His low, husky voice sent shivers through her. ‘‘I want you, too,’’ she murmured. ‘‘I shouldn’t, but—’’

  His hold on her loosened. Air moved as he backed away from her, but she kept her eyes closed for a moment longer, in case he planned on coming back.

  When she heard his deep, heartfelt sigh, she opened her eyes and discovered him looking at her, his expression troubled.

  ‘‘What’s . . . what’s wrong?’’

  He massaged the back of his neck and glanced at her. ‘‘I don’t want you to be sorry afterward.’’

  Absorbing that took a moment because she was still vibrating with so much sexual excitement. But as that calmed some, she realized he had every reason to think she would be sorry. She’d just said she shouldn’t want him.

  On top of that, she’d called their afternoon session a mistake. No man would like that, but Sean would hate it more than most. She doubted any woman had told him such a thing before.

  She took a deep breath. ‘‘You’re right. I need to decide what I want and take some responsibility for my actions. I need to get clear about you.’’

  ‘‘You probably still think I’m trying to seduce you so you’ll forget about the property.’’

  ‘‘Are you?’’

  His smile was tinged with sadness. ‘‘I’d be lying if I said that had nothing to do with it, but it’s not the main reason. See, for me, it’s win-win. I want you, and maybe if we have sex, you’ll start seeing things my way. You can’t blame a guy for thinking like that.’’

  ‘‘I guess not.’’

  ‘‘But I don’t want us to have sex and then have you proceed to beat yourself up about it.’’

  He was protecting her from herself. What a concept. ‘‘But you’re the best lover in Big Knob. Why not take the risk that your strategy will work like a charm and I’ll become putty in your hands?’’

  He gazed at her. ‘‘I’m not sure. It’s probably the smart way to go. You wouldn’t have stopped me just then.’’

  Heat surged through her again. ‘‘No.’’ And she might not have the self-discipline to stop him now if he followed up
on that good beginning. In spite of being afraid that he actually would affect her decision about the property, she still wanted him. She was in a dangerous spot.

  ‘‘I guess it’s because I’ve never had sex with a woman who had reservations. If you’re not with me a hundred percent, a hundred and ten percent, then we’re both settling for less. Does that make any sense?’’

  She clenched her hands in front of her to keep from reaching for him. No man had ever cared whether she was with him 110 percent. As a result she’d never been that committed. She wondered what it would feel like to be that into sex with a man. This man. She wondered if she dared find out.

  Chapter 15

  Sean told himself he was a fool not to push her. From the way she’d kissed him, he thought she’d be willing. But he couldn’t do it, not when she might regret it later. Man, this was the most complicated sex had ever been.

  ‘‘Tell you what,’’ he said. ‘‘Let’s bag this subject for the time being.’’

  ‘‘Good idea.’’ Her shoulders relaxed. ‘‘Listen, why don’t I just leave the food with you and head back to town? I’ll grab something at the diner.’’

  Automatically, Sean glanced at his watch to check the time, and only afterward realized he could see the damned thing perfectly. His eyesight was improving again. He didn’t get it.

  ‘‘The diner’s not a good option,’’ he said. ‘‘The kitchen’s about to close.’’

  ‘‘You’re kidding.’’

  ‘‘Most people eat at home in the evening. Joe keeps the kitchen going until six for the few who go out to dinner, but after that, there’s only the Big Knobian, and they don’t serve actual meals.’’ Besides, he didn’t want her to leave. But he decided to use logic instead of admitting to that.

  ‘‘Okay. I’ll pick something up from the deli in the grocery store.’’

  ‘‘That’ll be closed, too. You’d be stuck with pretzels and popcorn at the Big Knobian.’’

  She looked flabbergasted. ‘‘Are you telling me you can’t have dinner out after six at night around here?’’

  ‘‘That’s about the size of it.’’

  ‘‘I’ve never heard of such a thing. Big Knob needs a SaveALot, if for no other reason than the snack bar that’s open twenty-four/seven.’’

  He decided not to mention that people liked the town this way or they wouldn’t have continued to live here. Natural selection had weeded out the ones who wanted that kind of convenience, and sent them off to Indianapolis or Evansville. A few adventurous souls had made it as far as Chicago, and one highflyer lived in New York, where the whole damned town was open twenty-four/seven.

  The way he looked at it, if you kept a store open twenty-four/seven, that meant someone had to work the graveyard shift. That might be worth it for emergency services like police and fire, but for a hot dog? He didn’t think so, and neither did most of the people in Big Knob.

  ‘‘So how does the meat loaf sound to you now?’’ he asked.

  She gazed at him. ‘‘Like my only choice.’’ Then she caught her breath. ‘‘That sounded incredibly rude. I didn’t mean it that way. I just—’’

  ‘‘Don’t trust yourself.’’

  She flushed. ‘‘That’s one way of putting it.’’

  ‘‘Then trust me. Nothing will happen that will make you hate yourself in the morning. I don’t operate that way.’’ He’d never had to, and he wasn’t about to start now, even with his beloved property at stake.

  ‘‘I believe you, and I’d love to stay for dinner.’’ She studied him more closely. ‘‘I wish I could figure out what’s going on with your hair, though.’’

  ‘‘I know, it’s a mess.’’

  ‘‘Sometimes it is. Like this afternoon when you had that accident with Edith, it looked terrible, like you’d washed it with Elmer’s Glue and then hacked at it with a table knife. It was too short in some places and too long in others.’’

  The image made him wince because he figured it was pretty accurate. ‘‘Yeah, I’ve been having some trouble getting it to behave lately.’’ Understatement of the century.

  ‘‘Except now it looks pretty good. It’s all about the right length, and it’s not sticking out in every direction.’’

  He ran his hand through it, and sure enough, it felt normal. He shrugged. ‘‘Who knows what’s going on?’’ But he had an idea. The herbs Dorcas had given him seemed to work differently depending on the time of day. Maybe sunlight had one effect and darkness another. Or mealtimes. What else could it be?

  ‘‘Your hair reminds me of a doll I used to have. You could pull her hair out to make it longer, or you could push a button in her back and the hair would retract inside her head again.’’

  ‘‘I promise you my hair doesn’t retract into my head. That’s something a guy would notice.’’

  She grinned. ‘‘Guess so.’’

  ‘‘Tell you what. Let’s take the food into the kitchen. I’ll show you where everything is and you can start reheating it while I finish the trap and set it up outside. Those skunks will start moving around any minute, and I want to be ready for them.’’

  ‘‘Then get busy on the trap.’’ She seemed more at ease than she had been since she’d arrived. ‘‘I can find my way into the kitchen, and I’ll bet I can even recognize a stove when I see one.’’

  He hesitated a fraction of a second only because he’d never had a woman in his house before, and it felt strange to just send her in there. ‘‘Sure. That’s fine.’’

  She must have caught that slight hesitation, because she immediately started backpedaling. ‘‘On second thought, you’d better show me where everything is. I’m sure you don’t want somebody poking through your cupboards.’’

  ‘‘I don’t mind.’’ The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of her in his house. After all his efforts to keep women out of it, he’d found one he’d love to have hang around.

  ‘‘You’re sure? After all, you kept those skunks so you wouldn’t have to deal with women invading your privacy.’’

  ‘‘Who told you that?’’

  ‘‘Jeremy.’’

  He wondered what else Jeremy had told her. Over dinner he might ask. ‘‘Well, I used to feel that way, but things change.’’

  She pulled her glasses out of the hip pocket of her jeans and put them on. Then she walked over and picked up her coat. ‘‘So I’ll get started.’’ She shook out the coat and started to shove one arm into the sleeve.

  His response was automatic. ‘‘Here, let me help you with—’’

  ‘‘That’s okay.’’ She stepped out of reach. ‘‘I’ve got it. The less touching, the better.’’

  ‘‘All right.’’ He backed off and let her put on her coat and pick up the bag holding their dinner.

  ‘‘I’ll see you soon.’’ She went out the door.

  He sucked in a breath. What had he gotten himself into? Not five minutes ago he’d promised he wouldn’t coax her into doing anything she would regret.

  That might be easier said than done. His kitchen was so tiny that two adults would have a tough time moving around in it without bumping against each other. The next hour could get very interesting.

  ‘‘There goes another chair.’’ Dorcas heard the tell-tale crack right after she and Ambrose had achieved simultaneous orgasms, one of their specialties. How irritating. She would love to slump against her husband and enjoy the glow of predinner sex, but if they didn’t move the operation somewhere else, they could both end up in a heap on the floor.

  ‘‘Don’t worry. I have you.’’ With amazing strength for a man his age, Ambrose cupped her bottom and lifted her at the same time as he rose from the damaged chair. It crashed sideways, one leg destroyed by their antics.

  ‘‘I love you.’’ Dorcas wrapped her arms around his neck and nestled her cheek against his shoulder as he carried her to the bed.

  ‘‘I love you, too.’’

  ‘‘Before I forget, we need to head
for the Whispering Forest after dinner and pay George a visit.’’

  Ambrose deposited her gently on their feather bed and stretched out beside her. ‘‘What are you planning to say?’’

  ‘‘Just that SaveALot is coming, and we’re doing all we can to stop it.’’

  ‘‘So we masquerade as his savior.’’

  ‘‘It’s not a masquerade. We are saving him. Unless he transforms into the True Guardian of Whispering Forest and earns his gold scales, he’ll never be happy.’’ She molded herself against her husband and noted with satisfaction that his penis began to rise again. Ambrose had the sexual reactions of a seventeen-year-old, but then again, he should. She’d been lacing his coffee with yohimbe for years.

  ‘‘And unless he earns his gold scales, we won’t be allowed to leave Big Knob,’’ Ambrose said.

  ‘‘Exactly. But I do appreciate that he’s a little bit bored out there. I ordered him an iPod and it arrived in the mail today. We’ll call it an early Christmas present. He should like that.’’

  ‘‘Are you sure he deserves a present? Last I noticed he was blowing off his forest-patrol chores so he could teach the raccoons to play Texas Hold ’Em with those cards he stole.’’

  Dorcas sighed. ‘‘I know. Filching things from people who wander into Whispering Forest is a bad habit. But he’s done well with that whispering trick to make them believe the place is haunted, and his gun-jamming skills are excellent.’’

  ‘‘He’s whispering to people because he loves scaring the living daylights out of them, and he’s jamming guns because he doesn’t want to get shot. Sorry, I’m not impressed. He’s guarding the forest by accident, not design.’’

  ‘‘I guess.’’ Dorcas snuggled closer. ‘‘I was trying to look on the positive side. Can’t you think of one thing he’s doing right?’’

  ‘‘He makes awesome smoke rings, which is a talent good for . . . let me think . . . absolutely nothing. Face it, Dorcas, he’s a screw-off who isn’t taking the job seriously.’’

  ‘‘You’re right, you’re right. But I’m hoping an actual present will demonstrate that we value him as an individual and he should value himself and the forest more.’’