by Robyn Neeley
“I don’t think God holds a grudge for traffic violations. Plus, it could be another ‘Abby.’ We don’t really know.”
Abby’s sheepish expression said otherwise.
“Or do we?” Emma raised an eyebrow. “Did you try to cast the spell on yourself?”
Abby shook her head then nodded.
“When?” Emma had left early last night to see if Jason was home, but halfway to her cottage, she’d gotten cold feet and crashed at her mother’s. “After I left?”
“Yep, I couldn’t resist. I mean, everyone was gone, and I was all alone with the stupid spoon. It was just begging me to stir it.”
“And?”
She sighed. “I got a B. A freakin’ B.”
“Wow.” Emma let out a slow breath but then waved her hand. “Well, that B could stand for anyone. Brad, Brian, Brick . . . Barry.”
Abby let out a shriek. “Stop right there. My soul mate is not named Barry.”
“Fine. Not Barry, but it doesn’t mean Brandon’s the one.”
“Emma, it’s like Jason all over again when I could only cast a J.” She buried her head in her hands. “What did I ever do to get a jerk as a soul mate?”
Emma put her arm around her cousin, giving a supportive squeeze. “Well, think of it this way: If Caitlin’s interested in Brandon, he’s got to be great in bed.”
Abby jabbed Emma’s ribs. “Thanks for the visual.” She smiled and nodded. “Looks like you have a visitor.” She stood. “Hi, handsome.”
“Hey, Abby.” Jason approached. “Hear you and my best friend might be hanging out soon.”
“Doubt it.” She wiggled her nose. “See you at the bakery, Emma.” Not waiting for a reply, she walked away.
Emma watched her cousin. Interesting. Abby would never get to the bakery on time because that was the wrong direction. Guess her cousin did like Brandon’s form after all. “Hey, Abby, the Sugar Spoon is that way,” she called out and pointed in the right direction.
Abby threw her hands in the air all flustered. “I knew that.” She huffed away, now toward the Sugar Spoon.
“Did I miss something?” Jason asked Emma.
“Just giving her a hard time. I’m sure Brandon’s shared the news with you.”
“Yep. I heard that last night was a shock to all parties involved.” He pointed to the bench. “Is this seat taken?”
Emma shrugged off the undeniable quiver traveling through her body.
He sat down, keeping a healthy distance between them. “It’s good to see you.” He pointed to the plastic cup in her hand. “See you have your coffee.”
She hoisted it up. “Breakfast of champions.” They sat for a few seconds in awkward silence. Emma didn’t have a clue what to say to him, although it wasn’t because there weren’t a hundred questions swirling about in her head. Why did you walk out that night at the Sugar Spoon? Have you missed me as much as I’ve missed you? Who is Emily? Emma didn’t know which answer to the last question would be worse to hear: Emily was a woman from his past or someone he hadn’t even met yet.
She settled for an easier question. “When did you get back?”
“Late last night.” He smiled, bringing out the dimples. God, she’d missed those sexy indents.
“Did you have a nice flight?”
“Yes, a little turbulent. You know me with heights.” He rested his arm along the bench. “Emma, I want to tell you about Emily.”
She looked down at her hands. So he did know the Emily in question. Was she ready to hear this? “Okay,” she said, trying not to sound apprehensive. “I’m listening.”
“She was my fiancée.”
“Oh.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Was?”
“She died. Three years ago last April. She was gunned down by a really terrible man seeking revenge after she testified in his son’s criminal case.”
Emma’s hand flew to her heart. “Oh my God, Jason, I’m so sorry.”
He looked straight ahead. Emma watched his face transform to anger.
“It was the worst thing I’ve ever been through. Son of a bitch. I would have given anything to have been the one sitting in the driver’s seat and taken that bullet. My head, not hers.”
Emma reached for his hand, wanting to comfort him. Her words were trapped in her throat. She held on, and they sat in silence.
What an idiot she’d been. While she had stewed all week, licking her wounds, Jason was reeling in unimaginable grief exacerbated by what he saw in the batter.
He finally broke the silence. “Emma, I should have told you everything that night you cast the spell. It’s just I didn’t know how and then—”
“Emily spoke,” she whispered.
“Did that really happen?” His blue eyes seemed to be searching hers for confirmation. Was it hope he was clinging to?
Emma nodded. “I’ve never communed with the dead. It was definitely a first for me.”
“I went to her grave.” He let go of her hand. “That’s why I went back to Miami. I hadn’t been back to see her since we buried her. I’d never said good-bye.”
“That must have been hard,” Emma replied. Her soft words tried to offer her sincere condolences and support. She was starting to see just how broken Jason was.
“It was,” he agreed and hung his head. “I should have done it years ago.”
Emma’s heart hurt for him. It was obvious he’d carried around this guilt and pain all these years. She wanted to help, but how? “Do you want to come with me to the bakery? Maybe have some breakfast?” she asked. “We could talk. I’d love to hear more about Emily.”
He glanced down at his watch. “I’d love to, but I’m on deadline. Can we maybe grab dinner tonight?”
“I’d like that.” She squeezed his hand. “A lot.”
He squeezed back and then let go. “We need to make plans for the Final Fling.”
She laughed at his reference to the event. “I’d forgotten about that.” Tomorrow night’s event at the fairgrounds was an annual tradition.
All the couples were invited. Actually, most of the town would be there. It was always a blast with good food, music, and dancing all night. The charity that benefited from the auction would give a short update on what they’d done with the money raised. It was also the unofficial end to summer.
Jason stood and said good-bye. Emma let out a slow breath and watched him exit the park. His body hunched over and his stride less than confident. It tore her apart to see him in so much pain. What a tragic and senseless loss he’d experienced. From what she just witnessed, he was still going through it.
She sipped her coffee, trying to process all she’d learned. One thing was for sure. Jason’s deceased fiancée had found a way to come back to him through Emma’s spell. Would he be able to let Emily go?
17
“Emma, you have to do something,” Abby begged from her stool. “Please! I have to know that it was a horrible mistake.”
“Abby, I can’t make the batter spell out another name. You know that as well as anyone.”
“Can’t we just try? Just one last time.”
“Why don’t you just let it go?” Emma handed Abby a lemon meringue cupcake she’d just finished frosting.
“Let it go! Everyone in this whole damn town is talking about it.” Abby shot up, shoving the cupcake aside. “I’ve got it. Just make up any name with some icing. I’ll take a picture, and we’ll run an advertisement in the Buttermilk Advocate.”
“That doesn’t seem quite ethical.”
“Who cares? We could even blow up posters and hang them around town.” She snapped her fingers. “Now that’s a brilliant idea.”
“And what would these posters say?” Emma asked, completely amused by her cousin’s desperation. There’s no way she’d ever agree to any of these crazy ideas. Besides, only her bachelors got to see the name inside. Plastering posters around town that showed the contents of the mixing bowl wasn’t going to happen.
“They’d say that Brandon is n
ot my soul mate, and we are not going to be together.”
“You got that right!” Caitlin rushed into the bakeshop. Her heels clicked loud and fast all the way up to the counter where she slammed her neon blue clutch down directly in front of Emma. “I want to know what you two witches did last night.”
Emma straightened her apron, glancing over apologetically at the elderly couple who had just gotten up to leave. “Please lower your voice.” She gritted her teeth. “This is a place of business.”
“Your batter is a load of dog crap.” Her gaze dueled with Emma’s. “I want to see it.”
“See what?” Emma stood her ground, not breaking eye contact.
“The batter. I want to see it with my own eyes. Show me.”
Emma reached inside the revolving glass cupcake display on the edge of the counter and plunked down a vanilla bean cupcake. “This is what we did with it. Here, it’s on the house.”
Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “I’m going to ruin you and your little bakery.”
Emma laughed in her face. “Oh, please. Those days of trying to ruin my life are over.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Caitlin replied haughtily.
“Um . . . let me refresh your memory. Does the debate team or cheerleading ring a bell?”
“You just can’t get over that I was more popular than you, and Michael dated me first!”
Emma had heard enough. “You are ridiculous. Please leave.”
“Michael was so right to dump you. Jason will learn soon enough, too.” Caitlin grabbed her clutch and shoved past Abby. Halfway across the bakery, she spun around. “I am not giving Brandon up without a fight, Abby Stevens.”
“Game on,” Emma yelled.
“Emma!” Abby turned around as Caitlin flew out the door. She sat down and began to sulk. “Great. Now I’ve got the wicked witch of Buttermilk Falls after me.”
“Don’t worry.” Emma came around and pulled out an empty stool, taking a seat. “Maybe a house will fall on her or something.”
Abby cracked a devious smile. “It was kind of fun watching her pitch a fit. Maybe Brandon is good in bed.”
“I told you!”
“Enough about Brandon.” Abby swiveled on her stool, facing Emma. “So, what are you going to do about Jason?” She reached for the cupcake she’d previously shoved away.
“I don’t know.” Emma could feel her heart tighten. “He told me about Emily this morning . . .”
“And . . .” Abby licked frosting off her finger. “Is she the ghost of his past or future?”
“Funny you should say ‘ghost.’”
Abby arched an eyebrow. “Come again?”
“It wasn’t what I thought . . . far from it.” Emma filled her cousin in on what Jason had shared earlier. How his fiancée had been murdered three years ago, and how he’d had never visited her grave.
“Wow. So Emily came back through the batter?” Abby asked.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Emma stood. “I’ve never spoken to the dead.”
“How spooky.”
“Yeah, if that’s what happened.” Emma still had her doubts.
“What do you mean?” Abby asked.
“Maybe the spell has the ability to reach into the intended’s heart and pull out the name of his or her soul mate.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how it really works.”
“And let’s not forget, it can be wrong,” Abby interjected, pointing to herself. “Case in point.”
“That’s yet to be confirmed.” Emma headed around the counter. “Who knows? Maybe when I cast the spell, Jason’s heart still belonged to her. Everything between us happened so fast. I mean, one minute he was kissing me outside the bakery . . .”
Abby slammed her hands down. “You had sex in here, didn’t you?”
Emma smiled coyly, and Abby’s eyes widened. “Did you?”
Emma waved off the accusation. “Not important. The point is we had a couple of amazing nights together and this incredible connection, but maybe it was too soon. Maybe his heart wasn’t ready for the batter to show my name.”
“I’ve got an idea.” Abby leaped off the stool and rushed over to the front doors, changing the sign from open to closed. “Let’s cast the spell again.”
Emma blinked. “Why?”
“Why not? What do you have to lose?”
“Hmm . . . I don’t know.” What her cousin suggested was intriguing. Maybe for once Emma had gotten the spell wrong. “Do you really think it will spell my name this time?”
Abby nodded. “Well, you did say he went back to Miami to say good-bye to Emily. Maybe that’s the closure he needed all along so he could finally move on.” She hesitated, “Maybe Emily needed it, too.”
“Maybe.” Emma cocked an eyebrow. “I wonder if our mothers know anything about spirits moving on.”
“Those witches?” Abby smirked. “Of course they do. But they’re not going to share any of it with us. We are doomed to a life of only being able to do one spell and marrying off every bachelor in this godforsaken town.”
Emma grinned. “You’re probably right.” Her smile faded. “I just don’t know where I stand with Jason. You should have seen how sad he was. He’s been carrying around this guilt for so long. I’m not sure his broken heart is capable of mending.”
Abby headed around the corner and grabbed a mixing bowl. “Well, you did say he asked you to dinner tonight.”
“Yeah, but what if it’s just to tell me he’s not ready for us to be together?”
Abby reached for Emma’s hand and pulled her off the stool. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Jason stared at his laptop. The blank Word document hadn’t changed in over an hour. He didn’t have a clue where to begin, let alone how to tell Emma before it went to print.
The original plan had been to expose Emma as a woman who—week after week—duped an entire town into believing she could predict soul mates. He’d tossed that plan out the window long before he saw the batter with his own eyes.
The last month had been a roller coaster of emotions. He thought back to the first time he laid eyes on Emma in this very spot. How she insisted she needed to sit at this table even though there wasn’t a soul in the diner. Now that he knew the reason for her insistence, he adored her even more. Emma Stevens was a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve, a heart full of hope.
He looked out the window and his gaze rested on the Elks Lodge. Another important landmark in the Emma/Jason story. The night she had forked over five thousand dollars to be his summer fling had changed everything. He had stood on that stage, overcome with desire as he watched her outbid Caitlin. That longing had excited and frightened him all at the same time.
And those feelings didn’t go away. He cringed at the memory of their first date in the park. What a disaster. God, he had wanted to show her how he felt when she leaned in to kiss him. He should have.
He laughed. And he couldn’t forget the kissing booth. He could have strangled that firefighter for making out with Emma. His reaction to her kissing Lance even surprised him. He could no longer deny how much he wanted her. When she confronted him at the airport, he knew she felt the same way.
He tore his gaze from the window and straightened. Though he was enjoying these flashbacks, none of them were helping him write the story or figure out how he’d tell Emma.
“Hey, dear. You ready to order?”
Jason looked up to see Betty hovering over him, pad in hand. A big red lipstick-filled smile plastered her face.
“What do you recommend?” Come to think of it, he was kind of hungry.
She laughed. “The Buttermilk Tavern.”
“How about a burger then?” He picked up the menu she’d left for him earlier and studied it. Caitlin had recommended one when he’d first arrived. What was it she said they were famous for? “I’ll take your special one. The one with three letters.”
“One Star Lite BBB burger coming up! You’ll love it,
sugar. It’s very good.”
“What’s in it?”
“Loads of bacon, drizzled with blue cheese, and made with blueberries from Mel’s garden. It’s his Blueberry Bacon Blue Cheese special. It’s kind of a mouthful, so we shortened it to BBB.”
That’s right. He cocked an eyebrow. “Blueberries? As in the fruit?”
“Yep. People drive from all over for Mel’s BBB Burgers.”
For a blueberry burger . . . with bacon and blue cheese. He smiled wryly. “I bet they do. Do you like it?”
Betty scribbled on her notepad. “Never had one,” she declared matter-of-factly.
“Then, how do you know if it’s any good?”
She stopped writing and thought about his question. “You know. Now that you ask? I guess I have faith in the folks in this town who rave about them. Why would they lie? Certainly not to spare Mel’s feelings.”
“Well, I’d love to have one then.”
“You got it!”
He watched Betty head to the kitchen to submit his order for one BBB Burger—a burger apparently the whole town touted whether they’d tried it or not. This town sure has a lot of faith. He laughed.
An idea suddenly hit him. Of course! That was his angle. Why hadn’t he thought of it before?
His fingers flew across the keyboard as he plunged into the story.
Emma blew an exasperated breath straight up, attempting to get her bangs out of her eyes. Her hands were busy pouring ingredients into a bowl—bowl number four to be exact. The three others had been set to the side. Each with the same result.
Minutes after casting the spell, Emma peered into the bowl and then threw her hands up in the air. “I give up.”
Abby leaned in and took a peek. “Well, this one kind of looks like two m’s. Maybe?”
“Nice try.” Emma put down her grandmother’s sugar spoon. “It’s no use. They all say ‘Emily.’” She turned and leaned against the counter. “Jason’s heart still belongs to her.”
Abby came around and grabbed Emma’s hands, clutching them tightly. “Emma, stop being silly. That man’s heart wants you.”
“How can it when he apparently never got it back.”