Hugh stared at her. Was she joking?
Chapter Six
Penelope waited for Hugh to tell the deputy once more that she’d not purposely struck him with her car. That he’d walked out in front of her. As Hugh’s amber gaze slid over her and widened, she gasped. Did the man suddenly think she really had hit him intentionally?
“Hugh walked out in front of her,” said the short man in a sweater vest, holding a jar that had Hugh’s name on it. “She didn’t aim for him or anything. Though let’s be honest, Hugh could stand to be run over.”
“Shut it, Buster,” said Hugh, still watching her as if she were the devil. He certainly didn’t look as if he still wanted to take her to lunch or dinner.
Buster ignored Hugh and offered Penelope a sheepish smile. “I like your sweater.”
“Thank you.” She gnawed at her lip and tugged lightly at her sweater as nerves got the better of her. So far, her last-minute trip to Everlasting was a complete and utter disaster. Her bags were more than likely in another state or country. The GPS had tried to run her off a cliff and into the ocean. And if that wasn’t enough to make the trip anything but enjoyable, a hunk had walked right out in front of her car and was now acting as if it was her fault he didn’t know how to use a crosswalk or look both ways.
“Do they have a version in a sweater vest with a poodle on it?” the man with the jar asked.
She glanced briefly at him, wondering if he was serious. The expression on his face said he was. “Um, I don’t think so.”
“Drats.” He snapped his fingers. “I really like it.”
Deputy March moved closer to her, accusations strewn across his face. He thought she was guilty, and he didn’t bother to hide as much. “I need to see your license.”
This cannot be happening.
With a grunt of frustration, she came to the understanding that this wasn’t a nightmare, she wasn’t dreaming; Everlasting was proving to be the worst possible place she could have picked to relax. “Yes, of course. Anything you need, Deputy. I swear I didn’t aim at him or anything. He just stepped right out in front of me.” She turned to go for the rental car to retrieve her purse.
“Enough, March,” snapped Jolene, peering at the deputy shrewdly. “Stop trying to make the poor girl out to be a member of the Manson family. You’re like a dog with a bone. No offense, Hugh.”
“None taken,” returned Hugh with an indifferent shrug.
“Jolene, let me handle this,” pleaded Deputy March. “Penelope keeps popping up in the wrong place at the wrong time. You have to understand my concern.”
“She’s a sweet girl.” Jolene pointed at the deputy. “And don’t you go claiming otherwise.”
“She’s a Messing,” offered Hugh with a huff. It was clear he had great issues with her last name, though she wasn’t sure why. Her grandfather was incredibly sweet. He was acting like her grandfather was a serial killer. Much the same way Deputy March had behaved when her last name came into play. “Same difference.”
“It’s not, and you well know it.” Jolene limped her way over to Penelope and put her hand on her arm. “I don’t think you tried to kill Hugh, though I wouldn’t have blamed you. The boy often speaks before he thinks, is so alpha it can make your eyes roll, and pretty much thinks he’s God’s gift to women. You know what? You should get in the car and hit him again. Might knock some sense into him.”
“Jolene?” asked Hugh, sounding flabbergasted.
“What?” questioned Jolene, a hand finding her hip. “You’re acting like a fool, Lupine. Boy, I’ve known you since you were in diapers, running around with my nephew and Curt, getting into trouble. Trust me when I say, you need to be hit by a bus to get something through your thick head.”
Hugh ran a hand through his shoulder-length dark brown hair. His dark brown gaze found Penelope and a tic started in his jaw. “She’s a Messing.”
“And you’re a Lupine. So what,” snapped Jolene, glancing around at the crowd that had started to gather.
A man who was just shy of six and a half feet tall stepped out into the street, blowing his nose before sneezing. He wore a pair of dress slacks and a pullover shirt. He looked to be around the age of thirty and while he was muscular, he was also lean. He wore a pair of black framed glasses that added to his appeal. There was a certain nerdy handsomeness to him that anyone looking at him would be able to see. Not to mention, he had a great smile.
“Aunt Jolene, what are you in the middle of now?” asked the man.
“Sigmund, I thought I told you to stay home and rest until your, um, allergies lightened up,” said Jolene, glancing at Deputy March. She fidgeted with the front of her overalls and then positioned herself in a way that put her between the deputy and her nephew. It made Penelope instantly think of an overprotective momma bear looking out for her cub. While Sigmund did seem slightly nerdy (in the cutest way possible), he looked as if he could more than handle himself.
“Sig,” Deputy March said, nodding his head at the man. “Can you please talk some sense into your aunt?”
Sigmund laughed. “I wish. She’s as stubborn as a mule.”
“Am not,” stammered Jolene. She clenched her jaw and helped to prove her nephew’s point.
Deputy March sighed. “This is going to be a long day. I regret that I didn’t call in sick.”
“Hi, Sig,” said Buster. He shook a jar. “We’re almost to a thousand now from Hugh alone. We’ll have that new school built before you know it.”
Sigmund withdrew an inhaler from his front pocket, brought it to his lips, and took two puffs before blowing his nose again. His eyes were glassy, and his nose was red. He looked miserable, yet still kept a smile on his face and somehow managed to be sexy through it all. “Go easy on him, Buster. He’s operating without his training wheels today.”
“I will hurt you,” said Hugh with a snort that said he didn’t mean it.
Sigmund smiled at her. “And who might you be?”
“She tried to kill Hugh,” said Deputy March.
“I did not!” protested Penelope. The urge to run came over her, but she held her ground. She would not let them accuse her of anything else. She was a good person. She didn’t kill people or intentionally run them over.
Sigmund’s gaze found Hugh. “I’m surprised it took a woman this long to try to kill you. Honestly, I’d have figured one would have offed you years ago.”
The lighter tone made Penelope calm slightly. And the longer she knew Hugh, the more she realized Sigmund probably wasn’t kidding. Hugh had a way about him that certainly did wear on one’s nerves, and bring out the urge to wring his neck. She was struggling with the impulse herself.
“You’re a crap best friend,” said Hugh.
“Lucky for you, you have two of us,” reminded Sigmund. “Speaking of which, I’m off to meet Curt for morning coffee. Want to come?”
“He can’t,” said Jolene. “He’s clearing up this mess he made. Tell the nice deputy that Penelope didn’t try to kill you. She’s already suspect number one in the double homicide that happened this morning.” Her eyes darted to her nephew briefly.
Hugh grunted and took a giant step back from Penelope.
Sigmund laughed at Hugh. “You generally save this behavior for Wilber.”
“That is her grandfather,” said Deputy March as if that summed up everything perfectly.
Hugh tossed his hands in the air. “I cannot believe I thought Old Man Wil’s granddaughter was hot. I was going to ask her out on a date. I sure know how to pick ’em. She’s a murderer in a puppy dog sweater. Bet that throws suspicion off her.”
Penelope squared her shoulders, taking extreme offense. “I didn’t kill anyone, and I’ll thank you kindly to check that tone with me. I don’t know what you have against my grandfather, and I really don’t care. Stop acting like what happened here was my fault. If you were crossing at a crosswalk or, I don’t know, looking where you were walking, I wouldn’t have clipped you with my car.” She leveled her gaze on
him. “And for the record, I’d have said no to going on a date with you. I like my men able to look both ways before crossing. How about we try this all over again. Only this time, I’m not going to be inclined to brake. I might just run right over you and back up for good measure.”
Jolene and several other spectators laughed loudly. Sigmund tried to hide his amusement behind taking another puff of his inhaler. Buster held the jar out toward Hugh as if he was expecting something to happen, and Deputy March took a small step back from her.
They’d gathered quite a crowd of tourists. Several snapped photos of it all while others held their phones up, recording the events. She’d be an internet sensation by the end of the day. The girl who couldn’t drive and who murdered people near cliffs for sport.
As she stood there, the subject of so many people’s stares, she began to tear up. She’d only wanted to get away from Craig. Away from the city.
Her gaze moved to Hugh and she saw something flash in his eyes. Was it regret? She wasn’t sure and she didn’t care. He’d thrown her under the bus the moment he’d learned her last name.
Jerk.
Hugh sighed and then swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
Jolene tapped her ear, making a big production out of it all. “Did I hear that right? Did Hugh apologize to someone?”
Buster’s bottom lip poked out as he shook his head no. “Never thought I’d hear the day.”
Sigmund grinned.
Hugh locked gazes with her. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
Penelope pointed at Hugh. “You had better tell Deputy March the truth and this time make sure he believes you.”
Hugh groaned. “Fine. I walked out in front of her. She couldn’t have stopped. It was my fault.”
Deputy March glanced fleetingly at her before heading back to his SUV. He pulled away, never saying a word more on the matter. Somehow, she doubted she’d seen the last of him. She also wondered if something was in Everlasting’s drinking water that produced such good-looking men who had such questionable personalities.
Jolene put her hand out and began to shoo onlookers. “Okay, folks, nothing more to see here. You’ve gotten your bit of excitement for the day. Be on your way.”
Sigmund stayed in place. “Hugh, if you’re going to ask her out, I’d do it fast. If you wait any longer, you’ll do something else stupid and ruin your chances.”
Hugh licked his lower lip. “She’s Wilber’s granddaughter. He’s never going to allow her to be around me. Not with the history our families have together.”
Penelope watched him. “My grandfather doesn’t run my life. And if you’re asking, the answer is still no.”
Hugh’s jaw snapped shut as indignation shone on his attractive face.
Jolene laughed and clapped her hands. “I love it. I don’t think any woman has ever told him no.”
“Really? I pretty much want to chant it,” said Penelope, crossing her arms over her chest. “No. No. No, and no.”
Hugh’s lips twitched. “You’re even more beautiful standing there mad at me, wearing that ridiculous sweater, glaring at me. If I let you hit me again with your car, will you take pity on me and forgive me for letting stupid fall out of my mouth?”
Sigmund shook his head. “You’re hopeless, Hugh.”
Penelope entertained giving in, but having been burned by romance already, she wasn’t ready to hop back into the frying pan. She exhaled and held her hand out to Hugh. “Penelope Messing. Nice to meet you, Hugh.”
He paused before taking her hand. “Are we starting over?”
“We are,” she said.
“This means you’re going to let me take you out to eat?” he asked, sounding hopeful.
She pursed her lips. “I’d more than likely poison you.”
His lips twitched before he gave her a full-on, big white smile. “Guess I’d have it coming. Plus, it would make your grandfather happy. And if I can survive Polly’s cake, I can live through anything. It’s a date then for dinner?”
She even smiled at that. “As much I want to say yes, I can’t.”
Sigmund and Buster snorted.
Hugh’s cheeks reddened. “I’ll write in the sky that you didn’t hit me on purpose and that I’m a jerk. You don’t need to keep trying to prove your point. Message received. Loud and clear.”
“Say yes so we can see him actually write it in the sky,” said Buster before backing up quickly from Hugh’s reach.
Penelope spotted again what was written on the front of the man’s jar and paused. “Why does that have Hugh’s name on it?”
Buster grinned. “Because he bet Curt Warrick that he could make it a month without cursing and every time he messes up, he has to pay a fine. The money goes toward the middle school fund,” said the man with pride. “We’ve made almost a grand off Hugh in only four days.”
Hugh growled, and Penelope found herself stepping in front of Buster in a protective manner. “From what I heard him string together earlier, I’m shocked you’ve not made more.”
“Me too,” said Buster.
Sigmund laughed. “Hugh has the worst mouth. By the way, Hugh, Polly is looking for you.”
Hugh’s face scrunched. “She’s going to try to force me to eat more cranberry cookies, isn’t she?”
Sigmund grinned. “More than likely. You know how she likes to feed you. Plus, she still feels bad after the last incident. The one with the fleas.”
“I hate cranberries,” grumbled Hugh, and then he scratched at his leg. “And her baking terrifies me. I’m itching thinking about it.”
Sigmund displayed a knowing grin. “Yeah, you should invest in a flea collar, just in case.”
The people of Everlasting were odd. Very, very odd.
“Seriously though, I cannot eat anything with cranberries in it,” stressed Hugh to Sigmund. “I really hate them.”
Penelope glanced toward the huge banner strung across the street, announcing the Cranberry Festival. It looked to be a month of activities and eating, all celebrating the cranberry harvest. She snickered. He was in the wrong town if he hated cranberries. “You hate the very thing Everlasting is about to spend a month celebrating?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Why am I not surprised?” she asked. “You seem the type to go against the grain whenever possible.”
Sigmund snorted. “Look at that, she already knows you well.”
Hugh stepped closer to her. “So, about dinner?”
Her hand went to her hip as she stared at him. With the way he’d behaved she wanted to make him work for a date with her, though she still harbored guilt over hitting him with her car. “What about it?”
He cleared his throat, drawing more laughs from his friends. They apparently reveled in seeing him on the spot. She had to admit that she did too. “Um, will you do me the honor of having dinner with me?”
She touched her lower lip, considering his offer. He was everything Jolene had said he was, rough edges and all. But he was certainly sexy. That helped a lot. And she needed to take her mind off Craig. Maybe Hugh was just what she needed.
“Hey, I can also ask around about the bodies. I know everyone in town. Someone might know something.” Hugh offered a sincere look, leading her to believe he wasn’t toying with her. And she could use some help trying to clear her name, since Deputy March seemed to be looking no further than the end of his nose for another suspect.
She wanted to know more as well. After all, it was her backside that was on the line. “Can I come with you? I think I’m suspect number one in Deputy March’s mind. I’d like to find out what happened for no other reason than to keep from spending the rest of my life wearing an orange jumpsuit.”
He flashed another wicked grin. “I bet you’d look stunning in a jumpsuit.”
She stared at him.
He put his hands up and laughed. “Hey, you make fire hydrant leggings look hot. A jumpsuit would be nothing for you to pull off. But seriously, I ca
n take you around, and we can try to find out more about what happened with the bodies. And then we can eat. Sleuthing is bound to take it out of us.”
He was right. They really would work up an appetite if they were hunting for clues on what had happened to the men. “Okay, but I reserve the right to poison you,” she said succinctly.
He flashed a bad-boy smile. “I’d expect nothing less.”
Buster eased closer to him.
Hugh glared at the small man. “You’re not following me around with the damn jar all day.”
Buster held it out. “That will be two dollars.”
Sigmund smiled. “This is going to be an interesting month.”
Chapter Seven
Hugh watched as Penelope drove off in her tiny rental car. Absently, he rubbed his leg, his gaze still locked on her as he stood off to the side of the street. He didn’t want to admit the car had done more damage than he’d let on. It was embarrassing enough that he’d gotten hit by a car—a hybrid one at that. He didn’t need to add insult to injury.
Sigmund remained, as did Buster, though Buster wisely put some space between them. Smart man. Hugh was just about to the breaking point with him. If Buster continued trailing him for the rest of the month, Hugh couldn’t be held responsible for his actions, or for where they’d be dislodging the fine jar from Buster’s body.
He didn’t voice as much, but rather glanced off in the direction Penelope had gone. Only he would manage to walk out in front of someone as smoking hot as her, get hit by her car, and then find out she came from a long line of supernatural hunters. He’d known he should have simply let her be and thanked his lucky stars that she’d only caused him slight injury with the vehicle. Messings were a dangerous lot and weren’t to be taken lightly.
Still, Hugh couldn’t stop thinking about her. From her smell to her royal-blue eyes, everything about her had appealed to him on a base level. He even considered running after her car, just to be around her more.
You’re pathetic.
He groaned at himself for his actions. This wasn’t him. He didn’t chase after women—okay, he had long ago when the neighbor girl moved away, but that didn’t count.
Once Hunted, Twice Shy: A Cozy Paranormal Mystery (The Happily Everlasting Series Book 2) Page 5