by Kate Angell
But he was gorgeous. That was just fact.
“Anytime you tell me I’m hot, you are up to something.” His voice was deep and smooth, too. Probably very reassuring to those panicked patients who filled his ER.
“You’re paranoid.” She kept her voice flippant and repressed the smile on her lips.
“I’ve known you twenty-nine of your thirty years. Now, spill.”
Sorting through her selective disclosure, she held up her thumb and index finger. “There’s kind of a small, tiny, town-wide Halloween party at the B&B tonight.”
He groaned. “Woman, I’ve been working forty-eight hours straight, I don’t want to go to some crazy party.”
She waved. “Jack, it’s a small town. The average age of bed-and-breakfast guests is probably eighty. How crazy could it be?”
Chapter 2
Jack knew exactly how crazy it could be.
Chloe was involved. Everything was crazy when Chloe was involved.
It was her best and worst trait.
He took his eyes off the road to scrutinize her. She gave him a wide, green-eyed, innocent stare.
Instincts borne from years of friendship kicked in. “What aren’t you telling me?”
She bit her full bottom lip. “Isn’t that enough?”
It was, but he knew her too well. The little vixen was hiding something. Not that she’d tell him until she was good and ready.
He reached over and squeezed her jeans-clad thigh. “Don’t think I’m not on to you.”
She flashed him another dazzling smile, one that displayed those perfect dimples that charmed everyone, him included. “Trust me, this is going to be fun.”
She flipped her long hair and blew him a kiss.
Yep, she was trouble. No question about it.
Five minutes later, following the directions from the electronic-voiced map, turning onto streets actually named Haystack Lane and All Saints Boulevard, he pulled into a long drive. The house was one of the prettiest he’d ever seen, straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting, decorated in whimsical Halloween decorations. Skeletons, witches, and cobwebs with big spiders lined the porch, and mountains of pumpkins lined a cobblestone walkway.
He eyed the big house, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “This doesn’t look so bad.”
“Oh my God,” Chloe said, squirming in her seat. “I love it. This is going to be fantastic.”
He grinned at her. In that moment he decided to get into the spirit of the weekend. How bad could it be? He was with Chloe, who always kept his life interesting.
No matter what trouble she caused.
He shut off the car and they climbed out. Chloe ran ahead of him, her dark honey hair flying behind her as she jogged up the steps. She spun around, her long waves brushing her cheeks, as she beckoned to him with the crook of her finger. “Come on, let’s take a selfie.”
He’d been asked, by practically every man in their small Connecticut town where they grew up, how he could be just friends with Chloe. He got it—she was gorgeous, vivacious, and had a body that would not quit.
The truth was, he didn’t have a good answer for them.
He just was.
Yes, he’d had a few wayward thoughts about her during puberty, but once he’d started having regular sex with girls in the backseat of his Dad’s Buick, he was able to keep her firmly in the friend category.
Chloe was a part of his life. As much family to him as his own, and he couldn’t imagine his world without her.
As far as he was concerned, that was better than sex.
Sex, chemistry, those things faded, but Chloe was forever.
He laughed. “You and your selfies.”
“I promised I’d text our moms when we got here. They’ll love it.”
She positioned them in front of one of the webs so it looked like the big blowup spider was about to crawl on top of their heads. Jack leaned down close to her face, pressing his rough, stubbled cheek against her soft one while she snapped their picture.
Just as Chloe shot off the text, the front door flew open, and Chloe’s aunt Iris flew out. Jack stood aside as the two women hugged and kissed, generally talking over each other in greeting.
He didn’t say a word as Iris talked a mile a minute as she ushered them inside.
The foyer of the house contained a makeshift front desk, adorned with pumpkin garland and what Chloe informed him were called twinkle lights. The house was open with a large piano in the living room and a big common table with large candles running down the center.
It was all quite charming and beautiful. Chloe was going to have a field day in this place. She lived for stuff like this, and Jack found he couldn’t quite be mad about the bees entrenched in Aunt Iris’s walls.
There was a woman standing at the desk, looking custom-designed to match the décor. Jack had no idea how old she was. She could have been forty; she could have been a hundred. She had that wise look about her he sometimes saw in the elderly patients he treated, but her face was virtually unlined. Expression serene, she had long gray hair and matching eyes.
There were also beads. Lots and lots of beads. She looked like an exotic Christmas tree from a faraway land.
She smiled and clapped her bejeweled hands. The woman clearly had a thing for jewelry, but in fairness, she wore it well.
“Ah, I’m so glad you could join us this lovely weekend.” Her unusual silver-gray eyes twinkled. “It’s going to be a magical night, filled with wonderful surprises.”
Yeah, that’s exactly what Jack was afraid of.
Aunt Iris patted Jack’s arm. “I’m so sorry about this, I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not”—he gave the older woman a squeeze—“we’re just happy to be here.”
“I promise you’ll have fun.” She held out her hands as though presenting the woman behind the counter. “This is Amelia Rose. She’s the owner of this marvelous place. Now, I know you’ve been inconvenienced, but I promise you this is a special treat. People come from all over just for a chance to stay at Rose Cottage on Halloween night.”
Chloe turned around, her expression fixed in that happy, excited look she got. She grinned. “This place is fantastic. I love it.”
“Thank you, Chloe,” Amelia Rose said, her voice light and lyrical. “After you and your Jack get settled, I’d like to invite you for tea and cookies.”
Maybe Chloe was right about this being a quiet party.
Tea and cookies didn’t exactly evoke the same images as the night they’d spent on Bourbon Street in New Orleans celebrating their twenty-first birthdays.
Half that night was still a black hole where his memory should be.
Not that he had anything against parties, because he liked having a good time as much as the next person. Only he was burnt out, working far too much lately. Insane, grueling hours at the hospital, and he needed a break from crazy.
What he really needed was a nap.
Chloe jumped up and down with apparent glee. “We’d love that, wouldn’t we, Jack?”
Iris and Amelia Rose looked at him, gazes questioning.
He patted his stomach. “I do love cookies.”
Just then a woman juggling a huge pumpkin cake flew through the living room on her way to the dining room.
Jack grimaced. “Does she need help?”
“All’s well,” Amelia Rose said, in her calm voice. She had an accent but it was hard to distinguish the region. “Let me show you to your room.”
A single skeleton key dangled from a rose key chain off her slim fingers.
Jack stared at the key, then turned and raised a brow at Chloe.
A small frown formed at her lips, before her expression brightened. She grabbed the key from the woman’s hand, then tilted her head pointedly at him. “Jack needs his key, too.”
The woman glanced first at Chloe and then at Jack. “I’m afraid I only had one room available, and I only have that because of a la
st-minute cancelation, but Iris assured me that wouldn’t be a problem.”
Chloe swung in her aunt’s direction. “Aunt Iris, you said you had rooms for us.”
The older lady cleared her throat. “I said I had a room.”
Chloe’s brow creased, as though concentrating, before she sighed. “You did.” She turned toward him. “Do you mind?”
He was exhausted and all he wanted was to kick his feet up and relax, maybe shut his eyes for five minutes.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Not a big deal.”
So they had to share a room. Yes, being able to lie around in his boxer-briefs would have been nice, but such was life. Chloe was an easy person to be around and they’d probably be together every second anyway, unless they were sleeping.
Besides, they’d shared plenty of rooms in their long acquaintance. They’d grown up next-door neighbors. They’d camped out in backyard tents, snuck into each other’s rooms as kids. Now she occasionally crashed at his house or he at hers. Sleeping in a double room wasn’t the end of the world.
And all he really wanted was to lie down.
Chloe tucked her hair behind her ear. “Are you sure? I know you’ve had a tough couple of shifts and probably want to veg.”
She was right, but she didn’t infringe on that, except for the underwear part, and sweatpants were just as comfortable. He’d ditch the boxers and probably be even more comfortable. “I can veg with you there.”
She smiled. “I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”
He loved her, but quiet she was not. “Chloe, if you stay quiet for five minutes I’ll consider it a miracle.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, then made a motion with her hand like she zipped her lips, before she tossed the imaginary key over her shoulder.
Amelia Rose pointed down the hallway. “You’re in room number three, a lucky number, you know.”
For reasons unknown to him, a bad feeling settled in Jack’s chest, but he shook it off. There was nothing to worry about. This was not the first in a series of unpleasant events. Everything would be fine.
“No, I didn’t know,” Chloe said.
Amelia Rose nodded. “I modeled the room with the three of cups in mind. From the tarot. It’s one of the best cards to get in a reading.”
“How fascinating,” Chloe said. “What does it mean?”
The woman gave Chloe a peaceful smile. “When you come to tea I’ll tell you. In fact, I’ll do even better and give you a reading, if you’re interested.”
Chloe’s expression lit with excitement. “I’d love to. I’ve always wanted to get my cards done, but never found the opportunity.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” Amelia Rose said, her face shrouded in mystery. She gestured down the hall to their room. “Your fortune awaits.”
Chloe hooked her arm in his. “This is going to be excellent.”
Jack chuckled. “Let’s go check out our room.”
As they walked down the hall to door number three, a slither of unease slid down his spine. He had the sudden urge to look over his shoulder, but he didn’t know why.
Chloe slid the key into the lock.
Jack’s heart gave a hard thump.
The door opened.
“Oh,” Chloe said. Her voice a bit breathless.
He peered over her head.
There was only one bed. One very small bed.
So far the number three was anything but lucky.
Chapter 3
Chloe turned to Jack and held up her hands. “Okay, don’t freak out.”
“I do not freak out.” Jack narrowed his eyes on the bed, then glanced around the room. “I never freak out.”
He didn’t look at all happy, and Chloe couldn’t blame him. It was one thing to accidentally fall asleep together while they watched a movie, but consciously sleeping together in the same bed seemed a little different.
Chloe glanced around the small room. It was pretty and quaint. A sitting area with two chairs and a reading table in between nestled against the windows, but there was no couch.
Chloe looked down. The floors were hardwood.
The bed was the only sleeping option. She’d offer to take the floor, but Jack would never go for that in a million years.
“Isn’t it lovely?” Iris said, a sly smile on her lips.
Okay, she could handle this. So they’d have to share a bed; it wasn’t a big deal. This was Jack. They’d slept together—platonically—plenty of times. Yes, by accident, but it wasn’t a huge deal.
She thought of the last time they’d fallen asleep on the couch and bit her bottom lip.
Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “Where are we supposed to sleep?”
Iris looked at the bed, then back at Jack. “Why, on the bed, of course.”
Jack took a deep breath, as though he worked to control his temper.
Chloe hurried in and held up her hands. She’d at least make the offer. What else could she do? “It’s not a big deal, Jack. I’ll sleep on the floor. You know I can sleep anywhere.”
“You are not sleeping on the floor,” Jack said, his voice strained. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“You will not!” Chloe would not allow that. The guy had probably slept less than eight hours in the past three days. He needed his sleep.
Jack pointed to the bed. “Then there’s only one option.”
“I’m totally fine,” she said, her voice too rushed. She was fine with it. They just didn’t normally crawl into bed with their pj’s on.
Iris wrung her hands. “I know it’s not ideal, but it was the best I could do on short notice. I didn’t think you’d mind, because you’re such good friends. I remember you used to have campouts all the time in the backyard when you were little.”
Exactly. There was no difference between sleeping in a tent at eleven and being smashed together in what could barely be called a double bed at thirty. No difference at all.
Iris’s expression twisted with worry, and Chloe rushed over and gave her aunt a little hug. “Of course it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, we’ll work it out.”
Jack sat on the bed and pressed a finger to his temple.
It was time for Iris to go. Chloe ushered her aunt toward the door. Iris dragged her feet, looking back at Jack, before saying urgently to Chloe, “Tea’s in thirty minutes. You can’t miss it.” She clasped Chloe’s hand and squeezed. “You and Jack have to come. Everyone wants Amelia Rose to tell their fortune, but only a select few get the chance. She offered to read your cards, you have to promise me you’ll be there.”
Dramatic as always, but Aunt Iris didn’t need to fret Chloe wouldn’t miss the chance. She’d always wanted to have her fortune read.
“We’ll be there.” Chloe crossed her heart and kissed her fingertips. “I promise.”
Iris gave Jack a smile. “Do you promise?”
“Sure,” Jack said, but his voice already sounded sleepy.
Appeased, Iris nodded and slipped from the room, the door clicking closed behind her as she left.
Chloe took a deep breath and turned to Jack. “It’s not a big deal, right? It’s not like we haven’t slept together before.”
Jack’s brow rose. “It’s not that.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
He gestured over the ivory quilt. “I’m six-four, it’s a double bed. There’s barely enough room for me.”
Chloe shrugged. “I won’t take up much room. I’ll scrunch over to the side and it will be fine.”
Jack flopped down, stretching out his arms.
She sat next to him and poked his thigh. “It’s only for one night.”
He nodded, pressing his open palm on the curve of her back. She pointed to the open door that led to a small bathroom. “And look, we have a bath, we should consider ourselves lucky. Wouldn’t you rather have a private bathroom than your own bed?”
“True.” He rubbed his hand over her spine in a slow circle. “As long as you’re comfortable, I’m comf
ortable.”
She craned her neck and looked down at him. “It’s hardly like I have to worry about you taking advantage of me.”
Dark lashes brushed his cheeks as his eyes drifted closed. “Never.”
He’d always been the one man she could trust. The one she could depend on. He was her rock, her confidant, so engrained in her life she couldn’t imagine it without him.
Nobody understood. Not even her best girlfriends, who kept insisting that they should do it already and get it over with. But it wasn’t like that with Jack. Their friendship was far too important to ruin with relationship stuff. Every relationship she ever had ended in disaster.
Besides, she didn’t think of Jack that way. He was her best friend. She certainly had no qualms or worries about sleeping in the same bed with him. Definitely not.
His fingers ran a slow path over her spine and, eyes still closed, he said, “I can feel you thinking.”
“Do you need a nap?” She lay down next to him and he curled his arms around her shoulders and flung his other arm over his eyes.
“Just let me rest for a few minutes.”
“I can let you sleep and go get my fortune read.”
A smile played over his lips. “I don’t want to miss that. Besides, I promised Aunt Iris. Wake me in twenty.”
She slid her leg over his thighs. “Deal.”
She curled in close to him and closed her eyes. “See, this isn’t so bad.”
His fingers stroked over her waist and when he spoke his voice was sleepy. “Not bad at all.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Chloe woke from a catnap refreshed and full of energy. She got up from the bed, stretched, and looked down at a peaceful, sleeping Jack.
She’d said she’d wake him, but didn’t have the heart. He worked so hard and he was so tired. Jack worked in the only trauma center in a fifty-mile radius; everything bad and horrible came his way. A job he loved but it wore on him. The stress. The pressure. The long hours. Life and death hanging in his capable hands.
Better to let him sleep; he didn’t believe in fortune and fate anyway.
She scribbled a note and tiptoed out of the room. Ten minutes later she drank tea out of a delicate flowered cup in the innkeeper’s quarters with her aunt and the enigmatic Amelia Rose.