Addictive Paranormal Reads Halloween Box Set

by Nana Malone

  Grandpa pushed himself to his feet, brushed flakes of snow off his front and followed her, muttering, “Humph, first words she’s said to me since she started to date that bastard Morty.”

  Amanda met Dane’s gaze. He raised one eyebrow in question, then gave her a crooked smile. It was a friend’s smile, a familiar smile, the kind of smile that made her feel warm and fuzzy inside, and hinted at the length of time they’d known each other. Since grade school or earlier. Hadn’t her mom once said they’d played together in the crib?

  It was a long time to be friends and she wondered why he’d never found her attractive enough to make a move on her.

  She cocked her head to the side and looked up at him. “What will your grandpa do if she decides not to give up the urn?”

  “He understands what your grandma needs.” He took her by the elbow and urged her after the older couple. “And that, your grinchness, is what true love is all about.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Four

  True love.

  Amanda didn’t think she’d recognize it if it hit her square between the eyes. Of course, there was her parents’ relationship to consider. They’d been together forever and judging by what she’d seen in the garage that morning...

  No, she was so not going there.

  At the moment, she would have preferred to avoid them, but when she returned home from the cemetery with Grandma, she encountered her mom in the kitchen.

  Dora grabbed an empty wine glass, filled it to the top and refused to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry about what you saw.”

  “Forget about it, Mom.”

  “We should at least talk. It’s natural for two people to—”

  “Seriously, Mom. We had this talk when I was thirteen.” Hoping to distract the older woman, she gestured toward the stove. “Is there something I can help with?”

  Her mom raised the glass to her lips and chugged half of it down before wiping the back of her wrist across her mouth. “Your dad is embarrassed.”

  Not nearly enough to never do it again, she was sure. “Next time, since I can safely assume there’ll be a next time, perhaps you should hang a sock on the door. Or a sign. Your Parents Are Making Whoopee. That’ll keep me out.”

  With a nod of agreement, her mom proceeded to gulp down the rest of her wine. As she set the glass on the counter, Amanda noticed the amount of food cooking on the stove and in the oven. “This isn’t all for me, is it?”

  “Dane and Morty are coming for supper.” Tottering on her tiptoes, her mom reached into the highest cupboard for a bowl. “Just because they’re almost family doesn’t mean you shouldn’t dress up a little.”

  She glanced down at her Christmas green sweater and blue jeans. They were clean, no holes, fairly fashionable. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  Her mom handed her the bowl and pointed to the potatoes on the stove. “It never hurts to look attractive, honey. You never know who might be looking at you as a potential ... well, you know.”

  “Mr. Weatherby is already taken. And Dane is—” Amanda wondered what Dane would think if she showed up for supper in a slinky, low cut dress. Would his eyes light with appreciation? Or would he laugh at her attempt to be sexy? “Dane and I are just good friends.”

  “You could be more.” Her mom glanced her way, then turned her attention back to the gravy bubbling on the stove. “Or not.”

  “Let’s go with the or not.” Setting the bowl on the countertop, Amanda grabbed the pot and spooned the potatoes into the bowl. The front doorbell rang, and down the hallway she heard her dad’s voice as he greeted the new arrivals. Dane was here. Should she be excited or go with the or not? Her stomach tumbled and stumbled, giving her the answer. “Mom, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure, honey, anything.”

  Scooping the last of the potatoes into the bowl, she set the pot in the sink and turned on the hot water tap. “Was Dad your first love?”

  “Of course not. I had other boyfriends. Lot of boyfriends. Lots and lots and lots of boyfriends. I was a cheerleader, you know.” Her mom jumped up and flopped her arms in the air in a vague imitation. “Rah, rah, rah and all that.”

  Amanda sighed. Getting a straight answer from her mom was more difficult than dealing with her grandpa. “Focus, Mom. Was Dad the first man you loved?”

  “Honey, what’s this about?”

  “Just curious.” She turned off the tap, went to stand beside the stove and watched her mom stir the gravy. “How did you know that he was the one?”

  Her mom peered at her, then turned her attention back to the bubbling gravy and gave the mixture a stir. “I always knew Dad was the one for me. Right from the moment I laid eyes on him.”

  The deep rumble of Dane’s voice drifted into the kitchen and Amanda felt her stomach dip, then rebalance. The image of him towering over her when he’d caught her as she’d tumbled from the car, broad shouldered and strong, crawled into her thoughts and stayed. “You’re not answering my question. I mean, how am I supposed to know when I meet the man I’m meant to spend the rest of my life with?”

  “You want specifics?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “You and Stephanie. You both think relationships are complicated and they shouldn’t be.” Dora took Amanda’s wrist, set the spoon in her hand, and headed to the fridge where she pulled out salad and cheese. When she straightened, a bowl in each hand, her expression was thoughtful. “You know, I don’t think I can name one or two specific things. Dad just knows me. He gets me. He understands what I want or need, sometimes even before I’ve figured it out myself.”

  “Not helping, Mom.”

  “Okay, here’s an example.” She set down the bowls, glanced over her shoulder toward the living room and crossed the room to stand at Amanda’s side. “Last night when we climbed into bed—”

  “Stop.”

  “I thought you wanted an example.”

  “And I thought I made it perfectly clear by the oh yuck that I didn’t want to hear about your sex life.”

  Her mom appeared startled, then laughed and took the spoon from Amanda. “You have your grandpa’s sense of humor.”

  “I’m serious, Mom.”

  “What I was going to say,” she said as she turned off the burner, lifted the pot and poured the gravy into a bowl, “was that your dad gave me a neck massage and said goodnight. He knew I was too tired last night to have all of that great sex you seem to think we have.” She stopped pouring and met Amanda’s gaze. Humor and affection mingled together in her blue eyes. “Why don’t you call everyone to the table, honey? I think we’re all ready to eat.”

  Amanda picked up the gravy bowl, grabbed the salad and cheese on her way past the fridge, and carried it all into the dining room to set on the table. “Supper’s ready.”

  Her dad glanced her way. His cheeks turned ruddy and he directed his attention to seating everyone at the table. Her mom came out of the kitchen, balancing bowls and platters of food with her arms and hands like a professional server.

  All too soon, Amanda found herself seated next to Dane. For some strange reason, she didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to meet his knowing gaze, didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that he knew her better than anyone else.

  But God, he smelled good. She wanted to lean toward him and press her nose against his neck and maybe stay there for an hour or three.

  He bumped her shoulder with his and whispered, “I composed a special Valentine’s note for you.”

  She looked up into his eyes and experienced a longing that was heightened by his hand on her knee, warm and firm and familiar. And when she looked down, he was sliding the note up her thigh, sending a rush of breath-stealing tingles toward the center of her body.

  “Stop that,” she hissed. She grabbed his wrist, tugged the note from his hand and met his gaze again, the ever present laughter twinkling in his eyes.

  Grandma shuffled into the room, interrupting the moment. As Morty stood
up and held out her chair, the elderly woman leaned across the table, pushed aside the Valentine centerpiece, and began to set the urn down in the middle of the table. Amanda grabbed the bowl of potatoes out of the way and heard her mom sigh.

  “Elvira, can’t you leave Dad’s ashes in your room for just one meal?”

  Grandma caressed the urn, then sat down. “Morty and I had a long talk today. Even though we’ve found a lovely spot for George to spend eternity, we’ve agreed to wait till after the wedding to put George to rest.”

  Grandpa’s image popped up behind Grandma and Morty, startling Amanda into nearly dropping the bowl. “Putting me out with the trash, she means. Look how she fusses over the bastard.”

  Amanda watched Grandma stab a slice of ham with her fork, set it on Morty’s plate, then proceed to cut it up for him. The older woman froze and sniffed the air. “There it is again. Who’s wearing George’s aftershave?”

  When all three men answered in the negative, Grandma resumed cutting Morty’s food, her concentration fierce.

  “Used to cut my meat for me. Thought it was because she loved me.” Grandpa folded his arms over his chest and glared at the back of Morty’s head. “Fricking bastard, fricking bastard, fricking bastard.”

  Dane elbowed Amanda in the ribs, regaining her attention. “Are you gonna to keep those potatoes all to yourself or share them with the rest of us?”

  She shoved the bowl into his hands, remembered the note he’d given her and started to open it. But across the table, while Morty grinned at Elvira and she gave him a weak smile back, Grandpa slid Morty’s unused knife off the table and held it behind the other man’s back. “Make her stop or I swear, I’ll stab the bastard in the back.”

  Amanda jumped to her feet, crushing Dane’s note in her hand. “Don’t!”

  The table went silent and everyone stared at her, while Grandpa mimed stabbing Morty in the back before he floated away with the knife still in his hand. He plopped onto a chair in the corner and proceeded to sulk.

  Grandma set down the utensils, leaned forward and glared at her. “What’s the matter with you?”

  Amanda sat back down, Dane’s note crushed in her fist, embarrassed and annoyed and worried about her grandpa. “Doesn’t Mr. Weatherby know how to cut his own meat?”

  “Of course he does, girl, but it makes me feel useful again.”

  “Well, stop it, Grandma. Grandpa doesn’t like it and he’s getting angry.” She slumped on her chair, miserable, saddened by the sorrowful expression she’d put on her grandma’s face when all she’d wanted to do was keep Grandpa from stabbing Morty. “I’m sorry, Grandma, but he thought you cut his meat because you loved him.”

  With her expression set in stone, Grandma pushed back her chair, grabbed the urn, and hugged it to her chest. “You’re just being ugly and I won’t stand for it.”

  As Grandma stomped away, Amanda turned her attention to Morty. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Weatherby. I had to do something or you would’ve been hurt.”

  He slid back his chair and stood up. “You’re mother’s right, Amanda. I’ve been patient about Elvira’s attachment to George’s ashes, but we’re getting married the day after tomorrow. It’s time I talked to her, set down some rules.”

  As he left the room, Grandpa floated out after him, thankfully without the knife in his hand.

  Her mom pushed back her chair, the legs scraping against the hardwood floor, and stood. “Well, I guess supper is over. Tom, help me clear off the dishes.”

  “Mom, Gramps was going to—”

  Her mom stamped her foot. “Enough of your nonsense. I understand Grandma getting married must be difficult for you. You loved your Grandpa George and never thought he’d be replaced. But whether you like it or not, the wedding is happening.”

  As Dora stomped out to the kitchen, Amanda’s dad poked at a piece of ham with his fork. Finally, he sighed, pushed to his feet and started to gather plates. “A man could starve in this joint.”

  And like her mom, he stomped out to the kitchen.

  Silence enveloped the dining room, until Amanda found the nerve to look at Dane. “I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes because she knew her apologies were worthless. Shoring up her nerve, she opened her eyes again. “I think it’s wonderful that Grandma’s marrying your grandpa.”

  Dane folded his arms across his chest, disappointment radiating from every inch of his big body. “Then what was that all about?”

  Amanda turned her gaze back to the crumpled note in her hand.

  How could she tell him about her grandpa? Hey Dane, Gramps is a ghost and he wants Morty to die a long, slow, ugly death. So if you don’t want that to happen, you better help me stop the wedding.

  He wouldn’t believe her.

  “I’ve got nothing.” She slumped back on the chair, smoothed the crumpled note against the tabletop and forced cheer into her voice. “By the way, thanks for the note.”

  With a snort, he pushed back his chair and stood up, shuttering his gaze with a sweep of his lashes. “I’m leaving. Thank your mom for supper, will you?”

  Amanda crushed the note in her hand and jumped to her feet. “But you haven’t even touched your plate.”

  “Like everyone else, I’ve lost my appetite.”

  She followed him into the living room and while he continued on to the front porch, she kneeled on her dad’s favorite chair. A bright red Valentine shaped pillow sat on the arm, and she picked it up and hugged it to her chest.

  Totally ignoring her, Dane pulled on his jacket and boots.

  Okay, somehow she had to make this right, couldn’t let him go away mad. What if he never came back?

  In a breath stealing rush, it hit her. She loved Dane Weatherby. Maybe she’d always loved him. Or maybe it had grown on her while she’d been pretending to be a love-grinch.

  Could she make Dane love her back?

  Was it worth the risk to their friendship to discover the truth?

  When he yanked open the front door, she jumped to her feet. “Please, don’t be mad at me.”

  He ignored her and walked out of the house.

  As the front door clicked shut behind him, her knees gave out and she slumped down onto the floor. Clutching the pillow to her chest, she smoothed out the note and silently read the words Dane had written.

  Dear Mandy. Be my Valentine Grinch Forever.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, Amanda rolled out of bed, showered and dressed, then in an attempt to make herself irresistible, spent the next half hour fiddling with her hair and makeup.

  Valentine Grinch?

  Forever?

  Was there more behind the message than one friend teasing another? She intended to find out whether Dane’s cryptic note had been written in jest or in seriousness. If she didn’t, she’d always wonder.

  As she skipped down the stairs, she encountered Grandma Elvira who was still lugging the urn around as though it had become a permanent attachment. “Morning, Grandma.”

  “It’s about time you got up, girl.” The elderly woman paused to look her up and down. “You’re kind of spiffed up for cleaning the car. You do remember it needs to be decorated today, don’t you?”

  Amanda patted her grandma on the arm. “I’m heading over to Dane’s right now to get him and then we’ll get the car decorated.”

  With a stiff nod, Grandma continued on her way down the hallway. “Make sure you talk to your mother. She has everything laid out in the garage for you.”

  By the time she entered the kitchen, her mom was putting the last of the decorative icing on the cake.

  “Honey, I was just about to send your father up to wake you.”

  “I’m off to grab Dane and then we’ll get the car cleaned and decorated.”

  Her mom set aside the utensils, turned on the tap and rinsed her hands. “Well, what do you think?”

  Rich creamy icing coated the four layers. Her mom had added blush pink roses and wisps of gree
n leaves. “It’s gorgeous. You have a real talent for cake decorating.”

  “I do, don’t I?” With a satisfied smile, she turned off the tap, grabbed a hand towel and faced Amanda. Her eyes widened. “Wow, don’t you look nice today.”

  “It’s nothing, just old jeans and a shirt.”

  “But the makeup and hair. I mean, you always look nice, honey, but today you look...” Her mom’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward and sniffed. “Are you wearing perfume?”

  Amanda felt her face get warm. “Just a squirt.”

  “Mmmm.” Giving Amanda the once over again, she turned back to the sink and started washing up the dishes. “The decorations are all laid out for you.”

  “I know. I ran into Grandma on the stairs. Is she ever going to put down that urn?”

  “I don’t know, but that’s not the issue right now. The big Valentine heart with Elvira and Morty goes on the front of the car, of course. And the tiny pink flowers can be placed in neat rows from the front to the back.” She pointed to the cake and over her shoulder, flashed a grin. “It took me two weeks of experimenting to get it right, but now the color matches the roses on the cake just perfectly.”

  “Mom, you have too much time on my hands.”

  “Well, if I had grandchildren. Just saying, honey.”

  With a laugh, Amanda leaned forward, gave her mom a peck on the cheek and headed out out of the kitchen. “I’m heading over to Dane’s right now so we can get the car done before lunch.”

  “If you’re looking for your dad or me, we’re taking Elvira and Morty downtown to pick up their wedding attire. See you later, honey.”

  At the front door, Amanda hesitated.

  What if Dane was still pissed?

  What if his Valentine’s note meant nothing?

  What if she chickened out and never found out? She’d always wonder, always regret what might have been.

  The beginning of a headache pinched between her brows. Ignoring it, she pulled on her jacket and boots, and while she marched across the street and pounded on Dane’s front door, she shored up her determination.