by T. M. Cromer
“I want you gone,” he ground out.
Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears, she thought she’d misheard. “Pardon?”
“I want you gone. You. Your sanctuary. Your family. I want you out of my town.”
The dry heaves threatened to return. She bit the inside of her cheek and concentrated on breathing. In and out. In and out. Deep breaths.
He skirted the table and stopped in the doorway. “Summer.”
She didn’t face him. Couldn’t.
“You’re a danger to this community. You have one month to be packed up and out of here,” he decreed. “If you’re not, I’ll find something to charge you all with. All of you. Understood?”
How she managed to nod was beyond her.
“I mean it.”
The desire to physically strike took root inside her. She tamped down the urge before she whirled around. Just because she wouldn’t physically hurt him, didn’t mean she couldn’t wound with her words as he was doing to her.
“You’re a coward, Cooper. You act all noble, as if you’re looking out for the people of this town, when in all actuality you’re a scared little boy, afraid the big bad witches will turn your exterior into a warty toad to match your interior,” she ranted. “Fuck. You!”
She sneezed. Out of every open portal, mice of every color and size, scurried into the room. Roughly fifty rodents lined the space between her and Coop like a battalion of soldiers marching into war.
His fear was palpable, and she reveled in it.
“One month, Summer. And tell your sister to remove whatever curse she saddled my brother with.”
“She didn’t, you jackass!” She sneezed harder. Her rodent army squeaked and took a collective step forward.
Coop backed away.
“They were in love. Or at least she was. Your brother’s too stupid to understand that. Seems all the Carlyle men are dim witted.”
Rage darkened his face. “One. Month.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I heard you the first time, you posturing warthog. Get the hell out of my house,” she snarled. Achoo!
The mice surged forward. Coop ran for the door as if the hounds of hell were on his heels.
Summer’s wicked laughter carried out the open window and echoed in the breeze. Sure, she’d given the sound a little boost to freak him the fuck out. She had to take her pleasure where she could.
As he tore from the drive, she hung her head and fought the moisture building behind her lids. She would not cry. Not over that POS. Not again.
13
Chapter Thirteen has been omitted for obvious reasons. Consider this intermission. Feel free to take a bathroom break or get a cup of coffee. Your story will resume momentarily. This book is an all-nighter.
14
“I’m not ‘fraid of her,” Coop slurred from where he sat sprawled in his recliner.
Keaton snorted and took a pull of his beer.
“I’m not!” Coop tried to sit up and tilted to the left. “I’m. Not!”
“Keep telling yourself that, C.C.”
“Doeshn’t matter. Doeshn’t matter no more.” He stared morosely into his whisky.
“Don’t use a double negative in a sentence. You sound like an idiot,” Keaton corrected.
“Shu’up. Think you’re so shmar…shmar…smart. Summer said you’re shtupid.”
Keaton straightened and glared. “She said I’m stupid? Are you sure she wasn’t talking about you?”
“N-nope. Ssshe shaid you.” Coop cast Keaton what he hoped was a superior grin then frowned. “Who’sh shitting next to you?”
Keaton spit out the beer he started to consume. “Shitting? No one is shitting next to me, dumbass.”
“Sh-sh-…” Coop geared up to try again. “Sitting nest to you.”
“Dude, you are so wasted,” his brother laughed. “No one is sitting next to me either.”
“Shu’up.”
The brothers drank in silence.
“She shaid Autumn lovesh you.”
“Doubtful.” Keaton stood. “I don’t want to talk about Autumn. Ever.”
Coop nodded because words became too difficult to form.
After his brother left, his thoughts turned to Summer. If he’d have thought about it beforehand, he’d have realized she was a passion-packed pleasure palace in a pint-sized package.
He’d only kissed Summer twice, and yet somehow he knew he’d remember the feel of her mouth on his for the remainder of his days. The softness of her full, rosy lips already haunted his dreams. After this morning, he could add the visual of her incredible, creamy breasts.
He groaned and pressed his fists to his eyes. God, he needed to get laid.
Dating in the town where you worked was akin to shitting where you ate. You didn’t do it. Yet, prior to finding out the Witches of Eastwick lived next door, Coop was fine with the idea of dating Summer. But he had to stop fantasizing about that porn-worthy mouth and breasts that could make a grown man weep. No good would come of it.
She’d sworn she hadn’t placed any type of spell on him, and he believed her. But it didn’t lessen the fact that she’d used magic to control him. That, he couldn’t forgive.
A little voice inside taunted, “But she forgave you for shooting her.”
She also forgave him for being an ass to her in high school.
“Let’s face it, you are an ass,” Little Voice said.
“Shu’up!” he shouted. “Just shut the hell up!”
“Coop?”
Squinting through bleary eyes, he registered Knox leaning against the door frame to the man cave.
The sonofabitch probably still wanted Summer. Wouldn’t care if she was a witch or not.
“Summer doesn’t deserve name calling, Coop. I don’t know what the two of you fought about but calling her a witch is beneath you.”
The coldness in Knox’s tone was unmistakable.
“You want her? She’ssh yoursh.” Coop attempted a bow and waved his hand magnanimously, almost tumbling face first from his seat.
“Generous. But she isn’t yours to give.”
“She damn well ish mine!” he argued.
A mocking grin spread across the other man’s face. “Ah, there’s the Cooper we all know and love. The guy who hates to share. No one will dare touch your toy. Not if they know what’s good for them,” Knox snarked.
“Whadaya talking about?”
“You honestly don’t remember, do you?”
The room continued to rotate back and forth long after he stopped shaking his head.
“You think this thing with Summer is all one sided, but it isn’t. You forgot your part in her crush, don’t you?” Knox sneered and shook his head. “Whenever another guy showed any interest, you made sure to give her just enough attention to keep her on the hook. But you never reeled that fish in, did you? You left her dangling… until the prom incident.”
Coop remained silent and tried to focus on one of the two Knox figures standing before him.
“That poor kid Tommy Tomlinson would’ve given his left nut to date her.” Knox said.
“He was jush-just a kid my dad hired part time to help in the barn.”
“The end of summer your junior year, Uncle Phillip decided to throw us all a pool party for all the hard work we’d done. The Thornes were there, and Tommy had finally worked up the nerve to talk to Summer. Remember.” Knox made the word “remember” sound like more of a command than a question.
Coop’s drunken haze mysteriously vanished, and memories flooded back.
Summer had been sitting on the edge of the pool, laughing at something Tommy had said. Her laughter had been unrestrained and beckoned Coop forward. A true siren’s song.
He’d never seen her so carefree before. Across the expanse of the pool, he’d caught her eye, blew her a kiss, and winked. Then he cannonballed into the pool, drenching the proffered cake Tommy had brought her. When the other kid left to get her another piece, Coop hauled himself from the pool
and into Tommy’s spot.
All he knew was that he’d wanted to hear that laughter again.
“You remember now,” Knox said with grim satisfaction.
Yes, he remembered. “The kid never stood a chance,” Coop retorted, all surly attitude.
“You made sure of it,” Knox countered. “And let’s not forget Henry Wallis. We were all at the Juke Box restaurant, and he mentioned to you that he planned to ask her to prom.”
“He wasn’t serious,” Coop protested. “He was fucking with me.”
“No, Coop. He was completely serious. He liked her and saw you treated her like an afterthought. But you mocked him so badly, he lied to save face. Said he was only asking her as a joke.” Knox uncrossed his arms and strode forward. “That’s the same night you had the bright idea to destroy any affection she had for you. Did you know the ride she caught home from prom was from Henry?”
He hadn’t. Coop had tried to block the incident from his mind because he’d been ashamed of his behavior.
“When you went off to college, they dated for a while.”
His snarl echoed in the cavernous basement room. “You’re a liar.”
“Nope. He was her first real boyfriend,” Knox taunted.
In his mind’s eye, Coop could picture Henry and Summer together. His lean, lithe body and her curvy frame complimented each other. They would’ve held hands and laughed while sharing cheese fries or some other thing young people loved so much. Henry would’ve teased the color into her cheeks, and she would’ve had the special glow that she got when a man flirted with her.
Those large sky-blue eyes would widen and shimmer with… love.
He was going to be sick. Coop staggered to the bathroom and splashed water on his clammy skin.
“Did you even know you’ve been in love with her all this time?” Knox asked gently from the doorway.
“No.”
“You poor bastard.” This time there was no real heat in his cousin’s words.
Coop almost detected sympathy. And suddenly, he was sober as a judge. “It doesn’t matter. She’s leaving.”
“Ask her to stay.”
“It’s not that simple, Knox. I’m the one who ordered her and her sisters to get the hell out of town or I’d arrest them on some trumped-up excuse.”
“I guess you’d better figure out how to undo your fuck up.” Knox slapped him on the back. Hard. Only his other hand on Coop’s shoulder stopped him from flying into the mirror.
“Dude, you nearly knocked me into next week.”
“Call it payback,” Knox laughed. “For the record, Tommy and Henry weren’t the only two who were crushing on Summer.”
“You’d better not be referring to yourself.”
Knox’s amused laugh bounced around the small bathroom. “You’re such an oblivious idiot, Coop. It might be endearing if it wasn’t so frustrating.”
“Why does everyone keep calling me an idiot?” he muttered.
“If the shoe fits, cuz. If the shoe fits.”
“Are we doing rock, paper, scissors to see which of us runs to Harkins’ Hardware for more boxes?” Summer asked.
“What’s wrong with the Pack’N’Ship?” Autumn asked as she took care to encase their mother’s good dishes in bubble wrap.
“I already called. They’re out.”
“They’re a shipping store! How can they be out of supplies?”
Summer shrugged. “Rosie McDonough is the manager. That might have something to do with it.”
“Say no more. I swear that woman sleeps her way into managerial positions in this town. She’s had enough of them.”
“It isn’t Christian to judge your neighbors,” Summer scolded but secretly agreed.
Autumn snorted. “Last time I checked, we fell under the category of pagans.”
“Oh, yeah. Judge away.”
“Did you really cast a spell that blacked out her teeth and added horns to Cooper in all their yearbook pictures that year?”
Summer grinned at the memory. “No. That was courtesy of Spring.”
“No! Innocent little Spring? Butter wouldn’t melt in our sister’s mouth.”
After a fit of laughter, the sisters wiped tears from their eyes.
“No amount of threatening phone calls from Rosie’s mother could get the school to reprint them,” Autumn added through her giggles.
“Ah, good times,” Summer quipped as she returned to sorting through the pots and pans. “I want Mom’s cast iron pan, but I feel it belongs to this house.”
“They do seem to go hand-in-hand, don’t they?”
With a sigh, Summer returned the pan to the cabinet.
“You know you aren’t required to leave, right?”
She shrugged. “Cooper will make life miserable for all of us. It’s better I go.”
“I believe his dictate was that the whole lot of us clear out,” Autumn reminded her.
“Yeah, but he meant me. He can’t expect Spring and Winnie to close down their businesses.”
“What about yours?” Autumn was working herself into a fine rage. “You’re the large animal veterinarian to half the farmers in this county, and you run the local rescue. It’s no small feat to pack up and relocate.”
“To him, I’m a nuisance and a danger.” And wasn’t that a dagger to the old heart? Summer shook her head. “Never, in my whole life, have I done anything to hurt anyone. Half the time, I don’t charge for my services. But the truth is, I’ll never get any respect. Not from these people.” She bit her lip and blinked back the tears of self-pity. “I’m that crazy Summer Thorne who collects exotic animals.”
“It’s so unfair,” Autumn grumbled. “If it wasn’t against the laws of magic, I’d—”
When her sister halted her threat, Summer pulled her head out of the lower cabinet. “You’d what—oh.”
Cooper took up the entire kitchen doorway. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, making them, in contrast, a brighter, more vivid blue-gray. Even signs of restless nights looked fabulous on him.
Summer wanted to hate him. Wanted to stamp her foot and repeat Autumn’s words because it really was so unfair.
“I still have two more weeks, Sheriff,” Summer said, careful to keep her voice emotionless and her expression as neutral as she could manage.
“I need your help.”
Whatever she expected, that wasn’t it. As a result, she stayed in the half-crouched position, mouth hanging open.
“One of my mares. I can’t reach Parsons.”
Since she was the only other large animal veterinarian in the area, of course he’d come to her if Dr. Parsons was unavailable. She shoved down the resentful side of her emotions. “Gotcha. I’ll follow you over.”
Autumn stepped forward to block her exit. “No!”
For the second time in as many minutes, Summer was speechless.
Her sister not so much. “Screw you, Coop. You can’t come in here, after ordering Summer to leave town like an old, drunk sheriff in a spaghetti western, then expect her to come running whenever you crook your little finger.”
Autumn’s loyalty was heartwarming—and hilarious.
It also helped infuse steel into Summer’s spine. “It’s okay. I’m not doing it for him, Tums. I’m doing it for the mare.” They shared a hug. “Thank you for defending me,” Summer whispered in her ear. “I love you.”
“Me, too.”
Summer giggled. “An old, drunk sheriff in a spaghetti western?”
“It was all I could think to come up with.” Autumn cast Coop the stink eye. “Do you need me to come with you?”
“Not unless you want to.”
“In that case, I’ll stay and finish packing.”
“Thanks, it’s appreciated.”
Coop cleared his throat. “You don’t have to—”
Summer cut him off, not caring what he had to say. “Let’s go see about your mare.”
He followed her to the van. “Summer, I’m trying to tell you—”
Again, she didn’t let him finish. She climbed behind the wheel and shut the door in his face. He wouldn’t have another chance to wheedle his way into her good graces. She was done feeding off his meager emotional handouts.
As she drove the short distance to his estate, she gave herself a stern lecture on the necessity of remaining strong. She loved him. She always had and probably always would. That was the Thorne curse. But she didn’t need to like it—or him. And she certainly refused to pine for a man who didn’t appreciate her or her gifts. Summer Thorne was made of sterner stuff.
By the time she’d reached his barn, her resolve was firmly in place.
One look at the staggering mare, and she guessed the problem.
“How long has she been like this?” she asked Knox, who tried to lend support to the horse.
“We found her this way about twenty minutes ago. She was fine this morning.”
Summer grabbed the lead and guided the horse to a prone position.
“We thought it might be colic or founder. We wanted to keep her on her feet.” Coop inserted.
“I understand. But it’s neither.”
A check of her ears, mouth and nose turned up clean. Summer finished the general exam.
“What’s bothering you?”
“I—”
For the third time, she cut Coop off. “I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to the mare. Can you please be quiet so she can answer?”
Both men stood, mouths agape.
“You literally talk to the…”
She glared at Coop.
“I’m going to be quiet now.”
“Thank the Goddess,” she muttered.
“What’s bothering you, pretty lady?” As the mare provided feedback in the only way horses could—images and a soft blow of air—Summer gently pushed aside the forelock and laid her palm flat on the horse’s head just above her eyes. “Mmhmm. Okay. We’re going to get you fixed up. You’ll be right as rain, darling girl. Stay where you are and don’t move.”
Summer rose and faced the men. “She’s got a condition called Vestibular. I don’t see anything with the visual inspection, so I suspect it’s neurological and not brought on by an ear infection. We can run a blood panel, but I’m ninety-nine percent positive.”