by Terry Spear
“We even have one of those fake bear rugs you can pose on,” Thera said.
Brett noticed that everyone in the shop was watching them now. Ah, hell. The word would get around the pack pronto.
“My answer is still no. Sorry, ladies. My modeling days are over.”
Ginger turned to Ellie. “Have you seen our work?” She pulled an envelope from her large bag and handed it to Brett as if he were going to open it up and show off his nude poses. Yes, it was art, but somehow it didn’t seem as much like it when he was trying to court a she-wolf who didn’t know anything about his modeling days.
Everyone waited expectantly. Ellie’s cheeks turned crimson.
Silva dropped off a slice of chocolate cheesecake for Ellie and raspberry-topped cheesecake for Brett, both garnished with candy pumpkins. “I know you have to get back to work, so I wanted to drop this off before you have to leave.” Silva turned to the ladies. “Three for lunch?”
They were still eyeing Brett like he was on the menu. “Nice to see you again, ladies.” And then he turned his attention to Ellie, not waiting for the ladies to say good-bye. He was there with Ellie and wanted only to be with her.
Ellie was poking at her cheesecake, ignoring him and the ladies. The women moved off to the table farthest from them near the kitchen. Brett would have to thank Silva for the rescue later.
“She must have guessed we’d want a slice of her award-winning cheesecake,” Ellie said, sounding like nothing had just happened.
“My brothers are always ordering pies or cheesecake from her. They’re the best.”
“They are.” Ellie poked at her cheesecake some more.
“About the modeling,” Brett said. Ellie eyed the manila envelope on the table. “I’ve said no to modeling ever since I finished my degree.”
She shrugged as if the modeling didn’t matter and poked her fork into her cheesecake again.
If she didn’t want to discuss it, he was fine with that, but he was afraid they needed to get this out in the open. “I didn’t date them, and I didn’t do any private modeling for anyone. It was strictly through the college.”
“How did they know you live here?”
“They wanted to send me prints of how their paintings of me turned out. I said sure, not really thinking about what I’d do with them. They’ve done really well with them, but that has a lot to do with how well they paint.”
Ellie sat back in her chair again. “So…paintings of you, and prints, are all over the place? In your home even?”
“Uh, well, I guess. I don’t know. I mean, really, who would want a painting of a nude guy hanging on the living room wall? I really don’t see how they could sell all that well. And no, I don’t have any hanging up in my home.” He lowered his voice. “I didn’t keep the ones they sent to me. I mean, it seems kind of narcissistic.”
“What are you going to do with those?”
“The same thing I did with the others. I certainly don’t intend to share them, frame them, or keep them tucked away.”
She eyed them again, and he wondered if she was curious to see them. He certainly wasn’t going to offer to show her and risk her being further annoyed with him.
“Listen, Ellie, if you’re upset about this, I understand, and I’m more than willing to talk further to you about it. But I need to get on the road to Green Valley to interview your aunt Charity about her candy store’s anniversary. I’ll be getting back by six. I thought we might have some dinner and then practice our piano lessons a little, if you’d like.”
She hesitated, and he hated that she might be rethinking their relationship.
Then she finally nodded. “I’d like that. What if we have some trouble with your great-aunt’s piano?” Ellie sounded worried that they might and he’d be upset about it. Maybe that was all that bothered her.
Brett reached across the table to take her hand, and he swore every eye in the room was on the two of them. “No problem. We can deal with anything.” He stroked the top of her hand with his thumb.
Ellie blushed.
He knew then that she didn’t mind his attentions. Not even with the other women looking on. The problem was his disapproving great-aunt. He couldn’t wait to see Ellie tonight. But he had to get to Green Valley and return home before the weather turned bad.
He paid for the meal and gave Silva a generous tip. She gave him a big smile back. “If I hadn’t already taken Sam for a mate, I might have considered choosing you.”
He laughed. As if she had ever wanted anyone but Sam.
Silva winked at Ellie, and she blushed again.
“Okay, I’ll call as soon as I get back, and we’ll have dinner,” he said, escorting Ellie out of the tea shop.
“Thanks for lunch, Brett. I look forward to tonight.” She glanced again at the envelope tucked under his arm.
He was certain she was curious about what she would see. Truth be told, so was he. Which was another reason he didn’t want to show them to her. He slipped the envelope into his leather briefcase before he climbed into the car and then drove her home.
When they arrived at Ellie’s house, he kissed her in a way that said he wanted more than just a casual relationship. He didn’t care if her sisters caught them kissing if they happened to glance out the inn windows. He only cared about this moment with Ellie. She wrapped her arms around his neck and was kissing him right back, as if she wanted the same. She was warm and soft, bright and cheerful. No matter what was going on, she always had something nice to say, a positive outlook on life, real kindhearted. She would make the perfect mate.
She was teasing his tongue with hers, their breaths frosty in the chilled air, their bodies pressed tight against each other’s. Despite the bulk of her wool coat and his ski jacket, he still felt her heat pressed against him. He smelled her pheromones telling him she was enjoying this intimacy between them as much as he was, and he loved it.
She finally pulled away from him, looking serious. “You’d better get going, or you won’t have time to get back from Green Valley before the snowstorm hits.”
“Nothing will stop me from getting home in time to have dinner with you. But you’re right. I need to get on the road. About…Halloween. Do you mind if I come over and help you and your sisters hand out drinks or candy?”
“We’d love it.”
He pulled her into his arms for one last serious hug, kissed her mouth and forehead, and then said he’d see her soon.
She smiled, waved at him, then walked on the path to the inn to work. He wondered if she’d tell her sisters about his modeling stints, or if either of them already knew. As close as they were, he suspected that if they had known, they would have told her.
He was over the moon and sure he and Ellie were headed for a mating. As soon as he could, he’d research how to exorcise a ghost, and once he had done it to his satisfaction, he would have a serious talk with Ellie about the direction their relationship was going.
* * *
Even though Ellie was dying to see the paintings of Brett in the nude, there was no way she would ever ask to see them.
This afternoon, she had important business to take care of. She called the newspaper and put in her letter for the Lonely Hearts column. She figured if she was going to date someone, he should be a wolf, if she was going to prove their theory that she and Brett were dream mating. As far as she knew, dream mating never happened between a wolf and a human. No way was she going to leave town to try to hook up with a human. And she’d make it known that she was just dating for fun, nothing serious. Still, she felt awkward about doing this. She wondered if anyone even read the column.
She thought about Brett posing nude for all those art students and sighed, reminding herself it was just art, and he was right. Who would want to have his nude body plastered all over their homes? Sure, she wanted to take a peek, but no way would she want t
o put him on display for everyone else to see.
Then she recalled what the redhead had said—they’d brought a bear rug for him to lie on while they painted him? Now all Ellie could think of was him stretched out nude on a polar bear rug, looking sexy as the devil.
Her sisters had probably been watching her and Brett. They would have heard his car pull up and would have checked to see if he was bringing her home or whether they had some other visitors. So it wasn’t like they would be spying on her. Though she suspected they’d watch to see how far they were taking the relationship. The problem was the whole communing-with-ghosts issue.
She had no intention of telling her sisters that she was going to post a letter in the Lonely Hearts column. They’d probably tell her it was a bad idea. She’d hear about it soon enough.
When she walked into the inn, she half expected her sisters to approach her and want to know more of what was going on between her and Brett. Laurel and Meghan were in the basement, one of them running the noisy vacuum. Maybe they hadn’t heard or seen her come in.
She headed down the stairs, and Meghan spied her first, smiling and turning off the vacuum. “So, anything you want to tell us?”
Laurel came out of one of the bedrooms, a white splotch of paint on her cheek, the paintbrush in hand, with the lid to the paint can held beneath it to catch drips, her brows raised in question.
“About…?” If they hadn’t been watching Ellie with Brett, maybe this was about the ghosts.
Laurel smiled but shook her head. “About Brett, of course. Where is this going between the two of you?”
“You were watching.”
Meghan snorted. “We just checked to see if it was you, and it was. We didn’t expect the steamy scene to play out before us.”
“And you kept watching.”
Meghan smiled. “The show was great.”
“We still want to know if Brett is on board with your abilities, or you’re still keeping it secret from him. You can’t, you know. We were honest with CJ, or at least about the fact we knew Chrissy was haunting the inn. It’s up to you to tell Brett it’s a little more than that with you and Meghan,” Laurel warned.
“I will.” Ellie just had to wait until the time was right. Maybe tonight she could convince Matilda to play the piano, and hopefully Brett could hear her too. If he did, and he believed that ghosts existed, she could tell him how she could commune with them.
“So what’s next on the agenda?” Laurel asked.
Ellie smiled. “I’m going to start decorating for fall. That way, the day after Halloween, we can take the decorations down, and we’ll be all set with the autumn decorations for Victorian Days and Thanksgiving.”
Both her sisters looked exasperated with her. “With Brett,” Laurel said.
Ellie sighed and headed up the stairs to decorate. “Dinner, of course. Piano lessons.”
“On the haunted piano?” Laurel asked.
“Yes.” Ellie turned to look at her sisters. “And if Matilda plays, which I’m going to try to convince her to do, then he’ll know ghosts exist and I can tell him the rest.”
“Good luck with that,” Meghan said, but in a sarcastic way.
“If you need our help with it, let us know,” Laurel said in a way that said she meant it.
“Thanks, Laurel.” Ellie gave Meghan a peeved look and ascended the remaining stairs. She decided she would try to talk to Matilda now, just to prepare her for tonight.
Chapter 7
With every intention of doing a well-thought-out interview, but still making it back in time before the snowstorm really hit, Brett made the drive to Green Valley and stopped in on the MacTire sisters’ aunt, Charity Wernicke, who owned the Candy Shop. He’d nearly walked into the shop with his briefcase when he remembered the darn manila envelope with prints of his nude poses in it, pulled it out, and tossed it in the trash can outside the shop.
The candy store was bright, colorful, and welcoming. The fragrance of chocolate, maple, and other delicious scents wafted in the air. Halloween-decorated candy, jack-o’-lanterns, witches, and black cats decorated the storefront windows.
This would be the perfect place to pick up a fancy autumn-decorated box of chocolates for Ellie for Halloween tomorrow night.
Charity looked like her confections, wearing a pink wool dress, her white hair in a bun, and a big smile on her face as she greeted him, her hand outstretched. He was glad to do this to help her business, especially since he cared about Ellie and her family.
While he interviewed Charity, they sat at a little glass table next to the big windows, where they could see the snow falling fast and furiously. The store was already closed for business so he could interview her in peace, but because of the weather, he imagined the shop would have been devoid of customers anyway.
“You may have to stay the night with me,” Charity offered as they had cups of hot chocolate and pieces of Frankenstein fudge. “My nieces would be mighty upset with me if I let you drive home in this weather and you had any trouble.”
“I have a date with Ellie tonight and don’t want to miss it for anything. Thanks so much.”
“All right. Don’t say I didn’t offer. And don’t let me keep you then. The road isn’t going to get any better. And, Brett, thanks so much for interviewing me for an article on the Candy Shop. When Ellie told me you wanted to do that, I was ecstatic.”
“Anything to help out another wolf,” he said quite seriously.
“And help become part of the family?” Charity asked.
He smiled, then bought Ellie one of the fanciest boxes of assorted chocolates that Charity was selling, sure Ellie would want to share some of the candy with her sisters. Maybe even him.
Charity sighed. “Ellie thinks the world of you, by the way. But the girls are rather special.”
“They see ghosts. I know.”
“It’s not just a hobby for them. It’s a way of life. The only way some male wolf is going to do right by her is if he believes in her abilities one hundred percent.” She came around the counter. “Enough of us talking.” Charity hurried him out the door. “You’ve got to get home safely before Ellie worries too much about you.”
“Do you have their ability?”
“Heavens no. I sense things like they do, but I don’t actually see ghosts.”
He nodded and gave Charity a hug. She seemed pleased that he did. “You take it easy, and I’ll let you know when this comes out in the paper. Probably by the weekend.”
“Thanks again, Brett.”
“You’re most welcome.” Then he headed out into the blowing snow. He realized it was worse than he’d thought when he actually got on the road. But he was certain he’d get home all right. He might have to take it a little slower than usual. Anything to make sure he got home safely.
Two hours later, he’d finally reach a point about ten miles from home when he saw headlights approaching in the blinding snowstorm, headed straight for him. He swore he was on his side of the road, but the piled-up snow made it impossible to see the center line or where the shoulders of the road began and ended. He pulled over a little farther and slowed down even more, but the vehicle, a big 1930s classic Plymouth, continued its deadly approach as if his car wasn’t even there, sideswiping him.
A loud bang sounded as they hit, and metal scraped metal for a few seconds. His heart thundering, Brett twisted the steering wheel, trying to get out of the car’s path but still stay on the road. The tires lost traction on the icy, snowy pavement, and despite him trying to stop it, the vehicle slid off the road.
The car landed in the deep ditch next to the shoulder. Though Brett tried to drive out of the ditch, his vehicle wouldn’t budge. He hated to think about how much damage could have been done to his car.
“Damn it!” Brett climbed out of the car, which was tilting toward the gentle slope downhill, though
it wasn’t going anywhere. He moved around the ground, stumbling over rocks. He glanced back in the direction the car had gone after hitting his vehicle, thinking it might have stopped or slid off the road too. The red taillights continued on their way, never slowing down, the driver never pausing to see if he was all right. Damn hit-and-run driver.
Because of the blowing snow, Brett couldn’t even catch the license plate number, or he would have called it in. Luckily, with his enhanced wolf’s night vision, he would be able to give the description of the car though. Dark steel-gray, old. He wasn’t sure what exact year, but it was from the 1930s, a vintage collectible. Who would be crazy enough to drive a classic car like that in these conditions? Though the heavy old car sure had knocked his lightweight Ford Taurus off the road.
He growled and pulled out his cell phone. And got no reception. Hell. With as bad as the weather was, he was certain the emergency crews would be out trying to rescue people. He didn’t need to add to the mess. He climbed into his backseat, removed his clothes, opened the door, and hurried to get out. He quickly locked the car with the keypad, then shifted.
Warming at once in his thick wolf fur coat as his wolf took over, Brett tore off for Silver Town, hoping he wouldn’t be so late that Ellie would call Darien and send out search parties. In case they did, he stuck close to the road—not on it, but close enough to see if anyone he recognized was out looking for him. He hoped not. He didn’t want anyone searching for him in this weather when others might be in need. He was already an hour and half late returning home by car. Trotting as a wolf would take another two hours in this weather. When he got closer, he’d howl to let anyone who could hear him know that it was him and he was fine.
He just hoped he didn’t find anyone else who had run off the road.
* * *
Ellie quit pacing long enough to call her aunt Charity while Meghan and Laurel looked on, both frowning, as anxious as she was. “Hi, Aunt Charity?”