The Trouble With Witches

by Kristen Painter

  Em had already had it drilled into her that asking was rude. If people wanted you to know, they told you.

  If she was going to fit in here, she had to abide by that.

  And besides, Gracie would share when she was ready. Em felt certain of that. They were destined to become good friends. It was inevitable, really. Especially if she and Deacon kept going in the direction they were headed.

  Which wasn’t something she was going to spend hours thinking about. Whatever was going to happen…she was just going to let it. Easy was good. And that’s what she wanted out of her new life. Easy. Low stress. No drama.

  Even if Shadowvale was sort of all about drama, it was also the kind of place where being yourself was okay. No explanations, no excuses, just abide.

  That part appealed to her immensely. Still wasn’t going to make her suddenly start sharing her unfortunate past with everyone, though.

  As far as Em was concerned, her history was just that—history. As gone as her mother was locked up.

  Putting all that behind her was the only way she could move forward.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Deacon said.

  She smiled. “Sorry. Just thinking about how much I like it here.”

  He nodded. “I’m glad you feel that way, but it’s okay if you change your mind about this place, too, you know. Someday, I mean. Not now.” He shrugged. “I just mean…”

  “That if I ever want to leave, you won’t fault me for it.”

  “Right. That.” His mouth thinned for a moment, then he took a breath. “And when or if that day comes that you want to leave, I’m open to discussing it. Just so you know.”

  She studied him for a few seconds. “You really don’t like it here, do you?”

  “I like it more lately.” He glanced at her, smiling. “But for the most part, I’d like to get free of here. Like to get Gracie out, too, but that’s a tougher job to accomplish.”

  “Because of her curse?” Em held her hands up. “I’m not asking what it is, just assuming that’s what makes it hard for her to leave.”

  He nodded. “At least here, people know to give her space. In the outside world, that won’t be the case. We’d both need to be cured before we can go, but her especially. Hers is worse than mine, for sure. Your aunt said…”

  “Said what?”

  He shook his head, smiling again. This time, it looked a little forced. “Never mind. Let’s not focus on all that today. We have a party to throw. And a ton of work to do.”

  As much as Em wanted to know what Amelia had said, she let it go and changed the subject. “You think Bishop will actually get anything done while we’re gone?”

  Deacon pulled into the Green Grocer’s parking lot and found a spot. “I have my doubts.” He put the truck in park and looked at her. “Which is why we need to get back as soon as we can. I love my brother, but when it comes to anything outside his own business or women, he sometimes lacks motivation.”

  “Even where Gracie is concerned?”

  “No, not so much with her, but the thing is, he knows we’re coming back to help. So why put in too much effort until we’re there to pitch in?” Deacon raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t mean to make it sound like he’s lazy, but Bishop has definitely had an easier path in life than the rest of us. Things just seem to fall into his lap sometimes.”

  “Some people are like that.”

  They got out and went into the store. Deacon grabbed a shopping cart.

  “Deli?” Em asked.

  He nodded. “Yep. Then frozen foods for ice cream.”

  Em looked around. It was one of the nicest grocery stores she’d been in, but then, she was learning fast that Shadowvale didn’t skimp on providing its citizens with the best of things. “You already have paper goods, then?”

  Deacon slowed a little. “Paper goods?”

  “Plates, cups, napkins, utensils. You have how many people coming?”

  “At least eighty. And I see where you’re going. We don’t have enough for that many.”

  “Then we need a trip down whatever aisle stocks party supplies, too.”

  He rubbed his forehead. “I am so glad you showed up.”

  She grinned. “And I’m so glad you think that. Also happy to help.”

  Forty-five minutes later, they had everything they needed, and possibly more, which seemed to be what Deacon was aiming for. He’d said twice that he’d rather be oversupplied than run out of something.

  Next stop was Black Horse for the cake.

  As they were walking toward the bakery, Em turned to Deacon. “How big of a cake is this if it’s going to feed eighty people?”

  “It’s just a standard cake, but then I ordered a sheet cake in the same flavors. That way, Gracie has a pretty cake and a practical cake.”

  “You thought of that, and yet you were just going to serve chips?”

  He held the door for her. “Yeah, no. Nasha suggested that.”

  She paused, putting a hand on his chest and pretending like getting to touch him had anything to do with the conversation they were having. “I like how you listen to women. That’s a very attractive quality in a man.”

  He smiled, looking very pleased with her compliment. “I do what I can.”

  Em went up to the counter. “We’re here to pick up the cake for Gracie Evermore. Cakes, I guess I should say.”

  “Hey, Em.” Brighton, one of the other employees, nodded. “They’re on the racks ready to go. I’ll go get them.”

  “Why don’t you let me help?” Deacon said. “I know there’s two.”

  “Sure,” Brighton said. “Come on back.”

  Em hooked her thumb toward the street. “I’ll get the door for you guys.”

  A couple minutes later, everything was loaded up. That put the cab of the truck almost at capacity. Several bags were already in the bed.

  Deacon got them headed for home. “Bishop better have done something.”

  “Don’t worry,” Em said. “We’ll get it all taken care of. I’ll put all the food away if you like.”

  “That would be great.”

  She looked into the back seat. “There’s no way all of this is going to fit in your fridge, is there?”

  “No, but we have a second one in the garage, and it’s mostly empty. That should take care of it.”

  “Okay, good.”

  By the time they pulled into the driveway, they had a game plan. Deacon would light a fire under Bishop, as needed, and then the two of them would get to work decorating the deck and backyard. Em would take care of the food and setting up the dining room table for the buffet area, then she’d join them to finish decorating the inside of the house.

  If all went well, Gracie would be totally surprised.

  * * *

  They got everything into the house and got to work. The next few hours passed in a whirlwind. Shep texted every so often to let them know Gracie was still stuck on his computer problems and showed no signs of giving up.

  At last, there wasn’t much left to be done except get themselves ready and greet the guests who would be arriving shortly.

  The three of them went to change.

  Deacon and Bishop made it back downstairs and into the kitchen, but Em wasn’t out yet, so Deacon guessed she was still in the guest room getting ready.

  Bishop adjusted his tie. “Is it supposed to be this tight? It feels like it’s choking me.”

  “That’s what ties do.”

  “Let’s ditch them.” Bishop nodded like he was trying to persuade Deacon what a good idea that was.

  Deacon didn’t need persuading. “I guess. But if Gracie wants them on for the picture—”

  “We’ll put them back on.” Bishop already had his undone.

  Deacon started loosening his, too.

  The soft click-clack of heels came down the hall.

  While Deacon was still working on his tie, Bishop let out a low whistle that was half human, half raven, a sure sign he’d spotted somet
hing noteworthy.

  “Don’t you both look nice?”

  Deacon turned at the sound of Em’s voice. His fingers fell away from the knot of silk at his throat as his jaw went south.

  She’d piled her hair up on top of her head, exposing the slim column of her neck and, thanks to her body-hugging dress, the strong lines of one shoulder as well. A few tendrils of hair had escaped—on purpose or not, he had no idea—but they added a casualness to her look that made her seem very approachable. Very girl-next-door-who-just-happens-to-be-stunning.

  And heart-stoppingly sexy.

  Until now, he’d never realized how tantalizing a glimpse of a woman’s collarbone could be. He swallowed, finding his voice. “Bishop, go check the front door for guests.”

  “There’s no one at—”

  “Go. Now.” Deacon couldn’t take his eyes off Em. He needed a moment alone with her.

  “Fine.” With a sigh, Bishop trudged off.

  Deacon held his hands out to Em. “You look amazing. You’re the most beautiful woman, witch or otherwise, I’ve ever seen.”

  She smiled and took his hands. “Thank you very much. I feel pretty. And by the way, you look pretty hot yourself.”

  He pulled her closer. “I know this is Gracie’s night, but I’m going to have a hard time paying attention to anyone but you.”

  She slipped one hand free to rest it on his chest. “You’re making me blush.”

  He softly kissed the tip of her nose. “Thank you for helping with all this, but more than that, thanks for not being put off by me. I know when we first met, I was…”

  “Grumpy?” She laughed. “It’s okay. I don’t mind that side of you. You haven’t seen me at my worst yet either, so don’t fall in love just yet.”

  “Might be too late.” The words were out before he could stop them, but he didn’t care. They’d agreed to be honest with each other. That was about as honest as he could get.

  Her eyes widened, and she let out a soft gasp. “Deacon.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything. In fact, I don’t expect you to. But you deserve to know that I haven’t been this happy, or this content, in a long time.”

  She smiled. “Me either.”

  Then she leaned in and kissed him on the mouth.

  The doorbell chimed, breaking them apart.

  They both laughed. She brushed her thumb across his bottom lip. “Lipstick,” she said.

  “That’s okay. I don’t mind being a marked man.” He tipped his head toward the front of the house and the sound of Bishop greeting people. “Come on, let’s get this party started.”

  She gave him an appraising look. “As far as I’m concerned, it already has.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Em stood by the gift table she’d decorated with pink crepe paper ribbon and silver paper stars, just taking a quick breather and admiring the festivities. The party had been in full swing for about two hours now.

  Gracie had been well and truly surprised. She’d quickly run upstairs and changed into more celebratory attire, then had joined the mob and hadn’t stopped smiling since.

  Neither had Em, really.

  She’d never been to a party like this. Between relocating constantly and her mother’s con games, the only parties Em had gone to were typically orchestrated by Manda to set up a mark.

  But this? This was a real party. With real people. And the only goal was to have a good time.

  Which was happening in abundance. The big deck off the back of the house had become an impromptu dance floor, and all over the house people were clustered in groups having lively conversations. And Gracie, the party princess in her tiara (supplied by her brothers, along with a matching one for Tinkerbelle), held court in the main living room, with Tinkerbelle on her lap and surrounded by friends.

  Em’s cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling and talking to so many people. She’d never remember all their names, but she was working on it. Some she already knew, which was really cool.

  Not just a real party, but a party where she knew people. Sure, one of them was her aunt, who’d shown up briefly in a gorgeous ivory caftan and matching turban with Em’s tiger brooch proudly displayed on the knot.

  Thankfully, she’d left the actual tiger at home.

  And Stella, who’d worn a strapless leopard-print jumpsuit and gold heels, revealing a figure that seemed to defy her years.

  But then, this was Shadowvale. And nothing was really that odd anymore.

  Really, though, the best part of the party was how Deacon kept finding her to check in and see how she was doing. And sneak a kiss.

  She smiled even as she noted the ice bucket needed refilling.

  How quickly things had fallen into place here. How easily she’d begun this new life. It was, hands down, the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  She closed her eyes for a second and took a breath, letting the upswell of gratitude wash over her.

  When she opened her eyes, the ice bucket really needed refilling. She scooped it up and headed for the garage fridge where Shep had stored the extra bags of ice.

  She filled the bucket, then headed back in.

  As she turned down the hall from the garage, she ran smack into Gracie, knocking her down and sending a spray of ice cubes into the air. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. Are you all right?”

  Gracie was on her butt and elbows, her tiara now sideways. “It-it’s okay. I’m…fine. I was just going to see if there was another bottle of champagne in the garage fridge.”

  “There is, but I’ll get it. And I’ll clean this ice up. You go enjoy yourself. You’re not supposed to be working. You’re the guest of honor.” But something was wrong. Gracie looked like she’d been punched in the gut. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded unconvincingly. “Just, uh, had the breath knocked out of me.” Then her mouth bent in a weak smile. “I’m good.”

  She started to get to her feet. Em shifted the ice bucket to the other side and offered Gracie a hand up.

  Gracie didn’t take it, just got up on her own. “I’m good,” she repeated. Then she cleared her throat. “Thanks for all the help you gave the boys. I know you did a lot of this. That was very kind of you.”

  “I was happy to do it.”

  Gracie held on to her odd smile and backed away. “Well, thanks again. See you, uh, in there.”

  “Right. Gotta grab that champagne.” Em stood there as Gracie disappeared, not entirely sure what had happened. Maybe she’d hit Gracie harder than she’d realized, but Gracie didn’t want to let on. Em felt awful. She hadn’t meant to run into her. Gracie had to know that.

  She’d have to check with Deacon and make sure Gracie was all right.

  She replaced the ice bucket, then got a towel from the kitchen and gathered up the loose ice, making sure there were no wet spots on the floor. Couldn’t have anyone else falling because of a puddle.

  She tossed the ice in the laundry room sink, left the wet towel on the washer, and went back to the garage for the champagne. She put the bottle into the cooler at the drink station and realized she hadn’t seen Deacon in a little bit. He must be outside.

  She did a quick spin through the house and the backyard and found no sign of him.

  Oddly, no sign of Gracie either.

  A small knot formed in Em’s stomach, a feeling that something bad was happening, but she didn’t know what it could be. Just that when she felt like this, there was always a reason to listen.

  Always. The last time she’d felt like this, the police had shown up that evening to take her mother away.

  * * *

  Deacon couldn’t imagine what was going on. “You’re having a good time?”

  Gracie nodded as she shut her office door. “Great time. Or at least I was until…”

  Her hands twisted together.

  “Until what?” Deacon asked. “What’s wrong?”

  Gracie sighed, her gaze dropping. “Some
one touched me.”

  He sucked in a breath. “Long enough to—”

  “Yes.”

  She still hadn’t made eye contact again. That worried him. “Was it bad?”

  She nodded.

  He cursed, but in his head only. No need to upset Gracie further. “You going to be okay? I can send everyone home if you want.”

  “No.” But the word was an unpersuasive whisper.

  “How about I get Tink and you just hang out here for a while? I’ll bring you some cake and ice cream.”

  She shook her head, finally lifting it to look at him. Her gaze seemed haunted, but then, it usually did when her curse had kicked in. “Don’t go.”

  “Okay, I’ll stay here with you.” Whatever Gracie needed, he’d provide. Her curse might not be physically debilitating like some others, but it could be worse in some ways.

  That was why he had to find a way to cure her and free her from this burden. No one should have to know another person’s deepest, darkest secrets. Especially not his tender-hearted little sister.

  A tear slipped down Gracie’s cheek. “I think…I should tell you—”

  “I thought you decided that was a bad idea. That it was an invasion of privacy for you to share what you found out. I mean, is it really bad? Like, do I need to detain someone?”

  “Not bad like that, but…” She wiped at the tear, looking away again. “Deac, it was Emeranth. She didn’t mean to touch me. In fact, I’m not sure she even realized she did. We just ran into each other in the garage hall.”

  She let out a deep, shuddering sigh. “I’ve been pushing you toward her, and I know you’ve gotten friendly with her so…I feel like I should tell you what I found out. Do you want to know?”

  He couldn’t answer immediately. Couldn’t find the words. If Gracie thought he should know, he probably should. But was that betraying Em? It wasn’t her fault that Gracie’s curse meant that with a single touch, she could tell what darkness hid in a person’s heart.

  But he had feelings for Em already. Feelings that could very well translate into a future. How could he move forward knowing that whatever Gracie had found out had upset her this much?

  He put his hand over his mouth for a second, weighing his options. “I want to know. But I don’t want to know.”