Writing Wrongs: Crow’s Feet Coven, Book One

by Gael, Christine

  I gave her what I hoped was a cheerful smile, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just some spiders in my fingers this morning. Kinda like ants in your pants. Restless, is all.”

  “Uh huh.” She was not convinced in the slightest. “Have you gotten the results from your MRI yet? With Mee-maw being in the hospital, I forgot to ask.”

  “Oh, not…I’m sure it’s all fine. Just waiting to hear, still.” I could feel my face starting to heat up at the lie. That had never exactly been my strong suit, and Zoe had always been able to see through it. She was scarily intuitive that way.

  Zoe’s eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth, probably to start really grilling me. If my cousin decided to put the pressure on, then the whole story would probably come spilling out. And then I’d be in serious trouble for not confiding in her.

  A sharp knock at the front door broke the tense moment. Zoe glanced over and heaved an annoyed sigh, rolling her eyes.

  I peered around her and echoed the sigh, diving back into my dough with a vengeance. Just great. I got to see Phil, Zoe’s husband. Always my favorite way to start the day.

  Zoe wiped her hands, meandering to the door and flipping the lock. Her husband of too many years stepped in, looking decidedly uncomfortable as he cast a glance around the bakery.

  Phil had never been a huge fan of the bakery. He’d never said as much, but it was clear exactly how he felt about his estranged wife’s career choices. Not that he could stop Zoe once she set her mind to something—Mee-maw was one of the few people who could lay claim to that high honor.

  Without even as much as a hello or a how do you do, Phil awkwardly held out a large envelope, clearing his throat.

  “Would you drop this off at the post office this afternoon? I forgot to swing it by last night and if I wait around for them to open, I’ll miss my flight.”

  Phil did a lot of traveling for his job. To be honest, I wasn’t even really sure what he did, and had never cared enough to ask. Something to do with investing.

  Yeah, I didn’t spend a whole lot of time around my cousin-in-law. We’d never quite seen eye to eye. For starters, Phil was always trying to bring Zoe down and smother the sheer awesomeness that was her. I was just glad that she’d put her foot down and kept doing her own thing, with or without his approval.

  Zoe quirked a brow slightly and took the envelope, smiling politely. “Sure, I can do that.”

  I didn’t even have to look at the two of them to feel the cool tension in the room. More like business colleagues than spouses. And not even colleagues that you enjoyed spending time with, more like those obnoxious co-workers who always snake the last of the coffee and don’t start a new pot.

  Phil nodded once, pointedly glancing at the clock. “I need to run.”

  “Have a good trip.” Zoe turned, snagging a croissant and a napkin to push on him as he turned for the door. He took if from her without thanks.

  Jerk.

  He liked to think that the world revolved around him, which was why he didn’t bother even considering the fact that, after waking up at four AM to start her day baking a zillion delicious treats, working twelve hours straight with barely enough time to breathe let alone sit down and eat, Zoe would then have to rush to the post office and hope she got there in time to mail his stupid letter.

  Nope, Phil didn’t give a rat’s crack about anyone but himself.

  I could feel my blood pressure rising by the second. As the door jingled closed behind him, I turned to face Zoe, ready to launch into a tirade against her husband.

  She sighed and held up a hand, a weary look etched on her face. “I know, I know. He’s a complete asshat. You don’t need to even say it.”

  I rolled my eyes, miming zipping my lips shut, locking them and throwing away the key.

  Zoe chuckled and shook her head, but there wasn’t much mirth in her. “You have your kids, Crick. Someone who will love you and be there for you when you get old. I’m on the downward slide to 50, and Phil’s all I’ve got.”

  And still, she deserved better. Not that I had much room to talk, of course. I stuck things out with Greg for way longer than was healthy.

  She sighed, turning her head slightly to survey the sea of mouth-watering pastries. “I know it doesn’t seem like much, but it’s still more than a lot of people get. He hasn’t left me for his secretary yet. You know, not all of us get lucky enough to have two smoking hot guys fawning all over them!”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but shut it just as quickly. We were rapidly approaching one of the famous Zoe Babble Sessions. My cousin could talk a person to death when she really got on a roll, and right now, it was better to have her talking than asking me questions.

  She grabbed one of the industrial-sized bowls filled with yeasty sweet dough, flopping it out on a counter, tossing a handful of flour on top, and attacking it. Her hands moved quickly as she talked, ripping off precise amounts of dough and expertly twisting them.

  “He’s not all that bad, you know. A lot better than most guys. He usually preps the coffeepot for me when he goes to bed, as long as it’s not poker night or lodge night. And he almost never leaves the toilet seat up. And he’s gotten really good about putting his dirty underwear in the hamper. He almost never forgets my birthday or our anniversary…”

  I rolled my eyes, letting out a low whistle and pulling out my phone, holding up a finger as I pretended to dial a number.

  “Who are you calling?” she asked with a frown.

  “The Nobel Foundation to see if we can’t get Phil an award for his great contributions to woman-kind.”

  Zoe let out a howl of laughter, shaking her head with a smirk.

  “Brat.” She leaned over, snagging a perfect pillowy croissant, launching it directly at my head.

  I snatched it from the air, tearing into it with a happy sigh.

  There were few things better in this world than fresh homemade pastry. It was a miracle that I hadn’t gained about 800 pounds since coming home.

  “If you think throwing delicious baked goods is the way to put me in my place, you’re sadly mistaken,” I mumbled around the buttery bite.

  She smiled at me fondly and rolled her eyes. “Get back to work. We open in 20, and we haven’t even started loading the case.”

  Ah, yes. That part of the day that was less magical and more obnoxiously busy. On the plus side, at least Zoe was suitably distracted from grilling me about my medical woes, so I’d gained at least a brief reprieve. But knowing Zoe, that wasn’t something she would let go of easily. Eventually, I’d have to spill my guts and face the consequences.

  The morning rush passed in a haze of cinnamon buns, scones, and gallons of coffee, and didn’t leave much space for talking. I couldn’t complain too much, though; at least it offered a nice distraction from the itching in my fingers and the words dancing in the back of my brain. It was like I could feel the story there, just waiting to jump out, but I needed the magic typewriter to really make it happen.

  I snagged a tray of grab-n-go lunch offerings, turning to carefully slide them into the display case. Our lunch rush wasn’t nearly as hectic as the morning, but we had a lot of people who stopped in for something to go. Zoe had always been more focused on the sweet delicacies, but we had salads and sandwiches and a different soup every day.

  Today’s offering was Broccoli Cheese, and I couldn’t stop drooling over it.

  The bell above the door jangled, and I jerked my head up, customer service smile on my face as I prepared to joyfully welcome our next customer.

  But I was definitely not prepared to see Patrick step confidently through the door, his warm eyes finding mine immediately. My stomach did that annoying little flutter thing as I got a good look at him.

  Low slung faded jeans, a threadbare Pink Floyd t-shirt, and his faded tool belt cinched around his hips. Oof. Double oof. Patrick practically screamed, ‘I’m a confident, capable, virile man!’ and I had absolutely no complaints at all.

&n
bsp; “Hey! How are you?”

  Zoe shot me a look from across the bakery, an eyebrow climbing as she continued to restock the coffee cart. The perfect place for her to not-so-discreetly spy on me.

  “I’m great. How are you, Crick? How is your Mee-maw?” His warm, friendly voice felt like being wrapped up in a big blanket. Everything seemed just a little bit better when he was around.

  I finished loading the case, setting the tray to the side and leaning up against the counter with a smile. “Still stubborn, still kicking. I’ve got a feeling that woman is going to outlive all of us.”

  He laughed smoothly, his eyes flashing as he focused on me.

  Wait, was he checking me out? In all my be-aproned, floured glory?

  Yes, yes he was. Nothing like a good ego boost in the morning.

  Patrick grinned as he leaned against the counter opposite me. “I had a great time at lunch the other day. Would you like to go do something with me later this week?”

  Zoe’s head popped up from the kiosk again as she glared at me accusingly. Oops. Apparently, I forgot to give her the rundown on my lunch with Patrick. Though, in my defense, I still wasn’t entirely convinced that it was a date and not just a friendly lunch.

  I ignored Zoe, smiling up at Patrick, feeling my cheeks start to heat ever so slightly. “I’d like that.”

  The bell above the door jingled again, but I was too busy ogling Patrick to see who it was.

  His eyes glimmered. “Excellent. I can’t wait to spend more time with you. Maybe we can check out that new steakhouse on Market Street? I’ve heard great things, but I haven’t had a chance to visit yet…”

  A male voice clearing his throat knocked me out of my hormone-driven daze and

  I glanced up to see Ethan standing a few feet away.

  My cheeks burned and I tried not to fidget under the weight of his gaze.

  It certainly didn’t help that Ethan looked almost as delectable as Patrick, but in the complete different, but no less compelling, way. With his perfectly tailored suit and dress shirt opened at the throat, he looked like he could have stepped off the cover of GQ.

  “Hey, Ethan!” I really hoped neither of the guys could hear the anxious awkwardness in my voice. “So good to see you.”

  Ethan gave me a warm smile, his eyes lingering on me for a moment. “Morning, Cricket. How are you? How’s Mee-maw feeling?”

  His eyes cut to Patrick, a brow lifting just slightly. From the set of his shoulders and jaw, I could tell that Ethan wasn’t terribly thrilled to see another man chatting me up.

  I looked back at Patrick and his dimple popped knowingly before he turned and gave Ethan a brief, friendly nod of greeting. If he was intimidated by the new male presence, he sure wasn’t showing it.

  “I’ll get out of your hair and let you two talk. I’ll see you later, Crick, all right?”

  Back by the coffee kiosk, Zoe looked like she was about to choke on a frog as she tried not to cackle at my discomfort.

  “Um, yep. That sounds great, Patrick. Talk to you soon!”

  He gave me another warm, lingering smile before turning and making his exit from the bakery. In most guys, that would probably look like a retreat, but Patrick was definitely not lacking for confidence. He was utterly unimpressed by Ethan and didn’t seem threatened by his presence in the least.

  Ethan’s shoulders eased as the door jingled closed behind Patrick, his warm brown eyes meeting mine. He smiled broadly. “So, how are things at home? Is Mee-maw driving you crazy yet?”

  Happy the awkward moment had passed and that we were on familiar ground, I grinned, shaking my head. “You know it. Nothing keeps her down.”

  He chuckled smoothly. “I’m glad to hear it. Now that she’s feeling better, we should catch up sometime.”

  My fingers started itching again. It had faded for a while there, when I’d been too busy being awkward with both men in the bakery at the same time, but now the obnoxious sensation was back with a vengeance. As much as I felt the urge to write, I refused to sit down in front of the typewriter until I knew more. Until then, I could use a good distraction.

  And Ethan was nothing if not a good distraction.

  “Yeah, that would be great. I’d really like that.”

  Ethan grinned, a mischievous look flashing in his eyes. “How about we grab a bite to eat when your shift ends?”

  “Sounds perfect!” Zoe popped up at Ethan’s shoulder like a Jack in the box, grinning brightly up at him. “Hey, Ethan.” She glanced at me. “Crick, I forgot to tell you that I’m going to schlep Mee-maw over to my place tonight for dinner and cards. Get her out of the house for a little while. So you’ll have to fend for yourself anyway.”

  My imp of a cousin tossed me a wink and a grin. Slick, Zoe. Real slick.

  Ethan clearly picked up on Zoe’s not so subtle matchmaking, and one corner of his mouth kicked up as his eyes fixed on me in a challenge. “So, what do you say? I’ll pick you up here around 5?”

  Ignoring the itch in my fingers and the twinge of guilt in my chest, I nodded. “I can’t wait.”

  So, I was kinda sorta dating two guys at the same time. Big deal. In the scheme of the strangeness that had become my life lately, it wasn’t even a blip on the radar. If and when one of those burgeoning friendships became something more, I’d be open and honest.

  Right. Like you’ve been with all the people in your life lately.

  I shoved that annoying little voice inside my head aside and focused on the other one. The one that was saying what I wanted to hear.

  This is your time, Cricket. The magic you’ve always wanted is all around you. Don’t squander it.

  “I won’t,” I whispered under my breath. “I won’t.”

  Chapter 13

  “So, tell me, Cricket. Are you a risky sushi eater or what?” Ethan peered at me from across the high-top lacquered table, his eyes dancing.

  I’m not sure what universe he was from if he thought the best sushi place in the state, two towns over from Rocky Knoll, constituted a “quick bite”. Heck, if I had any idea he was going to be bringing me out to The Dragon & Eel, I would have begged Zoe to let me run home and grab something just a tad bit more appropriate for the upscale restaurant.

  Well, upscale was relative, I imagined. In our neck of the woods, anything that wasn’t served fried in a basket was considered pretty nice. This was the kind of place with a menu that listed the year a particular sake was made next to it, instead of the price, and had a maître d’ instead of a host or hostess. With my flour-dusted jeans and faded t-shirt, I stuck out like a sore thumb. It made me want to crawl under the table. I hated sticking out in a crowd like that, especially if it was unintentional.

  I chuckled, peering at the menu filled with mostly unfamiliar fare. “Usually, I play it pretty safe when it comes to sushi. But I’m feeling adventurous today.”

  He nodded, his eyebrow raised in challenge. “Excellent. Maybe we should get a variety of rolls and we can share them. See what kind of wild sushi you like best.”

  I folded the menu shut and grinned. “Perfect. You order whatever sounds good, and I’ll give it all a try.”

  Since Greg “hated” pretty much all seafood, despite never having tried it, that meant sushi was off the table for our biannual date nights. Oh, he would have gone if I’d asked, but he would have been miserable the whole time. Which would have involved lots of sighing and grumbling over not having anything he could eat. Yeah, it wasn’t worth it.

  After our order was placed, Ethan poured us both a small cup of sake, smiling warmly. “So, how have you been, Cricket? How is Rocky Knoll treating you this time around?”

  I took a sip of the sweet drink, taking a moment to consider my answer. Unlike Patrick, I wasn’t entirely sure I could tell Ethan about any of the insanity surrounding me at the moment. He’d always been a fairly practical guy, and I couldn’t imagine him believing a word of it. Plus, this meal was supposed to be a distraction from my magic typewriter, not a
chance to talk about it.

  Luckily, there were other things to talk about.

  “All in all, it’s pretty good. It’s been a bit of a challenge living with Mee-maw again, but we’ve settled in for the most part. And working at the bakery has been good. Zoe and I get along well and we like each other’s company. I missed her when I left Rocky Knoll and didn’t get to see her every day.” I took a deep breath and another sip, shaking my head with a smile. “Honestly, as frustrating as it can be at times, it’s been pretty nice being back. Familiar people and places, you know how it is.”

  He smiled faintly and nodded. “Oh, I completely get that feeling. It can be hard in some ways, but home is home.”

  With a sudden feeling of guilt, I realized that I hadn’t really spent much time asking Ethan what was going on in his life. I’d been too wrapped up in my own magically induced drama to even push Zoe for the gossip.

  “What about you? What brought you back here?” At the class reunion, he’d been happily ensconced in New York City. Seeing him back in town was kind of a surprise.

  An odd look passed over his face for a moment, and he shook his head with a brief smile. “Oh, you know how it goes. I still keep a place in the city for work, but the past few years, I’ve started to realize that roots and family are the foundation for everything. I never saw it that way in my twenties and thirties. Funny how being a few years closer to death makes us realize that success isn’t just about money or winning,” he added with a smirk.

  I could tell that there was a lot more to it than he was telling me, but he clearly didn’t want to elaborate on the baggage he was hauling around. Fine by me. I could hardly judge him on that, since I was keeping some pretty major secrets myself. Plus, whatever had triggered his epiphany, it seemed like a good one.

  “Well, it’s good to see you again. Ten years is a long time.” I gave him a warm smile, steering the discussion away from a topic that clearly set him on edge.

  His eyes raked over me and a hungry look washed over his face.