Writing Wrongs: Crow’s Feet Coven, Book One

by Gael, Christine

  I shimmied into the dress and turned to face the mirror again, gasping in surprise.

  "Well, I'll be..."

  Zoe let out a low, wolf-whistle. "You certainly will. Wow, Crick, you look like a stone-cold fox."

  "If you really want to get his motor revving, maybe pull up the hem a little higher," Mee-maw added.

  My cheeks burned as I studied my reflection. It really did look nice. Because of the stretch in the fabric, the chest area fit just fine, and the material skimmed over my curves like a dream.

  "Pair of nude heels, and you're ready for action," Zoe observed with a satisfied nod.

  "And a toe ring. She's gotta wear a toe ring,” Mee-maw piped in. “I saw Muriel Ozack at the Walmart a few weeks ago and she was wearing one. It didn’t look so hot, what with her missing a couple toes and the ones she does have being crooked, but I got a good eye for cool trends and such. Toe ring, for sure.”

  Given that Mee-maw was currently decked out in a denim shirt covered in applique roosters, paired with elastic-waist chinos and brown orthotics, I wasn’t sold on her claim to cutting-edge fashion sense, but I was too pleased with my new dress to argue.

  “You start on your makeup, I’ll do your hair,” Zoe suggested, clearly tickled at the idea of dressing me up like one of our Barbies from childhood.

  “Okay, but remember, we want to distract Ethan so I can get a look at his phone and maybe do some light spying, but we don’t want him falling in love with me or anything like that. I don’t want to look too hot.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” Mee-maw said with a snort.

  No chance of getting a big head in this family, that was for sure.

  Over the next thirty minutes, the three of us went into full beauty squad mode. I had to admit, it felt kind of nice all being together with a common goal that didn’t involve forcing beer koozies and potholders on unsuspecting townsfolk.

  I was just slipping a pair of gold hoops through my earring holes when the doorbell rang.

  “I thought you were driving over to his house, just in case you needed to make a quick exit?” Zoe asked, frowning.

  “I am,” I replied, heading down the hallway to the front door.

  I peered through the peephole and my heart sank to my feet as I gazed into the chiseled, delectable face of one Patrick Byrne.

  “Oh, boy,” I muttered.

  “What? Who is it?” Zoe demanded in a hushed whisper. “Is it Connie? I’ve been driving by the shop every time I get a chance and haven’t seen any signs that she’s back--”

  “Not Connie. Patrick.”

  “Sexy McSexyface himself?” she asked, eyes wide. “This should be interesting.”

  That wasn’t the word I’d have used, but whatever. I smoothed a hand down the front of my borrowed dress and pasted a smile on my face. Then, calling on as much chill as I could manage, I opened the door.

  “Patrick! Hi! What a nice surprise.”

  His smile faded as he stared down at me, and his eyes went dark with something lusty that sent a shiver over me.

  “Cricket. Damn…you look amazing. Where are you g--” He broke off and let out a sound that could only be described as a growl as his lips tipped into a sheepish grin. “Sorry. That is none of my business. In any case, you look amazing,” he finished, letting his gaze rake me from head to toe once more.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, shifting from one foot to the other, not sure what to say. Did I answer his unfinished question and tell him that I was going to dinner with an old friend, or would that only make the situation more uncomfortable for us both?

  “Anyway, I hope it’s okay that I stopped by. I just wanted to drop off a book I picked up.” He held up the paperback for my inspection. “Remember how we were talking about karma and you mentioned déjà vu?”

  I nodded as he handed it to me.

  “This goes into all sorts of theories on how that happens. It’s actually fascinating, and I thought you might like it.”

  Here I was, spying on him behind his back and prepping to seduce another man for information, and here he was, being all sweet and thoughtful and delectable.

  Rats.

  Guilt pricked me hard and I had to swallow the lump in my throat. When I’d been at my lowest point, terrified and unsure of what to do, Patrick had gone to drink with me, no questions asked, and had quickly become a friend to lean on. And this is how I repaid him?

  “I’m going on a date,” I blurted.

  He drew back, a muscle ticking in his jaw, but an instant later, he nodded.

  “Okay. I appreciate your honesty. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. I’d hoped you were feeling what I’ve been feeling when we talked about going out again.”

  “I was. I am,” I corrected with a groan. “It’s complicated. Look, there is just a lot of weird changes going on in my life right now, so I can’t really commit to a relationship, but I like you. I like being with you. Do you think we can still see each other without labeling it, right now?”

  Geez, who was I, Carrie Bradshaw? I half expected him to laugh in my face, but he didn’t.

  In fact, he nodded.

  “I can do that. Right now. But I’ll warn you, Cricket,” he added, his voice dropping low and husky, “if I fall in love with you, and you want to be with me, I won’t share. It will be you and me. That’s it.”

  My knees went weak, but before I could reply, I heard a dreamy sigh from behind me and closed the door almost completely.

  “Um, okay. I mean, yes, if we say we’re going to be”—boyfriend and girlfriend sounded ludicrous—"…exclusive, then it’s just you and me. Of course. I just need a little time.”

  “Then you shall have it.” His green eyes swept over me one more time and I leaned against the door for support. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, Cricket.”

  With that, he strode down the walkway toward his car, leaving me mooning after him like a horny teenager.

  “Whew, that one is something, isn’t he?” Zoe asked as I stepped back into the house.

  “He sure is.”

  Sweet, funny, sexy. I truly did like him a lot.

  Which would make it so much harder if he wasn’t what he seemed.

  Please, God, let him be who he seemed to be…

  Chapter 19

  I smoothed the hem of the cream-colored dress for the hundredth time as I walked up the drive to Ethan’s front door, feeling unsteady but undeniably attractive in Zoe’s borrowed clothes.

  When was the last time I had felt anything other than plain and vaguely frumpy? I couldn’t deny that it was a nice feeling.

  “Not the point of tonight, Crick,” I mumbled under my breath.

  I reminded myself that I had come here to do a job, but if I was being honest, I was still struggling with the ethicality of what I was about to do. I’d never been the type to play with men’s emotions…or anyone else’s for that matter. All I could do now was hope I wouldn’t lose my nerve, and hope that Ethan was clean.

  Ethan’s house was a massive, colonial-style two story in one of Rocky Knoll’s more affluent neighborhoods. With a sprawling backyard, cobblestone walkway, and two-car garage, it was the kind of property that would probably go for millions of dollars nowadays, a holdover from another era that had been passed down through multiple generations of Morriseys.

  Multiple generations of witch hunters, perhaps?

  No, I told myself as I stopped on the front porch. Don’t go there, or you’re going to spin out. Pushing a lock of hair out of my face, I rang the doorbell, aware that my heart was fluttering in my chest like I was a high schooler on her first date. I had to remember, he could be the enemy.

  Moments later, the door opened and I found myself face-to-face with Ethan. The top button of his white dress shirt was undone, and he was wearing a pair of jeans, his dusty brown hair tousled just so. In short, he was looking as handsome as ever, and my stomach flip-flopped as I took in his appearance with wide eyes.

&nbs
p; He seemed to be having a similar reaction, giving me an appreciative once-over as a smile spread on his face. “Wow, Cricket,” he remarked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Even prettier than in high school. You clean up pretty nicely.”

  “You don’t looks so bad yourself,” I replied, putting a hand on my waist and making a show of sizing him up. In reality, as hot as he looked, I was also trying to suss out whether he had his cell phone in one of his pockets or not. Upon completing my visual recon, I met his gaze with a satisfied nod. No cell phone on his person that I could see. It was only as his lips tipped into a sexy grin that I realized it had probably seemed less like I was looking at his pockets and more like I’d been inspecting his bulge and had deemed him worthy.

  My cheeks burned as I cleared my throat. “I, uh, wasn’t about to show up underdressed like I did the last time we went out.”

  Ethan chuckled. “You looked great then and you look great now.” And then he stepped aside, allowing me to follow him into the house as I tried not to let the warmth of his words wash over me like honey.

  Possible danger, Will Robinson. Stay alert.

  But nostalgia flooded me as I trailed behind him through the entryway and into the dining room, where a gorgeous dinner spread had already been laid out.

  “You know, as weird as it sounds, I actually have pretty vivid memories of this place,” I remarked as he pulled a chair out for me.

  “Well, it’s a pretty memorable house,” Ethan agreed, moving to the other side of the table and sliding into the chair across from me. “I’ve gotten halfway to selling it, like, a dozen times, and I’m never quite able to pull the trigger. It’s hard to give up something with so many memories, you know?”

  I nodded.

  “Well,” Ethan said, clapping his hands together, “let’s dig in.”

  I couldn’t help but gape as I looked down at the food he’d set out. Pasta, roasted fish, asparagus tips, and a steaming basket of bread all vied for my attention.

  “Did you really make all this?” I asked him, seriously impressed.

  Ethan nodded, quirking an eyebrow at me. “All of it. I had the day free, and I wouldn’t be caught dead giving you a subpar dinner.”

  A warm feeling swept over me, but I shoved it aside with another brutal reminder. I couldn’t get too caught up in the trappings. There were plenty of reasons to like Ethan, but also an increasing number of reasons to be suspicious of him. He might not have been what he was pretending to be, and if he did have something to do with Maude’s theft, I couldn’t let my guard down.

  At least, not too much.

  Dinner wore on obscenely fast, the kind of evening with such good food and conversation that it was almost impossible to keep track of the time. By the time Ethan began to clear away the dishes, it was after nine and the moon hung, plump in the sky.

  “Do you want help with these?” I asked as he gathered up the plates, hoping against hope that he would say no.

  “Absolutely not,” Ethan replied. “You’re the guest. Let me handle it. I’m just going to get these in the dishwasher and then I’ll serve dessert. Why don’t you head into the great room and pick some music for us?”

  “There’s dessert, too?” I raised my eyebrows. “You’re spoiling me, Ethan.”

  “You’re worth spoiling,” he replied with a lopsided grin

  Butterflies fluttered in my belly as he disappeared with the stack of plates into the kitchen.

  It was time to get down to business, and I couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity. Steeling myself and hoping I wouldn’t make too much noise, I pushed out from the dining room table and peered into the kitchen. As promised, Ethan was busy at the sink, tackling the mountain of dishes. I made my way down past the entryway and into the great room. The room was elegant but masculine and sparsely decorated, with the kind of minimalistic decor that identified an empty-nester. On the couch next to the coffee table was a leather briefcase, which seemed like as good of a place to start as any.

  Hands shaking a little, I unzipped the main compartment and began to root around. Pens, some mail that looked like bills, a couple file folders that seemed to be property listing in the area, and a laptop—which I’d have loved to get a gander at but knew I wouldn’t have the time—but no cell phone. Getting access to his call log and texts would be the easiest way to see if he was communicating with anyone about me, but also would help me figure out who had called him during our oh-so conveniently timed sushi date.

  Giving up on the main compartment of the bag, I checked the side pockets, but still no sign of his cell phone. I was on the verge of risking venturing to another room when I caught a glimpse of a charger on the mantel, and cautiously approached it with bated breath.

  Jackpot! His phone was there, too. I snatched it and woke it up, expecting to encounter a lock screen. I had been fully prepared to steal the damn thing and give it to Mee-maw so she could use her underworld connections to have it hacked, so I was shocked when it opened without asking for a passcode.

  Hardly seemed like the actions of a man hiding secrets, but I had to be certain. I scrolled through his texts, eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. Male friends asking to meet for a round of golf, a woman named Tisha who wanted to know why she hadn’t heard from him, a couple texts from his mom and dad. Nothing of note. I went to his call log and scrolled down to the evening of our sushi date, zeroing in on the timeframe and gasping when I located the call.

  Seven fifty-six PM. An eight-minute call from…

  Nana.

  The relief that coursed through me was short-lived as the sound of a clearing throat had me freezing in shocked terror.

  I whirled around to see Ethan standing in the doorway.

  “Cricket?” he asked, brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”

  Busted.

  “Uh…” What I really wanted to do was demand his secret on doing dishes so dang fast, but I was too busy desperately fumbling for an excuse. “I’m sorry,” I said, setting the phone back on the mantel with shaking hands. “That was stupid. I guess I let my jealousy get the better of me.” Seeing his look of confusion, I sighed. “I heard you were, well, a bit of a player,” I confessed, dropping my eyes in the hopes he wouldn’t pick up on the lie. “That was a crummy thing to do. I’m sorry. I just… After everything that’s happened, I don’t want to get burned again, you know?”

  Ethan’s expression softened, and he took a few steps closer to me. “Hey,” he said, “I get it. I’ve been there. What were you thinking you’d find? Texts from other women?”

  “You took that long call at the sushi restaurant,” I blurted out. “I guess I was worried it was another woman.”

  Ethan chuckled and took the phone off the mantel, scrolling through it for a moment before turning it around to show me the call history I’d already seen. “It was my grandmother,” he said. “I guess I should be flattered that you think I’m such a hot commodity.”

  His good humor about the situation showed a lot more grace that I’d probably have been capable of if I caught someone spying on me, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I’d gotten the answer I’d hoped for, and Ethan didn’t hate me. I had to log that as a win.

  Did that mean I could trust him?

  Only time would tell.

  “You never know, with a guy as good as you are. I can’t believe there isn’t a line of women fighting for you.”

  “You really think so?” he asked, moving closer to me.

  I bit my lip. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “Yeah, I do.”

  “I could say the same thing,” Ethan replied, brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes. “In fact, I was wondering what you’d say to making this…well, more of a thing. Not just catching up for old time’s sake, but dating for real, I mean. I like you a lot, Cricket. Always have.”

  For a moment, I was at a loss for words. It felt like everything was falling on me at once, and something that should have made me ecstatic now felt like
another complication. As much as I liked him, I had other more pressing matters to deal with. But I didn’t want to lose him, either…

  “Listen, Ethan,” I said, putting a hand on his arm, “I like you a lot, too. That’s kind of why I was snooping through your phone.” I blushed, and he laughed a little. “But I’d be lying if I said things weren’t…complicated for me right now,” I continued. “Between my grandma’s heart attack, and trying to get my old house sold…” I trailed off, not mentioning the witch covens, immortal antique saleswoman, or the magic typewriter, which seemed more like third-date material. “I just can’t commit right now,” I finished, meeting his eyes.

  He nodded, clearly disappointed. “I understand.”

  “That said, though,” I added, biting my lip, “I still want to see you and do…whatever this is we’re doing. Just until things settle down for me a little.”

  Ethan beamed at me, his smile enough to make my insides turn to mush. “So does that mean I get another date?”

  “Yes,” I replied without hesitation. “Yes. Absolutely.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he said, and, before I even knew what was happening, he was leaning down to kiss me.

  I let him.

  His lips were soft as they brushed mine, almost tentative, another throwback to the teenagers that we were once. Feeling a heavy lust settle into my stomach, I allowed it to become more passionate, bringing my hands up to rest on his shoulders as he pulled me flush against him. My soft parts molded to his drool-worthy hard ones and, before long we were migrating to the couch, dessert forgotten, too lost in each other’s arms to think about anything else. When was the last time I had made out with someone? Not just a peck on the lips, but a real, honest-to-god, hot and heavy make-out session?

  I honestly couldn’t remember. The important part was that I was enjoying his company and his touch and, for now, Ethan was in the clear. I’d searched his phone and there had been no talk of burglary, or typewriters. Just a call from his nana.

  My tension melting away, I was just starting to allow my hands to roam Ethan’s fit form when the sound of my phone ringing snapped us out of the trance. In any other situation I would have let it go to voicemail, but the odds of it being Zoe or Mee-maw were too high to ignore it. They’d have the cavalry over here in a jiff if I didn’t pick up.