Men Love Witches Page 7

  Harmony cracked a smile. “In-laws. The only thing scarier than vampires.”

  Chapter Eight

  “You know, I think maybe I’m coming down with something,” I said, brushing my fingers across my throat as I turned toward Adam. Coughing, I grimaced. “You know, maybe we should just reschedule for another time. I don’t want to pass this on.”

  Adam shook his head as he pushed off the edge of the bed and went to retrieve his wallet from the top of the dresser. With a grin, he slid it into the back pocket of the navy slacks he’d chosen for the evening. “Nice try, gorgeous, but we’re going.”

  Scowling, I dropped my hand back to my side. “You’re mean.”

  He laughed. “And you’re being dramatic.”

  “Hey!”

  Chuckling, he crossed the bedroom and kissed me. When he pulled away, he kept his hands on either side of my face. “They’re coming into town specifically to have dinner with us. We can’t stand them up.”

  “You make it sound like they have to walk through the desert or something,” I replied. “It probably takes less than a minute to get from Boston to here via the portal.”

  Adam arched a brow.

  “Fine, fine,” I grumbled.

  He smiled. “Meet you downstairs?”

  “I’m not in the mood to try and rappel down the side of the house, so yes,” I replied, turning back to the mirror to give myself a final once-over. We were meeting Adam’s parents for dinner at an upscale restaurant in the neighboring town of Pine Shoal. I’d chosen a classic black dress for the occasion, pairing it with a pair of purple tights and ankle booties. My hair was pulled back in a twisty up-do, secured with a pair of gold clasps. I looked good but couldn’t help wondering what Adam’s parents would think. Adam’s mother was a fashion maven who probably slept in silk pajamas with a matching robe and slippers. Everything had to be just so. I wasn’t a slouch in the fashion department, but I didn’t own anything with a designer label, and usually wound up wearing the same handful of outfits in rotation.

  “Good.” He smiled. “I didn’t want to have to fish you out of the bushes.”

  I rolled my eyes and reached for my bottle of perfume. “We can’t have you ruining your one good pair of pants.”

  He laughed. “Hey, I have two now!”

  I spritzed one wrist with the light floral fragrance, then rubbed it against the other before returning the perfume bottle to my nightstand. “Your cargo pants don’t count.”

  “I know that,” Adam replied, still chuckling. “I meant the ones for the wedding.”

  My eyes widened. “You bought your wedding suit already?”

  “Sure did.”

  “When?”

  “A couple days ago. You were at work. I went to that tailor Anastasia told us about. Whole thing took less than an hour.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He hitched one shoulder, then leaned against the doorframe. “You’ve been having such a hard time choosing a dress, I didn’t want to rub it in too much.”

  “Can I see the suit?” I asked, sliding a glance toward the closed closet doors.

  Adam smiled. “After dinner.”

  He extended a hand toward me.

  Huffing a sigh, I took it and let him lead me downstairs and out to the car.

  Bella and Mortimer St. James met us in the bar of the swanky eatery, and as expected, they were both impeccably dressed for the occasion. Adam was his father’s carbon copy in many ways. Mortimer was a few inches shorter and a few pounds heavier, mostly apparent in his midsection, which protruded slightly over his beltline. He had salt-and-pepper hair, though it was still thick. His mother, Bella, was about as tall as her husband in her three-inch pumps. Her glossy raven hair was styled in loose curls tonight, and she’d kept her makeup minimal, but it was obvious she knew just how to apply it to accentuate her green eyes.

  “It’s so good to see you both,” Mortimer—Morty—said once we’d exchanged greetings.

  Bella pulled Adam in for a crisp embrace. “It’s been too long.”

  My stomach churned a little. I couldn’t help but feel the comment was meant as a barb.

  “Holly,” Bella said, turning toward me once she released Adam, “you look lovely.”

  “Thank you.”

  We exchanged a stiff hug and I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I stepped back into place beside Adam.

  “We put our names in for a table already,” Mortimer said, then gestured at his tumbler. “Thought we’d kill time with a drink. Would either of you like one? We have another ten to fifteen minutes to wait.”

  Adam ordered a beer, and I ordered a Manhattan. A little booze would do me some good. Maybe then I’d be able to stop trying to read into every fleeting glance Bella shot my way. She’d never been unpleasant toward me—at least not openly—and the two of them were the only reason we’d been able to buy the Beechwood Manor back when Posy and Earl decided to sell. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what she thought whenever she looked at me. Both she and Morty wanted Adam back in his hometown in the Boston Haven, but he’d chosen Beechwood, which had led to choosing me, and now the inn.

  “So, tell us,” Bella said, raising her cocktail glass to her lips, “how is the planning going for the wedding?”

  “Six weeks to go!” Morty added with a smile. “Must be quite exciting.”

  Adam smiled at me. “Well, we just picked out the flowers and got all that taken care of. One of Holly’s friends is a florist, so that helped make it easy.”

  “Oh, how nice. What did you end up choosing?” Bella asked, shifting her gaze toward me as she took a sip of what appeared to be a martini.

  “Mostly hydrangea and roses, with lots of greenery,” I replied. “Kind of going with a simple, handpicked look.”

  “How interesting,” Bella purred.

  One of Adam’s dimples made a brief appearance as he stifled a smile.

  I could only imagine the type of wedding Bella had likely envisioned for her son. Something held in a ballroom, with huge sprays of artfully arranged flowers, a menu filled with food items I couldn’t pronounce, and someone playing a giant, white harp. A backyard wedding—even when that backyard was outside a stately manor with well-maintained landscaping—was likely akin to hosting the affair in a barn, according to Mrs. St. James.

  “What about your dress?” Bella continued. “Are you wearing white?”

  Heat prickled at my cheeks. “Ivory, actually.”

  Adam shot me a sidelong glance.

  “Um, with a sweetheart neckline and a short train,” I continued, infusing mock confidence into my answer, even as I boxed myself into a corner—seeing as how the spot I’d reserved in the closet for my wedding dress was still woefully vacant. Oh well, I could always tell her I’d changed my mind later if she asked.

  “It sounds quite classic,” Bella replied, giving me an approving nod.

  A hostess in a deep purple dress approached us, holding a stack of black folios. “Mr. and Mrs. St. James?” she asked. “Your table is ready.”

  Bella and Morty placed their glasses on the bar and followed after the hostess. I hung back an extra second to chug the rest of my Manhattan. Adam chuckled as he placed his glass beside mine. “Breathe.”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted.

  “Uh-huh. And apparently, sometime in the last ten minutes, you’ve also selected a wedding gown. So, this has been a productive evening for you.” He smiled and placed a hand on the small of my back, propelling me forward. “Where did all that come from, anyway?”

  “I don’t know,” I sighed. “I just sort of panicked and started describing my mother’s wedding dress.”

  “Aha.”

  Balling my hands together, I dug my fists into my cheeks. Adam gently pushed them aside and we hurried to catch up with the hostess. She seated us at a four-top near the center of the restaurant and the fingers of anxiety wrapped a little tighter around my spine, as I suddenly felt like even more o
f a spotlight was shining over my head.

  Luckily, Adam took the reins before his mother could launch into another line of questioning about the wedding. “So, Dad, did you and Uncle Steve go out for your annual fishing trip? Must have been a doozy, since you didn’t send me any pictures to brag about your catch.”

  Morty took the bait—no pun intended—and launched into a wild story involving a trout with a rebellious streak and a capsized canoe, leaving me to peruse my menu in peace. By the time the appetizers arrived, the fish tales had dwindled and Morty was talking about work. He worked for the SPA in some capacity, though I still wasn’t entirely sure what he did exactly. Something administrative. From there, things shifted to discussing the inn and how that was going—a topic far easier to discuss than the wedding, especially as things had been going really well lately.

  “We actually should be able to pay back the loan in full by the end of the year,” Adam told his parents after we discussed the last few months of solid weekend bridal party bookings.

  Morty’s brows lifted as he reached for his wineglass. “This year?”

  Adam smiled. “That’s right.”

  “That’s great!” Morty declared, raising the glass for a toast. “Congratulations, you two.”

  We clinked glasses and some of the coiled tension in my stomach finally released.

  “Just so you know, son, there’s no rush on the loan. In fact, I think you two should use the money to go on an extended honeymoon,” Morty continued. “You’ve both been hard at work, what with your individual businesses, and now the inn. You’re due for a break, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe get started planning your next venture,” Bella added, sliding her husband a sidelong smile.

  Morty chuckled. “You’ve got this one ready to become Grandma Bella.”

  I choked on my wine and lowered the glass to the table while I sputtered.

  “I think I like Nana,” Bella added, smiling serenely as I struggled to catch my breath.

  Adam patted my back. “I think we’re a ways off from that, so take your time to decide.”

  Bella frowned at me.

  “I—I’m not sure where we’d find the time to even think about babies,” I stammered.

  Bella sighed and placed her linen napkin beside her plate.

  Morty smiled. “Regardless, a honeymoon is in order, don’t you think?”

  “We were thinking of waiting until next summer,” Adam said. “The wedding plans are all happening really fast and with the three businesses, it’s a little hard to juggle it all. We thought it would be better to wait until we could really have the time to do it right.”

  “So, you’re not having a honeymoon at all?” Bella asked, her expression alarmed, as though it somehow reflected badly upon her if we chose to do things nontraditionally.

  “Holly’s always wanted to go to Florence,” Adam said, smiling at me. “We’re thinking we’ll do Florence, Italy next summer, but for now, we’re going to Florence, Oregon for a long weekend.”

  Bella shot an alarmed glance at her husband. “Florence, Oregon?”

  “It’s a cute little beach town a few hours south of here,” Adam continued. “We booked a rental house for three nights. They have these sand dunes, and you can rent ATVs and go dune surfing.”

  Bella downed the rest of her martini in one swallow.

  “Mom,” Adam said, unable to hold back a grin, “it’s not the end of the world. We promise to send you pictures from Italy next year to show off to all of your friends.”

  Bella’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not about photographs, Adam. This is about tradition and the natural order of things!”

  Morty placed an arm along the back of his wife’s chair. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. Let them do what they want. If they think this—uh—dune surfing thing sounds fun, then who are we to stop them? It does sound like an adventure!”

  Bella didn’t look convinced, but she distracted herself by flagging down a passing server long enough to order another drink.

  “See, told you we’d survive,” Adam said as we climbed into the car an hour later. “Even got a chocolate torte out of the deal.”

  “I’m surprised it made it all the way to the car,” I teased, balancing the white take-out box on my knees as I buckled my seat belt. Once buckled, I peered out my window in the direction Morty and Bella had taken back to their car. “Think your mom’s heart rate is back to normal? I thought she was going to go apoplectic when you started talking about ATVs and sand dunes.”

  Adam shook his head and turned on the radio. “She’s just mad she won’t be able to show off a bunch of glamorous photos to all her high-society friends. We might as well have told her we were planning to stay in a rundown hostel for our wedding night.”

  “Oh, the horror,” I deadpanned. “I don’t get it. If we’re happy, that’s all that should matter. Who cares if the pictures on the mantel are from a little beach town on the Oregon coast or from in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa? What difference does it make?”

  “It’s just one of those things,” Adam said, pulling out of the parking space. “She’ll get over it.”

  “And what was all that about having a honeymoon baby? That was left field, wasn’t it?”

  Adam laughed. “She doesn’t know how hard it’s been just to get you to agree to go down the aisle,” he teased. “Talking you into having a baby will probably take me another five years at this rate.”

  I laughed. “Now who’s being dramatic?”

  “Don’t worry, gorgeous, I’m not in a hurry,” Adam said, sliding me one of his patented dimpled grins.

  “At my age, my parents were already married and had me,” I said, my smile turning wistful. “Sometimes I wonder what my mom would tell me, if she were still here. Would she be prodding me to make her Grandma Boldt?”

  Adam didn’t answer, but he reached across the center console and took my hand.

  "Stars,” I muttered, blinking quickly. “That’s the second time today I’ve fallen down that rabbit hole. All this wedding stuff is turning me into a soggy mess.”

  “I think that’s understandable, given everything you’ve gone through,” Adam told me. Concern showed in his eyes as he glanced at me. “I would give anything to get your mom and dad back for you, Holly.”

  The lump in my throat swelled and all I could do was nod.

  As we turned onto the main highway, a familiar song piped through the speakers and I smiled to myself and cranked up the volume. “What do you think? Should this one make it onto the wedding playlist?” I asked Adam as the singer launched into the up-tempo chorus.

  He laughed. “Sure.”

  We’d hired a DJ to play music for the ceremony and reception but were in charge of cultivating a playlist for the big day. We’d slowly been adding songs over the past months, especially since buying the SUV. Driving around with the radio up was the best way to come up with inspiration for the list.

  We talked about music and sang along all the way back to Beechwood and spilled out of the SUV grinning and laughing together. I didn’t even notice the front door open until Evangeline called out my name.

  “Oh, hey, Evie—” Adam started to say.

  “She’s back!” Evangeline exclaimed, running down the steps. “They’re back!”

  I blinked. “Who—”

  Before my brain could fully catch up with itself, a shimmering silver shadow appeared on the front porch.

  “Posy!” I squealed. “You’re back!”

  Evangeline reached me and looped her arm through mine as she turned to beam at the ghost hovering at the top of the steps. “She’s back!”

  “Hello, dear,” Posy said with a warm smile. “You look well.”

  I wanted nothing more than to throw my arms around her neck, but they would only pass through her silhouette. “I can’t believe you’re here,” I said, my eyes a little teary. “How are you? How is Earl? How was—well, everything?”

  Posy laughed softly, her own eyes
glossy and bright. “Come inside and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  I took one step toward her, and then a scream ripped through the night.

  Chapter Nine

  “It’s gone!”

  As soon as we stepped inside the manor, Lacey descended the stairs, her pale skin even paler, one hand clutched around her neck. “It’s gone!” she repeated, louder this time. “Someone took it!”

  I held up a hand. “Whoa, slow down. What’s gone?”

  “The—” She stopped, her eyes going wider. “My—my pendant.”

  “Where was the last place you saw it?” Evangeline asked.

  “It was in the safe, in my room,” Lacey replied. Her nails dug deeper into her neck and I halfway worried she might break the skin. “I locked it up this morning, before going to bed.”

  Adam glanced into the formal living room. “Where is everyone else?” he asked.

  “Matthias and Jupiter are upstairs, examining the safe. I don’t know where the others are—dinner didn’t go well, and we all decided we needed a break from our talks.” Tension pulled at her mouth. “Evangeline, have you seen anyone?”

  Evangeline swallowed, then shook her head. “Sorry, no. I was on the phone with Teddy, in the sitting room, when Posy showed up and we’d barely started talking before I saw Holly and Adam pull up the driveway.”

  Posy hovered at my right-hand side. Lacey glanced at her, as though she hadn’t noticed her enter the foyer through the wall. “How long have you been here?” Lacey asked the ghost—her former landlady. “Have you seen anyone else?”

  “I’ve only just arrived. Earl went into town to check in with Sturgeon, one of his ghost friends.” Posy looked to me, her expression forlorn. “It seems we chose an inopportune time to return home.”

  “No, no,” I hurried to say, “not at all. We are so happy you’re back. We were beginning to worry.”

  Lacey looked ready to bolt. I stuffed down my excitement over Posy’s return to the manor and shifted gears. “You’re sure you locked it in the safe?” I asked Lacey. “There was a lot going on last night. Is there any chance you meant to do it, but didn’t quite make it?”