4 Witching On A Star (6 page)

“This is a great store!”

Sam was barely inside Hypnotic before he was dousing both Thistle and Clove with a nonstop litany of compliments.

“The color palette is pleasing and the way you’ve set up the shelves makes the eyes of your customers dance. They literally dance.”

Thistle shot a wary glance in my direction. She may have thought I’d been overreacting before, but anyone that immediately tried to blow sunshine up her ass was suspicious in her book.

“Wow! Look at these great candles. Do you guys have a supplier or do you make them yourself?”

Sam had made his way over to one of the display shelves –- his back was to the three of us. Thistle was frowning but Clove was smiling.

I watched as Clove smoothed her long black hair down, checked her teeth quickly in the mirror behind the counter and then made her way over to Sam. “You must be Sam Cornell,” she said by way of introduction. “Bay was just telling us all about you.”

Sam fixed Clove with a wide and curious smile. “Was she now?” He slid an unreadable look in my direction and then turned back to Clove. “What was she saying?”

“Oh, nothing major,” Clove said dismissively. “Just about how Brian hired you to decide if The Whistler should be expanded to three days a week.”

“Is that all she was saying?”

Sam obviously sensed that Clove would tell him just about anything. He clearly had a sense for reading people.

Thistle sensed trouble, so she stepped in. “What else would she tell us?”

Sam glanced at Thistle and frowned when he saw the challenging look on her face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Thistle narrowed her eyes, challenging Sam to defy her. Anyone that knew her would be running and screaming in fear under her stern countenance, but Sam was either too stupid – or just stupid enough – to ignore it. “What do you think Bay said about it?”

Sam chuckled. “I think she told you that it’s a bad idea and Brian and I are crazy for even considering it.” He slid another sly look in Clove’s direction and winked at her. “Is that what she said?”

Clove giggled. “Kind of,” she admitted.

Thistle looked murderous, while I suddenly wished one of Aunt Tillie’s magic moles would open a sinkhole directly underneath me.

“That’s okay,” Sam held up his hands in a placating manner. “I’m used to people doubting my talents.”

“I don’t see how anyone could,” Clove said. “I’m Clove, by the way. And that grumpy one over there is Thistle. We’re Bay’s cousins.”

“Brian filled me in on the family dynamic,” Sam said.

“I just bet he did,” Thistle replied coldly. “And what did Brian say?”

“He said that your family ran the best inn in the area, with the best food in the entire state,” Sam beamed at Thistle. When she refused to alter her expression, though, he fixed his attention back on Clove. “He said that you’re all witty and a lot of fun. Oh, and that you’re all unbelievably beautiful.”

Clove visibly melted under the compliment.

“Really?” Thistle looked doubtful. “What did he say about Aunt Tillie?”

Sam furrowed his brow at Thistle’s antagonistic nature. “Is she the elderly aunt that lives with you?”

Thistle nodded mutely.

“He said that the sense of family that you all share is amazing,” Sam looked uncomfortable. “That you all keep your aunt living with you, even though she’s suffering from dementia, it just proves what wonderful people you all really are.”

Thistle laughed hollowly. “Really? That’s what he said?”

“Did I say something wrong?” Sam looked to Clove, concern etched all over his handsome face.

“No,” Clove said hurriedly. “It’s not that. Brian is just sort of scared of our Aunt Tillie.”

“Well, sometimes mental illness makes people uncomfortable,” Sam replied sagely. “It doesn’t mean that person is a bad person, just that he or she might not understand the situation fully.”

The only one who didn’t understand the situation was Sam Cornell. I couldn’t wait until Aunt Tillie found out that Brian was telling people she had dementia. That would go over about as well as his newspaper expansion plan would.

“Our Aunt Tillie doesn’t have dementia,” I said, finally speaking for the first time since Sam entered Hypnotic. “She’s not crazy.”

Thistle raised her eyebrows. “Well, she doesn’t have dementia,” I corrected myself quickly. “She’s just set in her ways.”

“Then why does Brian think she has dementia?” Sam looked embarrassed. I didn’t blame him.

“Because she terrorizes him,” I admitted. “She thinks it’s fun.”

Sam broke into a wide grin. “Well, I can’t wait to meet her then.”

“Yeah, it will be fun,” Thistle agreed. “I’d open with that whole bit about her having dementia and see how it goes from there. She’s going to love spending time with you.”

Sam frowned at Thistle. “Have I done something to offend you?”

“No,” Clove said hurriedly. “She’s just grumpy by nature.”

“I am not.”

“You are, too,” Clove argued.

Thistle turned to me angrily. “Bay, am I grumpy by nature?”

I shrugged. Really, what did she want me to say to that? Thankfully, I didn’t have to vocally answer Thistle’s query because the wind chimes over the door were clanging to announce the arrival of someone new. I glanced at the door and saw Landon standing in the entryway watching everyone curiously. “Hey,” I said in surprise. “I didn’t know you were in town today.”

“I don’t have anything going on,” Landon said, his eyes never leaving Sam Cornell’s face as he made his way over to me. “I thought I would join the three of you for lunch.”

“How did you know I would be here?”

Landon finally turned his full attention to me and smiled as he tipped my chin up and gave me a quick kiss of greeting. “Where else would you be?”

“I guess I’m predictable,” I said.

“That’s not the word I would use,” Landon said, slinging an arm over my shoulders and then turning back to Sam. “And who is this?”

“This is Sam Cornell,” Clove said, a hint of wistful whimsy in her tone. “He’s in town to see about expanding The
Whistler to three days of publication a week. Brian Kelly hired him.”

Landon’s lips tightened. He wasn’t exactly a fan of Brian. “Really? That seems like a waste of time.”

Sam met Landon’s gaze curiously. “Why do you say that?”

“Because Bay has trouble filling one paper a week,” Landon replied smoothly. “How is she going to fill three?”

“That’s one of the things we’re here to discus,” Sam said, refusing to rise to Landon’s bait. “I won’t know exactly what is feasible until I spend some time in Hemlock Cove and get a feel for the area.”

“Well, this is pretty much it,” Landon said snidely. “If you’ve walked down Main Street, you have a feel for the town.”

“For someone that obviously spends a lot of time here, you have a low opinion of the area,” Sam challenged him.

“I don’t have a low opinion of the area,” Landon replied easily. “I happen to love the area. I like the people. I like the peace. I’m rather fond of the newspaper,” Landon winked at me. “I don’t think it needs to be changed.”

“What? The paper or the town?” Sam asked curiously.

“Either,” Landon said.

I glanced over at Thistle. She was watching the verbal exchange between the two men with as much interest as I was. Clove only appeared interested in looking Sam up and down, paying particular interest to his rear. I had a feeling that she wasn’t even aware of the fact that Landon and Sam were trying to slap each other down with words.

“Anyone hungry?” I broke in suddenly. I didn’t want this exchange to devolve anymore that it already had.

“I am,” Thistle said, catching on to my intentions immediately. “You want Thai?”

“Sounds good,” I agreed, tugging on Landon’s arm to draw him over to the counter and away from Sam. “What do you want?”

Landon glanced down at the menu Thistle was spreading out and pointed to the Pad Thai. I ordered the same, while Thistle tried to cajole Clove over to the counter to place her order. Clove wasn’t about to be deterred, though. “You want to have lunch with us, Sam?” Clove offered.

Sam shifted his gaze between the four of us at the counter and then smiled widely. “That sounds delicious. I’ll have whatever . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” He turned to Landon expectantly.

“Landon Michaels.”

“I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

“You don’t even know what he pointed to,” Thistle grumbled.

“I’m not picky.”

Sam sauntered over to a chair and sat down, linking his fingers together and placing them on his stomach as he watched the rest of us uncomfortably order lunch and then join him in the little den area.

“So, how long are you going to be in town?” Clove asked, slipping into the chair next to Sam.

“It depends,” Sam replied. “Probably a few weeks. I have to earn my money, after all.”

Landon sat on end of the couch farthest away from Sam. I thought it was an unconscious attempt to put distance between the two of them, but then I realized it was actually so Landon would have a better view of Sam in all of his smug glory. I joined Landon on the couch, making room for Thistle to sit on the other side of me. Once everyone was situated, the room lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

Sam was the first to break. “So, tell me about your family?”

“Why?” Thistle asked derisively.

“I don’t know, I’m just fascinated, that’s all,” Sam said. “Especially now that I know your Aunt Tillie really isn’t mentally ill.”

Landon barked out a laugh. “Who told you that?”

“Brian told him she had dementia,” I explained.

“Oh, I can’t wait until she hears that,” Landon smirked. “That’s going to send her on a tear.”

“You know her?” Sam looked surprised.

“I’ve spent some time with her,” Landon said cagily. “She’s Bay’s aunt, after all, and there are a lot of family dinners.”

“So, you’re Bay’s boyfriend?” The question was pointed.

I watched Landon curiously to see how he would answer. We’d never really defined our relationship. We were just suddenly together.

“I am,” Landon replied easily.

“For how long?”

“What?”

“How long have you been together?” Sam kept pushing.

“A few months,” Landon said. “Is there a reason why you care?”

“Just curious,” Sam replied. “I wasn’t aware Bay had a boyfriend. Brian never mentioned it.”

“Well, Brian is a douche,” Landon wrinkled his nose distastefully.

“You don’t like him?”

“Let’s just say we’re not going to set a golf date anytime soon,” Landon said.

“And what do you do for a living?”

“I’m with the FBI,” Landon said pointedly.

“Really?” Sam looked genuinely surprised.

“Really,” Landon nodded his head.

“And how did you and Bay meet?”

“Oh, that’s a fun story,” Clove clapped. I figured she was trying to draw Sam’s attention back to her.

“Why don’t you tell it, Clove,” Thistle interjected dryly.

Clove didn’t need another opening. She launched into the story with gusto. By the time she got to the end, I was relieved she had left any magical bits out – because she had went into great detail on just about everything else. At least she hadn’t completely lost her mind in the shade of Sam Cornell’s brown eyes. When she was done, she turned to Sam expectantly. “It’s that romantic?”

Landon snorted. “I don’t remember thinking it was that romantic when I had a bullet in me.”

“Well, it all worked out,” Clove sniffed.

Landon cast a sidelong glance at me. “Yeah, it definitely worked out.”

“I’m just fascinated with your family,” Sam said suddenly. “You have roots to this area that stretch back centuries, right?”

“We do,” Clove agreed. “We’ve been here for years.”

“How did you know that?” Thistle was on edge again.

“I’ve just done some light reading on the area,” Sam said smoothly – although I sensed an evasive quality to his words. “I’m a history buff.”

“Me, too,” Clove smiled.

“Since when?” Thistle challenged her. “Your idea of history is watching
Downton Abbey
.”

“That is history,” Clove grumbled.

“Not really,” Thistle shot back.

“What do you know about the history in this area?” Sam broke in quickly.

“It was mostly uninhabited until the early 1930s,” I replied. “There were small homesteads and families, but no real town so to speak.”

“That’s interesting,” Sam mused. “From some of the stuff I read, even though there wasn’t an actual town here, there was a real sense of community.”

“In what way?”

“Well, the homesteaders in this immediate area were believed to be performing witchcraft,” Sam said, suggestively waggling his eyebrows in Clove’s direction. “Real black magic and stuff. That’s why they thrived when others were failing. Or that’s how the legend goes, anyway.”