A Taste of Honey (17 page)

“It is too bad,” he agreed. “I just stopped by to say hi – I’m afraid I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Of course you do.” Patty took up her station behind the counter, a big grin splitting her face and a distinct gleam lighting up her green eyes.

“See you at home.” Ronnie squeezed Violet’s hand and gave her a heart-melting smile before exiting the shop, leaving her alone with Patty.

“So when’s the wedding?” Patty demanded, not for the first time.

Violet laughed as she turned back to the pottery display, her fingers still tingling with Ronnie’s heat. “No wedding plans as of now.” Beneath the thick knit of her sweater, the place where four diagonal scars crossed her shoulder felt deliciously warm as she thought of Ronnie.

“You’d better work your magic,” Patty said. “You’d be crazy to let a man like him slip away. If I was about twenty years younger, I’d ask you if he had any brothers.”

Violet suppressed a giggle and bit her tongue as she thought first of Ted and then of Will, Ronnie’s father. “Don’t worry, Ronnie and I are going to be together for a long time – I can promise you that.”

About the Author

Ranae Rose is the bestselling author of over a dozen paranormal, historical and contemporary romances, all of them delightfully steamy. She lives on the US East Coast with her family, dogs and horses and spends most of her time letting her very active imagination run wild, penning her next story. When she's not writing, she can usually be found in the saddle or behind a good book with a cup of tea.
You can learn more about Ranae and her books, including the Half Moon Shifters Series, at:

www.ranaerose.com

Ranae loves to hear from readers! She can be reached at:
[email protected]

Connect with Ranae on Twitter: @Ranae_Rose

Half Moon Shifters Series

A werewolf pack in the Great Smoky Mountains grows from one lonely alpha to a strong pack united by love and loyalty, with lots of sparks and silver bullets flying along the way.

Previous titles in the Half Moon Shifters Series…

Lonely Alpha (Book 1)

True Alpha (Book 2)

The Half Moon Shifters Series is also available in paperback editions.

Get the latest Half Moon Shifters Series news anytime at:

 
www.ranaerose.com

If you enjoy Ranae’s paranormal romances, you may also like bestselling romance author Carrie Ann Ryan’s newest series. Read on for a taste of
Charmed Spirits
, Book 1 in the Holiday Montana Series.

The Holiday, Montana Series—Where Make Believe is Real

Charmed Spirits

Chapter 1

“The road to salvation is found through cleansing your heart and finding the right path. Turn your back on those with wicked ways.”

Jordan Cross switched off the radio in her ’68 Mustang.

“Really? They’re still preaching that garbage? It’s 2012 for freak’s sake,” she mumbled to herself, and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

She came up to a sign and rolled her eyes at the message.

“Yeah, sure.
Welcome to Holiday, Montana
. Right. Like that would ever happen. And, Jordan, you really need to quit talking to yourself or they’ll think you’re crazier than they already do.”

On second thought, maybe adding new quirks to her repertoire would enhance her wickedness. She smiled and took a sip of her Coke, her gaze on the empty road ahead of her. She practiced her cackle and looked out on the barren hills and plains of Holiday, Montana.

Okay, so it wasn’t barren. She just hated it so much she wanted it to be barren so it would reflect that. Trees reached to the sky, their fall colors reminiscent of a harvest sunset. Deep greens, burnt oranges, and crisp apple reds dotted the tree line. Mountains carved through the skyline, towering over the valleys beneath them. Rivers and streams cut through the rolling meadows and beautiful clearings creating a freaking stunning landscape. Any second now Bambi would frolic through.

She knew she needed to stop the bitter attitude. After all, her life’s work—well, the one she hid from peering eyes—depended on nature and all its bounty. Still, that didn’t mean she had to like the fact she’d returned to Holiday.

“I’m back.”

She rolled her eyes and squinted until she saw the first building. Ah, downtown Holiday. Still as adventurous as ever. With the ten buildings on Main Street, it was a regular old metropolis. She already missed take-out and late-night movies. No matter, she’d only be here for a few weeks. Two months tops. Then she’d drive off like a bat out of hell—again.

Jordan let out a sigh and forced herself not to turn around and step on the gas and run. No, not race away exactly; just strategically not be anywhere near the place that had stolen so much of her life. She’d lived in Holiday for eighteen years, five with her folks before they’d crashed their plane into the side of a mountain, the rest with her grandmother who doted on her with sharp-as-glass type of love.

A pang shocked her heart, and she bit her lip. She couldn’t think about that now or the fact that the only reason she was even here was because her grandmother was gone. She’d been overseas at an event for her old employer and hadn’t even known her grandmother was sick. In fact, she hadn’t spoken with her in years. Not since the last fight that had torn them apart. Jordan hadn’t wanted to return to find her legacy, but her grandmother had wanted her by her side. It was only because of a lost phone message that Jordan had even heard that her grandmother had passed away. She’d missed the funeral and all the arrangements. Thankfully, her grandmother’s friends, the Coopers, had taken care of everything.

Now Jordan was left to clean an old, abandoned house and sell it in a small town where all the citizens hated her. She blinked back the tears she refused to shed and pulled into a parking spot in front of the general store—not a Walmart in sight. The town looked as though it had a modern tilt meshed with an early twentieth century flair—with the small-town attitude that came with it.

Jordan turned off the car, the dull hum of her engine quieting. People milled past, casting curious looks her way.

They all gave her a look that reflected the same thing: ‘Who is that stranger?’ A look of recognition soon followed, and a look of contempt replaced curiosity.

Hmph. If they looked beneath the surface, they’d see the girl they’d kicked and poked until she ran. They’d see the girl who’d tried to stand tall but hid behind the brown-haired boy who loved her.

She cursed and got out of the car. Already, the memories of why she’d left assaulted her. How was she supposed to make it through a couple months? She grabbed her purse, slammed the car door, and walked into the General Store.

Old Mr. Clancy stood behind the counter, a smile on his face and a story on his lips. God, some things never changed. When she was young, and when Matt hadn’t been around, he’d sneak her bubble gum or Tootsie Pops when the other kids had teased her.

Matt.

She closed her eyes and fought to breathe. He couldn’t be on her thoughts; she wouldn’t let him. Yes, he still lived here, but for all she knew, he was happily married with his three point five babies and a puppy. He, above all others, deserved that.

Jordan took a deep breath and grabbed a pack of gum and a Coke. She really didn’t need anything, but if there was one way to announce her presence, it was to show up at town central and wait for the busybodies to do their jobs—whispering through the grapevine to announce her presence. She could have shown up with a bang, maybe on a broomstick or something, just to live up to her name. But witches didn’t fly… Well, at least not in her case.

Jordan Cross might be a witch, but she wasn’t a pointy-hat-wearing, card-carrying member of the green-skinned race. Nope, she was just a normal woman with a few extraordinary talents.

Those talents had scared the hell out of the bigoted townsfolk and caused her to run like a frightened little girl. Energy pooled within her, and she inhaled again, calming herself. The last thing she needed was to welcome her townsfolk with a display of magic.

At least not yet.

She’d keep that up her sleeve, just in case.

Jordan perused the aisles, waiting for someone to notice her and, if she were honest with herself, procrastinating about going home—no, her grandmother’s home. If just going down Main Street had made the memories so fresh they were like gaping wounds, she couldn’t imagine seeing the two-story cabin. People strolled in and out of the store, not paying attention to her.

“Did you hear about last night?” A woman in her mid-fifties who Jordan didn’t recognize was talking to Mr. Clancy.

The shop owner nodded, his eyes bright under bushy white eyebrows.  “Another sighting.”

Jordan’s interest perked up, and she dragged her fingers over a bag of M&M’s, trying to look nonchalant. A spy she would never be, but she could try.

“This time it was by Betty across the street. She swore she heard chains!”

Mr. Clancy let out a bellow of a laugh. “Really? So, this is Jacob Marley, now?”

The lady sniffed but smiled. “Who knows what Betty saw? But I think something should be done about the old Marlow place. Kids are forever trying to break in and damage things. I know we don’t want to tear or burn it down because it’s been deemed historical, but it’s dilapidated and a menace to this town.”

“Ah, now, Mrs. Jacobs, don’t think that. That place has history. It just happens to have a ghost.”

“But really, we would be much better off without that eyesore, we should just burn the thing down. We have enough historical things around town as it is.”

The old man shook his head. “You really need to stop thinking that way. We can’t do it.”

Jordan started and almost dropped her gum. Had she heard right? A ghost in Holiday? Oh, that was rich. The town that had kicked her out for being a witch wanted to burn down a house because they thought it held a ghost in it.

She shook her head and walked toward Mr. Clancy to check out. She’d seen a few ghosts in her time, but they’d been harmless, just pale shells of their former selves who couldn’t let go. Not a reason to tear down a building. Maybe she’d check out the old Marlow place while she was here. It would give her something to do other than bury herself in memories and avoid Matt.

“Jordan?”

Jordan dropped her gum and unopened Coke, the can rolling to the booted foot of the man with the voice that haunted her dreams.

She raised her head, unable to speak, as he picked up the can. He had the same brown hair with honeyed streaks. It was longer now in the front than it had been when they were younger. Perfect for her fingers—no, she couldn’t think that. His blue eyes looked even sexier with his aged face, not old, but not an eighteen-year old boy either. No, this was a thirty-year-old man with the hard body to prove it.

She straightened her shoulders and met his dumbfounded gaze head-on. “Matt.”

“You’re back.”

She gave a wry smile, pushing down the urge to throw herself into his arms or run from the crowd that had gathered around them.

“Looks like it.”

He held out his hand, and she grabbed her Coke, careful not to let their skin touch. Even after all these years, she didn’t think she’d be able to handle that.

“I was sorry to hear about your grandmother,” Matt said, his sympathy reflected in his eyes.

She ignored the dull ache gripping her heart. “Thank you. I know she loved you like her own.” Damn, why did she have to go and say that? Now even more memories flooded her. Memories of her and Matt sitting at her grandmother’s table, drinking hot cocoa or making cookies, or planting flowers in the flowerbed on a warm spring day.

She wasn’t going to make it. Damn.

“Well, isn’t this nice?”

And, so it begins.

Jordan turned slightly as Stacey St. James sidled past her and ran a finger down Matt’s arm. He looked down at the stacked blonde-haired woman and gave a slow blink then looked right past her like he didn’t care, but he didn’t move when she linked arms with him.