The Cottage on Pumpkin and Vine (3 page)

Amelia and Cade were both looking at her now. Awaiting her answer on dating. She couldn't lie. Amelia knew her status. Dateless. She hated to admit as much to the moving man. He was too good-looking to sit home. He had to be sexually active.

“I date when I have time,” she finally hedged.

“Time gets away from her,” Amelia added.

“Work can take over, if you let it,” said Cade.

Enough said. They returned to their apple dumplings, and compliments flowed. “Killer dumpling,” Cade said.

“Delicious dessert,” came simultaneously from Grace.

“Seconds here, please,” requested Cade.

Grace debated. “No more dumpling for me, but a little more ice cream would be nice.”

Amelia rose, smiled innocently. “Food and sex, there's always room for seconds.”

Grace blushed, and her ears burned.

Cade blew off any embarrassment he might feel. He leaned back in his chair, said, “I like the way you think, Amelia. Philosophy for all occasions.”

“Old and wise and words to live by.” Amelia returned to the table. She set down their second round of desserts.

When Grace finished first, her thoughts returned to the decorations, and all they still needed to accomplish. The list was long. She nudged her godmother with her elbow. “One major item of importance, your crystal ball. In it futures are told and unfold in the blink of an eye.”

“I've never seen your crystal ball,” Cade commented.

“You've never attended her Halloween party,” Grace reminded him.

“Touché.”

“The ball is in my suite. I'll gladly give you a glimpse into the future once we've finished lunch,” Amelia said.

“Almost done.” He stretched out his long legs under the table, settled on his tailbone. He shook his foot, rotated his ankle, as if he'd sat too long. The movement caught the cat's attention. Archie's back arched, his tail swung, ready to pounce. A long lunge, and Cade stiffened. “Dude, I'm not a scratching post.”

“
Archibald Reginald Rose,
” Amelia called him by his full name. She clapped her hands. “
No!
”

Grace tipped on her chair, caught the action under the table. This was no sweet kneading from the Maine coon. He bared his claws on Cade's thigh, close to the man's groin. Cade inched back, avoided kicking the cat. His jeans were white-seamed and laddered. Archie swatted, then latched on to the loose, swaying threads. He tugged. Denim split, shredded, leaving a sizable hole.

No underwear for this man. A shift of his weight, and Cade flashed Grace. Not purposely, yet she got an eyeful. In that moment, she learned more about him than she ever needed to know. He tucked left. His sex, substantial.

She jerked, and hit her head on the edge of the table. She rubbed her forehead as she straightened. Archie had done his worst and now lay passively at Amelia's feet. The older woman hopped up, packed a Ziploc with ice. Hurriedly handed it to Grace. “Minor bump, but we don't want it to swell,” she said. “Did you see stars?”

“No . . . not stars.” Just Cade's package.

“Cade, I'm so sorry,” Amelia apologized. “Archie's usually so sweet. He loves string, ribbon, and, in your case, loose threads. Did he break the skin? I have antiseptic. A Band-Aid? I'll mend your jeans.”

Cade flattened his big hands over his groin and thigh and covered the tear. “No mending, no problem. My jeans are old and can be tossed. I have extra work clothes in my truck. I'll go get them and change.”

“The powder room on the first floor is private and available,” Amelia said.

“Thanks.” He stood, drew the shredded fabric over his thigh. Shifted his stance. His groin was level with the table.

Grace looked. She couldn't help herself. Visible skin, but no sign of his dick. She breathed easier, up until the moment Cade smiled. A sexy, knowing smile. He'd witnessed her curiosity, and found humor in her blush.

He leaned toward Grace as he passed her chair, and kept his voice low. “Now you see it, now you don't.”

He left the kitchen.

Chapter 2

C
ade had changed his jeans by the time Grace joined him in the living room. A relaxed fit, his work Wranglers were in slightly better shape than the previous pair, but not by much. No threads, however. He was safe around Archibald. The Maine coon trailed Grace, his ears twitching and his tail flicking. Amelia was close behind Archie.

Grace glanced Cade's way, met his gaze for a heartbeat, and then lowered her eyes to his groin, where she stared for a moment too long. Pink-cheeked, she looked away. She seemed more embarrassed over his torn jeans than he was. He hadn't planned for her to see his privates. But she had, and now she continued to check him out. She licked her lips. Full and moist. The action got to him. He could feel her taking him in her mouth. His jaw tightened.

They both swallowed self-consciously.

Both drew a breath.

Both moved on.

He crossed to the fireplace and admired the stonework while she concentrated on the vintage sofas and chairs. He listened as she spoke to Amelia. He was part of the decorating team. Whatever Grace said affected him, too. Miserable as that might be.

“I plan to push your furniture against the wall, then cover and protect each piece with thin, clear plastic,” Grace explained. “I don't want your antiques to be damaged by spilled food or drink. And I don't want people to just sit, I'd prefer they mingle. I'll strategically seat life-size scarecrows and skeletons around the room. Great decorations to start conversations.”

Amelia nodded her approval. “The crowd will be larger than last year. The cottage will be bursting at the seams.”

“I've hired Butch Barnes for crowd control,” said Grace.

Cade looked at her questioningly. “The bouncer at the Thirsty Raven?” The man was built like a brick. Yet when he stood in the shadows, still and silent, he seemed invisible.

“Just as a precaution,” Grace said. “There won't be any liquor served at the party. Still, it will be nice to have him here in case someone gets rowdy. You don't always know who's who in costume. He separated Zorro and Kool-Aid Man last year when both wanted to walk Dorothy down the yellow brick road.”

“Butch circulated, talked to everyone,” Amelia said. “He had a good time. He was dressed as Yogi Bear, and few recognized him.”

One corner of Cade's mouth curved. “What will Butch wear this year?”

Grace touched her lips with her fingertip, as if sharing a secret. “A gingerbread man outfit. That's confidential.”

Cade chuckled. “Not a word, swear.” It would almost be worth attending the party to see Butch as a big decorated cookie.

Grace began pacing the room. Pausing, contemplating. “My store assistant, Kayla, will stand just inside the front door dressed as a cowgirl. She'll greet your party guests and hand out chocolate marshmallow ghosts to young trick-or-treaters.”

“What about Archie?” Cade was concerned for the cat. The Maine coon now wound about Grace's ankles, back arched, seeking attention.

Grace bent and ran her fingers along the cat's back. Cade had the unexpected sensation of her running her fingers over him. Along his shoulders. Across his chest. Down his zipper. A smooth, steady stroke. An arousing squeeze. His sex stirred, subtle yet significant.

Damn. Up until now, they'd been cordial, but distant. Just passing acquaintances. Today, his dick wanted to know her better. He shifted, turned away from the women. Then leaned against the antique upright piano. The sheet music for “Shine On, Harvest Moon” was propped on the music rack next to a vintage metronome.

He felt Grace's eyes on him as he looked everywhere but at her.

“Amelia and I have decided that Archibald should stay in her bedroom during the party,” said Grace, straightening. “He'll have a guest, too. Dooley, the neighbor's kitten. They'll keep each other company.”

“Archie's good with kittens?” Cade was surprised. Thirty-five pounds of Maine coon could squish a tiny kitty.

“He's very gentle with Dooley,” Grace assured him. She pointed to the fireplace mantel. “Third framed picture on the right, you'll see them together.”

Cade scanned the photo gallery. He immediately smiled. A gray kitten was draped over Archibald's neck, all playful with pinprick-sharp teeth, biting the big cat's ear. Archie lay there, passive, unaffected. “A very patient guy,” he praised.

Archibald's purr was deep and loud, as if he understood. He sprawled across Grace's feet. Her boots were completely hidden beneath him. She wasn't going anywhere for the moment.

Grace didn't seem to care. The party was foremost on her mind. “The caterer would like to use your sideboard buffet for the skull platters, raven plates, and broomstick-style forks. The florist will provide a bouquet of black roses. The cauldron punch and batwing cups will go on the dining room table.”

“Menu?” Amelia requested. “We'd discussed finger food last week. What did you finally decide?”

Grace ticked off the items. “All the food is easy to eat while standing,” she assured Amelia. “Chicken-witch fingers, miniature goblin burgers, chocolate crescent witch hats, ghost sugar cookies, pumpkin Bundt cake, sliced caramel apples, small popcorn balls, and a big bowl of candy corn.”

Amelia nodded. “Great choices. Something for everyone. Works perfectly for me.”

Cade silently agreed. He was well aware of Grace's talents. She'd thrown a discounted Snow White–themed birthday party for his niece in June. Spring had been tough on his brother. Raydan had lost his job to downsizing. Despite his dwindling finances, he hadn't wanted to disappoint his daughter. Grace cut Ray a deal. She hadn't skimped on much, from what he'd seen.

Cade had promised to stop by toward the end of the festivities, and he had kept his word. Sara was dressed as Snow White. Seven of her friends were costumed as dwarfs. Grace was the evil witch. A touch of theatrical putty shaped her pointed nose and chin. She cackled, offering shiny red apples to the small guests. Shrieks and giggles rose around her as the kids scattered. There'd been games, prizes, and backyard amusements.

Sara had taken Cade's hand and led him outside as the party wound down. “Heigh-Ho,” the dwarves' marching song to and from work, played on tape. The two crawled into the castle bounce house. A snug fit for him. He'd tucked his head to his chest, bounced. He'd gone on to eat a big piece of confetti cake. Sara had had the time of her life.

Grace at work was a sight to behold. He presently witnessed her eye for detail firsthand. She threw herself into her job, and was good at it. His heart, on the other hand, hadn't been in the work. He'd been dragging his feet. Wishing to be anywhere but at the cottage. He sucked it up, and forced himself to be nicer. He gave her his undivided attention.

Grace turned to her godmother, said, “The crystal ball and tarot cards? Where had you planned to sit while you tell fortunes? Someplace visible, yet safe.”

Amelia's gaze swept the room. “Let's set up a table at the corner of the sideboard buffet. Everyone will pass by the food. That gives me a chance to greet them and offer a glimpse into their future, should they show interest.”

“Perfect. We'll use the small marble-top table and cover it with a lacy cloth,” Grace suggested. “Should a line form for readings, it can wind down the hallway toward the kitchen, out of the way. I'll keep an eye out so the caterer has room to replenish the food.”

“You'll be as busy during the party as you are setting up beforehand,” Cade noted of Grace.

Amelia gazed fondly on her goddaughter. “She runs on anticipation and adrenaline.”

Grace's lips pursed. “Somehow it all comes together. Even last minute. Afterward, guests have had such a good time, they hurry to reserve their costumes for next year.”

“I'd like to show Cade the crystal ball, since he won't be at the party,” said Amelia.

Cade shifted uneasily. “Don't go to any trouble.” He wasn't into Halloween. The metaphysical creeped him out.

“It will only take a minute.” The older woman walked quickly to the back of the cottage, to her innkeeper suite, returning moments later with a square velvet box and an ornate silver stand. She set the box on the marble-top table, opened the lid, and revealed a flawless crystal sphere. She removed the ball and placed it on the stand. It sparkled, casting rainbow prisms onto the Oriental rug. She took a step back and motioned Cade forward. “Take a peek, if you like,” she invited.

He hesitated, not wanting to offend Amelia. “I, uh—”

“Are afraid to see your future?” Grace asked.

He shook his head. “Not afraid.”

“Don't believe in visions?” Grace again.

He shrugged. “I doubt I'd see anything.”

“You won't know if you don't look.” Pushy Grace.

There'd be no looking, not on his part anyway.

Amelia took pity on him. “The crystal ball is a novelty to some, while others seek answers. Perhaps you'll take a look later?”

Cade made no promises. “We'll see,” he said, keeping his response open-ended.

“I'll take a look now,” said Grace. She wiggled her toes, and Archibald rolled off her feet. The cat beat her to the table. His back arched, his ears flicked, and his tail swished. He gave Cade a Cheshire cat smile. Archie was full of mischief.

Cade watched as Grace tucked her hair back, then gazed into the crystal ball. He blew a short breath. He could care less what she saw. Minutes passed, and nothing happened. He was ready to suggest they return to work, when the sphere misted, clouded, turned a swirling gray.
What the—?

He blinked, certain his eyes played tricks on him. Grace was a believer. She stared intently. Her gaze soon widened and her lips parted. Her breath hitched.
What did she see?
he wondered. His curiosity got the better of him. He angled for a better look. The gray mist disappeared before he could glimpse the image. The sphere was again clear and sparkling.

Grace and Amelia now shared a look. Amelia arched an eyebrow, and Grace shrugged. “A man's hands,” she said so softly Cade barely heard her. “I'm not sure I understand.”

Amelia's smile was slow and sage. “Interpretation comes with time. It's often unexpected.”

“I'm in no hurry,” said Grace. She turned toward Cade and asked, “Back to the yard?”

He nodded. He was more than ready to return outside. Unable to resist, his gaze was drawn to the crystal ball one final time. A hint of gray beckoned him to look deeper. He refused. Should he happen by the table later in the day, perhaps he'd take a peek. Just not right now, with Grace and Amelia looking on. He rolled his tongue inside his cheek and wondered if everyone who stared into the ball received a vision.

Amelia read his mind, which left him uneasy. “Images materialize when change is imminent or important decisions must be made.”

Neither concerned him. His life was steady, secure, on track. He assessed and concluded on his own, and hadn't faced a major decision for a long time. He was his own man, and didn't need a quartz sphere to guide him.

He reached the door, held it for Grace. She passed ahead of him. Pausing on the porch, she noted, “Your crew deserted you.”

They damn sure had. Not a surprise, but still disappointing. He'd have a word with his cousins tonight. They'd show tomorrow, if he needed them.

Grace assumed, “They didn't like taking orders from a woman.”

“We've worked for women over the years. Not an issue.”

“It was me, then.” She'd figured it out on her own. “I pushed too hard, didn't I?”

He was honest with her. “We're good at moving. Ask us once, and it's done. Ask us twice, we slow down. You rode our asses. My crew quit for the day.”

“You stayed.”

“For Amelia.”

“I'm guessing you would have left, too, if she hadn't invited you to lunch.”

“I'd have returned. We have a contract.”

“Amelia said you'd keep your word.”

“She did, huh?”

“I sought her advice on a moving company. She recommended you.”

“I'll have to thank her.” There were other movers in town. He appreciated the work, even though it involved Halloween. He could tolerate Grace for thirty-six hours. She had decorating down to a science. The sooner they got back to work, the sooner he'd wrap up. “What's next?” he asked her.

“My apology.”

That surprised him. “Accepted.”

She sighed. “I'll try not to be bossy.”

“I won't roll my eyes.”

She held out her hand. “Deal.”

They shook. Her hand was small, soft, and got lost in his larger one. He held it a beat too long. Until she pulled back, confusion in her eyes. He raised both hands in question. “Something wrong?”

A man's hands.
Her vision in the crystal ball. Grace eyed his palms. Big and rough. A scar ran the length of his right thumb. A flick of his wrist, and she saw the broken and bruised nail on his left index finger. She worried her lower lip. Surely she was mistaken. He wasn't the only man she knew with work-worn hands. She refused to read more into his palms than was actually there.

She found her voice, assured him, “Everything's fine.”

“Let's do it then.”

She startled. Shivered. “Do what?” Her thoughts were unexpectedly sexual. A first for her.

He side-eyed her. “Tree lights, spiderweb, what did you think I meant?”

Her cheeks heated. She spun away from him, nearly missing the top step in her escape. Cade grabbed her upper arm, saving her from a nosedive. “Stay where you are,” he said. “I'll get the roll of gauze.” He hopped off the porch and headed for her Town and Country minivan, packed with the majority of the decorations.