Kiss and Make Up (Bachelors of Buttermilk #3) (13 page)

“What are you saying?”

“That you are selling it for whatever you can get. It’s not like you need the money.”

Caitlin stood and picked up their trash, agitation all over her face. “It’s not about the money, Joshua, and who do you think you are? You can’t tell me what to do, and you certainly can’t waltz into town and demand that I sell my business.”

He stood and reached for her hand, feeling it shake. “Caitlin . . .”

“No. This is my theater.” She pulled her hand free, placing both on the stroller. “Time to go, girls . . .”

She started to push the stroller down the dock but stopped and turned around. “I don’t expect you to understand, but this is my one chance to change how everyone in this town perceives me, and I won’t give it up because of some silly ghost that likes to watch movies and play pranks.”

His eyes rested on her watery ones. Suddenly things
were
becoming clear to him. Caitlin’s motivation wasn’t to restore the theater; it was to restore her reputation. “Caitlin, no one’s going to think you’re a failure.”

She shook her head, obviously disagreeing. “Yes, they will. I can just hear the gossip at the Star Lite now. ‘Typical Caitlin Reynolds. Jumped into something that was way over her head.’” Sighing, she pointed to the girls. “Say good-bye to the kids.”

Josh came over to the other side of the stroller, bent down, and gave each daughter a kiss on her little forehead. Beyond both the personal and paranormal issues he and their mother were dealing with, he was starting to see how hard Caitlin was trying to prove she was more than the town’s spoiled, rich girl. He respected that.

“Come here.” He lifted her hands off the stroller and pulled her into a hug, feeling her arms holding him tighter than he suspected she would given their argument.

“I should get the girls home.” She let go of him and took a small step back.

“Let me talk to Aunt Sheila and my mom. Maybe they have some ideas on how we can convince your resident ghost to pick another place to haunt.”

That got a sarcastic laugh. “I’d recommend the Buttermilk Tavern.”

He tapped her chin, staring into her hazelnut eyes. “We’ll figure something out. I promise. Can I have the article? I’d like to show it to Aunt Sheila.”

“Sure.” She reached into her purse and handed it over. “I also have the photo of the woman. Do you want that, too?”

“Yes. I’d love to show it to my mom.” Josh took the framed photo from Caitlin.

Caitlin smoothed her ponytail. “I really am sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything. Losing it just now.” She sighed, slumping her shoulders. “Not breaking off my fake engagement.”

Yeah, he was still pissed about that, but he was beginning to realize they had bigger problems than a wedding that, deep down, he knew wasn’t really going to happen. “Tell you what. Why don’t we table that discussion for now? You and Adam will eventually break it off. Let’s not complicate things any more than they already are.”

Caitlin said okay without hesitation. Maybe she wanted to forget their kiss or that they’d almost had sex last night. His heart tightened at that thought.

“Well, I really should get the girls down for their naps. Say good-bye to daddy,” she said, pushing the stroller forward.

Josh chuckled, following them up the dock. “If they could do that then we would know they have some magic in their blood.”

“I guess we would,” she agreed. “I’ll see you later tonight?”

“I’ll see you tonight,” he assured her.

A few minutes later, Caitlin waved from her SUV. The responsible mother of three was a far cry from the spoiled beauty queen who once cruised around town in her flashy black BMW. He knew that. How could he help her see she had nothing to prove to anyone?

Josh turned toward the water, his gaze taking a smooth ride on a ripple back to shore. So their ghost had drowned in the lake the night before her wedding. Sure, that could explain the wedding dress she was wearing this morning and her wet hair, but there were bigger questions looming—

Did Mary bring back the enchanted blue mixing spoon all those years ago, and what did any of this have to do with Caitlin?

“
V
ery interesting
,” Aunt Sheila said, rocking in her living room recliner with her iced tea in hand. Josh had finished recapping today’s events for her and his mom. It took him forty minutes to recount everything, including his exchange with the ghost, but he wasn’t leaving until they offered him some advice.

Judging by their shell-shocked expressions, he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He reached over and grabbed a brownie that Aunt Sheila had brought in earlier. Man, he’d missed his aunt’s baking. “I’m sorry to dump all this on you both. I’m at a loss. I’m worried about Caitlin and the kids. If this ghost is as pissed off as she was this morning, there’s no telling what she might do.”

“And this is the second time you saw her?” his mother asked.

“Yes, and both times she was drenched. I’m sure she’s the woman in the article.” He looked down at the copy of the news story he’d shared with his mom and aunt. “It has to be her.”

“Have you suggested to Caitlin that maybe she should sell the theater?” Aunt Sheila asked.

“I did this afternoon, but she’s not interested in anything I say that would stop her from moving forward with its grand opening. Plus . . .”

“What?” his mom asked.

“I’ve been thinking about it. As far as we know from Josephine Williams, the ghost only made herself known and started destroying the place after Caitlin purchased the theater. If she is so preoccupied with Caitlin, who’s to say she doesn’t move to another dwelling like the cottage.” He shuttered at that horrible thought, recalling the terror he’d experienced firsthand when the blue mixing spoon had mysteriously made its way into Lily’s crib. “I’d rather keep the spirit contained to the theater until we know what to do with her.”

Aunt Sheila sipped her tea. “I’m apt to agree with you, Josh. You’re going to need some assistance in helping her cross over. Perhaps your mother and I could speak with her—find out if she is in fact our mother’s friend, and why she’s so infatuated with Caitlin.”

His mother stood, stretched her arms, and wiggled her fingers. Josh had to smile because he recognized instantly the
Make Men Blush
nail polish he’d sent last year to both her and Abby. “I’m ready to stretch my magic muscles. I’ve never spoken to a ghost, but there’s always a first time.”

“I’ll drive us.” Josh leaped up, desperate for someone else in his family to see the spirit. “We’ll need to swing by Caitlin’s and get the theater keys.”

Aunt Sheila remained in her seat and motioned for them both to sit back down. “Not so fast. Let’s recap what we’ve learned, shall we?”

They took their seats, and his mother grabbed the brownie plate, offering him another one. His mom could talk a good game, but it was really his aunt who was the more experienced witch. They definitely needed to follow her lead. If she wanted to talk some more, that’s what they’d do.

“First, this ghost could be the spirit of the woman we were led to believe was our mother’s imaginary friend from her childhood.”

“And like I said earlier, she nodded when I asked her if her name was Mary,” Josh added. “I’ll take that as admission that that is her name.”

Josh’s mother opened her mouth and closed it.

“What are you thinking, Mom?” Josh asked.

“Why would our mother lie to us all those years? There must have been a reason why she told us Mary was imaginary?”

Josh leaned forward. “Do you remember when you learned about the pink spoon?”

Aunt Sheila looked up at the ceiling, lost in thought. “I was twelve and, Jackie, you were six. You had an imaginary friend and I teased you mercilessly.”

“I remember that. You were horrible,” his mother said, adding, “which is why I invented Angie.”

Aunt Sheila chuckled. “Mom said having an imaginary friend was perfectly normal and that I needed to stop teasing you. It was then that she told me that she and her imaginary friend had created a spell that enchanted the pink mixing spoon. She said she’d performed the Batter Up spell for the first time when she was ten years old.”

Josh was trying hard to connect the dots. “So if Mary was real, she could have been a witch.”

“Yes.” Aunt Sheila set her iced tea down.

Josh looked over at his mom who was visibly rattled by that news. “Why do you think Grandma thought she was imaginary?”

Aunt Sheila reached for the photo Josh had pulled out earlier and studied it for a few seconds before answering. “Good question. Maybe she was protecting her from being exposed or maybe she didn’t realize she wasn’t imaginary.” She sighed. “My hunch is that our mother knew her friend was real, and if her last name was Reed, possibly a descendant of Adam’s. Tell me what the ghost said.”

“That Caitlin would marry Adam.”

“Maybe she’s prophesizing . . .”

Josh hated that theory. “Well, she’s f’ing wrong.”

“Joshua!” His mother shot him a warning to calm down.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to raise my voice. I just don’t want Caitlin or our kids near the theater, let alone in it.” He stood and started to pace. “You know what. I’m going to take them all to New York City. Have them stay with me for a while. I just need to convince Caitlin that it’s a good id—”

“Over my dead body.” His mother didn’t like that suggestion one bit. “You’re not taking my grandbabies away from me. If you take them to Manhattan, your father and I will never see them.”

“And, like you said earlier, Josh, who’s to say this ghost wouldn’t follow Caitlin,” Aunt Sheila said, adding, “No, there’s a reason that this ghost wants Caitlin to marry Adam, and I suspect, given she was in her wedding dress, it has something to do with her own wedding that didn’t happen.”

Raking his hands through his hair, Josh looked at his mother and then aunt. “Do either of you have a suggestion on how we get this ghost to admit what she’s up to because I’m all ears?”

Aunt Sheila picked up a tiny black cat figurine from her end table. “I do have an idea, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“
T
hey want
me to marry Adam. Are you kidding?” Caitlin stared at her margarita glass.

Josh glanced behind his shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. The Buttermilk Tavern was nearly empty, which made perfect sense since it was Monday. It would fill up soon with Emma’s bachelors who were currently at Batter Up night. “You can get it annulled once Mary crosses over.”

“And this was your aunt’s idea?”

“Yes.”

“And you agree with her?”

“Yes.”

“And your mother thinks this is a good idea, too?”

“She does.”

“Have you all gone insane?” That question prompted her to grab her glass and take a long swallow.

Josh had picked Caitlin up earlier and suggested they get a drink for this conversation. Since her parents had the kids for the night, she’d agreed to go for one.

When they’d grabbed two empty stools at the end of the bar, he’d noticed immediately that they were seated at the scene of the crime—the night of their infamous hookup.

Reaching for his beer bottle, he took a swig. “Aunt Sheila seems to think that once you two get married, Mary will cross over.” He lamely added, “Easy-peasy.”

Caitlin’s eyebrow shot up. “So
you
want me to marry Adam?”

“I bought you the dress, didn’t I?” he deadpanned, but instantly regretted that low blow. “Of course, I don’t want you to marry him, but I agree with my aunt that it might be something to consider.”

“I don’t understand. What does my marrying your best friend have to do with this ghost going over to the other side?” She rubbed her bare arms, and Josh could tell that just speaking about Mary was giving her the creeps. It made him edgy, too.

He reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He’d have to tell her everything if she’d ever agree to this plan. “When I saw Mary this morning, she wasn’t wearing her wool coat from the photograph. She was wearing a wedding dress.” He paused, lowering his voice, “It was the same one you had on.”

The color instantly drained from Caitlin’s face. Pulling her hand away, she straightened on her barstool. “Oh, my God. You’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me. The exact same dress? How is that even possible?”

He nodded. “I don’t know, but yes. I mean, hers was wet, and she had this glow, but it definitely was the same one.”

Caitlin grabbed her drink, tracing the rim with her straw and then sucked down what was left in it. “When were you going to tell me this?”

He hadn’t really planned on it. “I . . . um . . .”

“You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

“No,” he admitted.

“Well, so what if we were wearing the same dress? Creepy coincidence, that’s all.”

“It’s more than that.” He sighed. “Mary demanded that you get married.”

“What?” Caitlin shot off her barstool.

Josh motioned for the bartender for another round while Caitlin regained her composure, sitting back down. “Okay, Josh, this is seriously freaking me out. What did she say to you? Is it why you got so mad and stormed out of the theater? Why the hell would she care if I get married?”

“Good question. I don’t know, and that’s why Aunt Sheila wants you to go through with it. If the ghost thinks you are getting married, maybe we’ll learn why she’s so—”

“She’s so . . . what?” Caitlin demanded he finish.

He let out a deep sigh. “So interested in your marrying Adam.” There it was out in the open.

“Mary wants me to marry Adam?”

“Yep.”

“She said that to you?”

He reached for his beer, taking another drink. “Yeah, she was pretty adamant.”

Caitlin sat stunned. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Aunt Sheila seems to think that there is something deeper going on here. Some connection.”

“Between me and the ghost?”

He nodded and put his arm on her back, the feel of her sent a tingle straight up his arm. “Say the word and we’ll head to New York City. You can pack tonight, and we’ll leave with the triplets first thing in the morning.”

Her expression softened and she offered a brief smile. “You’d do that for us?”

“To keep you and our children safe, hell yeah, but there’s no guarantee Mary wouldn’t follow us there.”

Caitlin picked up her second margarita and took a drink. “And Sheila and Jackie’s suggestion, do you think it’s a good one?”

To have the woman he loved marry another man? Of course not, but it was the only plan they had. “I do.” Funny how those two words in this context felt like a dagger to his heart. “If it convinces the ghost to cross over, then yes, I think it’s a good plan.”

“I guess I’m getting married to Adam.” She laughed sarcastically and sipped her drink.

“What’s so funny?”

She set her glass down and turned on the barstool to face him. Her knees peeked out from her short denim skirt and were now touching his. “Do you remember the last time we were here?” she asked, pulling her long brown hair over to one side.

Of course he did.
His gaze locked with hers. “You asked me how much of you I could tolerate.”

“I bet you never thought I meant three kids and the ghost of a woman who drowned in the lake over seventy years ago.”

“No,” he conceded. “I did not.”

“Yeah, neither did I,” she said softly.

He studied her face. Her defeated expression split his heart. Maybe that night hadn’t turned out like either of them expected, but now they had three adorable, healthy babies. He wouldn’t go back in time and change what had happened between them for anything.

And the ghost, they’d deal with her starting tomorrow. Right now, he wanted to show Caitlin that their hookup last year had not been a mistake.

He pushed off the stool and reached in his back pocket, pulling out some cash and slapping it on the bar. “Let’s go.” He offered his hand and helped her off the stool.

“Where? Home?” Caitlin reached for her neon blue clutch.

“No, to the inn. Change of scenery.”

“Why are we going there?”

He grabbed her hand and laced his fingers through hers, giving her a big grin. “To see how much of me you can tolerate.”