Mountain Charm (12 page)

She needed a counter offer.

“I think you should let me shoot them for you.”

Dylan grinned. “No way. I want to earn my kisses—fair and square.”

Angelina sighed resignedly and watched as he placed his feet at the line. It was ridiculous, she thought, relying on some stupid three-point shot when, clearly, they both wanted this kiss to happen. The probability of him making this basket was about as good as Angelina winning the lottery.

Dylan eyed the goal, gave the ball two forceful bounces, and tossed it into the air. For the first time, his follow-through was perfect, and his jump wasn’t awkward at all. It was strong, graceful, and flawless.

And it was nothing but net.

All she could do was stare at the goal with her mouth wide open as the ball rolled away.

“By the way, did I mention I set a state record for the most three-pointers scored in a single high school game?”

Bench warmer, my ass.

“Dylan Thomas, did you just hustle me?”

Grinning, he shrugged and moved closer. Angelina shivered when he touched her cheek.

“Did you really like the daisies?” he asked softly.

“I loved them.”

He trailed his finger along her bottom lip.

Boldly, Angelina reached for the back of his neck and tugged him closer, pulling his lips to hers. Dylan groaned and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding on tightly as he carried her away from the court. Their mouths remained connected, even when she felt her back being pressed against something solid and cold.

It had to be the metal shed. The house was too far away.

Angelina’s body tingled, desperate to have his hands and lips on every single part of her. The mere thought made her moan, which only encouraged him to kiss her harder.

She had never felt so desired.

Dylan buried his face against her neck while she clung to him. His strong arms held her against his chest, murmuring her name against her skin as he trailed his lips along her throat.

Dylan lifted his head, and his scorching gaze met hers. Tenderly, he kissed the tip of her nose and along her cheek, until his lips found hers once more. This kiss was slower and sweeter, and they tasted and teased as their breathing returned to normal.

Dylan kissed her one last time before lowering her to the ground. Angelina’s legs nearly buckled, and his smile was smug as she grabbed on to his shoulders for support.

“Proud of yourself?”

Dylan grinned. “Best basketball game ever.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” she replied, smiling up at him. “I learned the most fascinating things about you.

“Oh yeah? What was your favorite?”

Angelina began to sing the lyrics of Ariel’s song from
The Little Mermaid
, and Dylan’s eyes flashed with a mixture of laughter and excitement.

His voice was soft and low. “As if you aren’t sexy enough in your Bon Jovi shirt and your tiny shorts, now you’re singing to me? It’s no wonder I can’t control myself. How could I possibly resist you?”

She sighed softly when he kissed her forehead. His words made her heart ache, because she knew resisting was hopeless. His feelings were overwhelming and uncontrollable because that’s how the spell was intended.

It was cruel and unfair, to both of them.

And Angelina was powerless to stop it.

“Good morning, Angelina,” Maddie sang as she breezed into the shop. “Isn’t it a beautiful morning? The birds are singing, the sun is shining . . .”

Maddie had always been one of those irritating early birds who genuinely loved waking up at the crack of dawn, so this level of enthusiasm didn’t alarm Angelina. What did concern her was the dreamy look on her best friend’s face.

“I thought you were taking the day off?”

 “I am, but I have
so
much to tell you!”

Angelina bit back a jealous groan. “Is this about sex? Because if so, you can spare me the details.”

“Look!” Maddie thrust her left hand in Angelina’s face, and there, on her ring finger, was a sparkling diamond.

Angelina gasped. “You’re engaged?”

“I’m engaged!”

With a smile as bright as the sun, Maddie told her all about Nick’s sweet proposal and their plans for a quickie wedding.

“When we were kids, you always said you wanted a fancy ceremony. We can’t possibly get everything planned in just a month.”

“A big wedding doesn’t seem so important anymore. Life is just too short. You know that better than anyone.” Maddie smiled wistfully and sighed. “I just want to be his wife. I want us to be in the same house, in the same town, for as long as we both shall live.”

“Oh, Maddie, I’m so happy for you!”

Maddie was bouncing. “You’ll be my maid of honor?”

“Of course!”

They hugged, and when Maddie pulled away, Angelina couldn’t help but notice the sudden frown on her friend’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s something else I have to tell you,” Maddie said quietly. “Nick’s been offered a job with a trucking company in Atlanta. He’d still be on the road, just not as much, and it will be local runs. It’s a fantastic opportunity for him, with steady pay and stable hours.”

Angelina’s heart clenched.

“You’re moving away?”

Maddie nodded. “That’s another reason we’re getting married so soon. I’m already calling chapels in Gatlinburg, trying to get us booked. We won’t even have time for a honeymoon before he starts his new job.”

It wasn’t as if Angelina had expected them to grow old and gray together in Maple Ridge. Maddie was a free spirit and had always dreamed of traveling the world. Atlanta wasn’t exactly a tropical paradise, but it was a start. Nick was a good guy, and she deserved to be happy. Still, Maddie was leaving, and for a selfish moment, Angelina wondered how she’d ever live without her best friend. They’d been together since they were kids, and Maddie had stood by her side during the whole mess with Adam and through the agony of her dad’s illness and his death. Maddie had been Angelina’s anchor through so many storms, and now she was moving away.

Maddie watched her friend closely, her eyes wide and hopeful as she gauged Angelina’s reaction.

This is not the time to be selfish
, Angelina told herself, so she swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back her tears.

“So, when are we looking at dresses?”

Maddie beamed.

When Angelina arrived home, she was surprised to find her mom lying on the couch. A protective Cash was standing guard by her side. Angelina kneeled next to the chair. “Mom? Are you feeling okay?”

Celia sighed and opened her eyes. “Just a little nauseated and weak today. I’m sorry I haven’t started dinner—”

“Don’t apologize,” Angelina said softly, adjusting the damp washcloth against her mom’s forehead. This was part of the process, and they both understood that. Good days. Bad days. Times when she felt like she could run a marathon and others when she couldn’t drag herself out of bed. Angelina knew they had been lucky with the vomiting and fatigue so far, but it still broke her heart to see her mom so frail and exhausted.

Celia didn’t like to take the anti-nausea pills Dr. Campbell had prescribed. She preferred to use peppermint extract or ginger root to combat the nausea that almost always accompanied her chemo treatments. That evening, however, when Angelina offered to get the medication, her mom didn’t put up a fight. Fighting back her tears, Angelina helped her mom to her bedroom and stayed by her side until Celia drifted off to sleep.

Dylan finally organized his notes and emailed them to Steve, his editor at the magazine. Luckily, Steve was impressed with his thorough investigation, but Dylan grew nervous when the word
deadline
began creeping into the phone conversation. They didn’t settle on a date, which was fine for the moment, but Dylan knew the clock had officially started to tick.

Steve would give him a deadline.

Soon.

To be honest, Dylan had plenty of information to write his story. He’d talked to dozens of people and had seen and heard enough to know that there were, indeed, witches in Maple Ridge. He could probably write an entire book about Abigail Rose, but his magazine wanted a story about Appalachian folklore and present-day witchcraft in the hills. While he had more than enough details to write a lengthy article about Angelina and her mother, he couldn’t deny that his heart just wasn’t in it.

Still, he continued his research. Shirley, the librarian, had given him his own table in the nonfiction section where the folklore books and journals had taken up permanent residence. He was currently studying Appalachian potions and enchantments—and most of it was pretty ridiculous—but when the librarian mentioned a love spell, Dylan’s inquisitive ears perked up.

“Love spell?”

“Originally conjured by Abigail Rose,” Shirley said. Dylan grinned at the note of reverence in the elderly woman’s voice. He heard it all the time. To the people of Maple Ridge, Abigail was still considered a saint. “Nathaniel Rose was a boozing womanizer who abused his wife. Remember what I said about his death?”

Dylan checked his notes on his laptop. “Liver failure, right?”

The librarian nodded. “Abigail claimed he’d accidentally eaten poisonous mushrooms while out hunting, but many believed she’d just grown tired of the nightly beatings and her husband’s philandering ways. A distant cousin claimed that Abigail had crumbled a little mushroom into her husband’s stew. Of course, no one knows for certain, but Nathaniel died three days later.”

Interesting.

“So what does that have to do with a love spell?”

Before she could answer, a group of school-aged kids rushed into the library. Shirley headed to the checkout counter while Dylan flipped through the book of spells, searching for any information about Abigail’s love charm.

The noise in the library quickly became deafening, so Dylan gave up. With a tired sigh, he closed his laptop and waved to the librarian before heading to his vehicle.

Dylan planned to ask Angelina about her grandmother’s supposed love spell, but when he arrived at the house and found Angelina crying on couch, his research was immediately forgotten.