Mountain Charm (4 page)

Angelina grinned at the officer.

“How are you doing, Jack?”

“Oh, can’t complain.”

Jack Prescott was biting his lip to keep from laughing. It was a habit Angelina had found cute during those three months they’d dated back in high school.

“You sure caused a commotion last night, didn’t you?”

“You know me, Jack. I’m protective of the things I love. My mom, my house, my dog—”

Dylan snorted. “It really pisses you off that your dog likes me, doesn’t it?”

“You have
no
idea.”

Maddie giggled as the two glared at each other. The sheriff maneuvered his way between them.

“Now, Angelina, you know you can’t be shooting at people . . .”

Would this be a good time to admit the gun wasn’t loaded?

“I didn’t shoot. I just . . . pointed it at him.”

Dylan muttered something about crazy hillbillies, which the sheriff ignored.

“Angelina, I talked to Celia this morning, and it seems she’s not opposed to Mr. Thomas writing his story. She made it very clear to me she wants you to cooperate with him.”

Dylan’s smile was smug.

“Don’t we all,” Maddie said, her voice far breathier than usual as her eyes ghosted over Dylan’s muscular frame.

Angelina groaned.

I am surrounded by traitors.

Jack gingerly touched her shoulder. “We both know your mama doesn’t need any extra stress right now. Maybe this will be good for her. It’ll give her something to focus on besides the chemo, you know?”

Dylan’s conceited grin was gone in an instant. “Chemo?”

Jack offered Angelina a sympathetic smile just as three girls walked into the store. The teenagers were giggly as they made their way over to the CD collection.

“No more guns,” the sheriff said quietly.

Too emotional to reply, Angelina nodded and left them standing there while she helped her customers.

“Dylan’s like a lovesick puppy,” Maddie said. “He’s just sitting next to the window, pretending to play with his phone, sneaking glances at you when he thinks you aren’t looking.”

“I’m
not
looking.”

“I know, and I don’t understand that at all. How can you
not
look at the man? So what if he was a little bit of a jerk? He’s from the city. He’s completely out of his element, and you have no valid reason for hating him except you’re scared to death his arrival proves the spell is legit.”

“No, I hate him because he showed up at my house after spending the day digging for dirt on me and my family.”

“That’s what reporters do.”

“Whose side are you on?” Angelina asked a little too loudly. Dylan’s head popped up, only to drop once again as he continued to scroll through his phone.

“Yours, always. Just talk to him, Ang.”

Angelina sighed. Maybe her friend was right. After all, the quicker he got his story, the quicker he’d be out of her life for good.

“The spell is not legit,” Angelina mumbled. “And even if it is,
he
is not my true love, Maddie. He just can’t be.”

Maddie laughed quietly. “Oh ye of little magical faith. I haven’t seen you that fired up in a long time. Sparks were
flying
.”

“That wasn’t sparks. That was intense rage.”

A customer asked for help with a fiddle, and Maddie promised she’d be right with him.

“It was good to get a glimpse of the old Angelina Clark. I’ve missed her. Now go talk to him and put him out of his misery.”

Maddie went to help the customer while Angelina tried to gather the nerve to go talk to the nosy reporter. Dylan was still sitting at the table next to the window with his eyes glued to his phone. Taking a couple of deep breaths, Angelina slowly walked toward him. He looked up, gave her a guilty smile, and shoved his phone into his pocket.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Angelina glanced over her shoulder and found Maddie smiling in encouragement. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the infuriating man. “I was wondering if you were hungry.”

Dylan looked surprised. “Hungry?”

Angelina nodded. “I thought we could grab something to eat at the coffee shop next door. They have great sandwiches and the best tea in Maple Ridge—if you like tea. If not they have coffee or soft drinks or . . .”

She was rambling, but he was staring up at her with those brown eyes, and for some reason, they were deeper and darker in the daylight.

Dylan smiled and quickly jumped to his feet.

“Lunch sounds great,” he said.

Dylan couldn’t believe she’d invited him to lunch. He knew it was nothing more than a peace offering at her best friend’s insistence, but he’d gladly take it.

The weather was nice, so they chose a table out on the sidewalk. Dylan ordered a turkey club while she chose the roast beef. They didn’t say a word throughout most of the meal, but more than once, he caught himself watching her. Everything about her fascinated him, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she was supposedly a witch. It was the subtle things. Like the passion in her eyes when she was angry, or the shape of her ass in those jeans.

“You look a little dazed,” Angelina muttered.

I am.

“And you’re staring.”

Dylan cleared this throat. “Sorry.”

Before long, the food was gone, and there was nothing else to do but talk.

Angelina sighed. “Listen, Dylan. I’m sorry about the gun.”

She actually sounded sincere, so he decided to play nice, too.

“I’m sorry for showing up unannounced.”

“It wasn’t loaded,” Angelina said, much to his surprise. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I have a bit of a temper.”

He grinned. “Oh, I’ve noticed.”

Angelina fidgeted uncomfortably and gazed out at the street. Dylan knew he had to gain her trust if he had any hopes of getting his article written. He wasn’t good at chitchat, but he needed to keep her talking.

“Did you always want to work in a music shop?”

“Not always. Growing up, I wanted to be a doctor.”

“Oh?” That wasn’t what he’d been expecting at all. “Are you still interested in medicine?”

“No.”

Her voice was firm and resolute, which assured Dylan there was a story there. However, he was smart enough to realize that now was not the time to dig too deeply.

Angelina looked at him. “What about you? Did you always want to be a journalist?”

“I always wanted to be a writer, but not necessarily for a magazine. It just kind of fell into my lap.”

Actually, his journalism professor had called in a favor. Being an editor for his university newspaper hadn’t opened a lot of doors for the recent college graduate. Dylan had planned to start at one of the local Nashville papers and maybe do some freelance on the side. Instead, he was writing for a lifestyle magazine called
Hidden Gems
, a publication devoted to finding Tennessee’s secret treasures. The job wasn’t terrible. He’d gone cave exploring in the Cumberland Plateau and visited a nature reserve in Chattanooga.

And now he was witch hunting in the Smoky Mountains.

“With a name like Dylan Thomas, how could you do anything
but
write?” Angelina asked, smiling at him.

He chuckled. “I know. My mom loves his poetry. She’s a literature professor at Vandy.”

“And your dad?”

“No idea. He and my mom split when I was young. I have no real memories of him, and we’ve never been in contact with each other.”

“That must be hard for you.”

Dylan shrugged. “Not really. I mean, how can you miss someone you’ve never known?”

“I guess that’s true.”

He could tell she couldn’t truly relate. Family seemed very important in this little mountain town, and especially to Angelina and her mom.

 “Your mom is a sweet lady,” Dylan said.

“Thank you. Yes, she is.”

“How long has she been sick?”

Her face paled, and he knew immediately it had been the wrong thing to ask.

Angelina balled her napkin into her fist before throwing it onto the table. “I don’t want to talk about that. I don’t really talk about it with anyone.”

“Not even with Maddie?”

“Maddie knows the basics. It’s just not something I can talk about with a stranger.”

The last thing he wanted to do was upset her.

“I understand. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Angelina said with a relieved smile. “But I will answer your questions about my family. It’s not my favorite topic—and Mom knows way more than I do—but I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

He felt triumphant, but he couldn’t enjoy the success. Not yet.

 “We don’t have to do that today,” Dylan said. “We can talk about whatever you like.”

“What if I don’t want to talk about anything?”

“Then we can just sit here.”

Angelina grinned. “You know, I’m not sure your editor will be happy you’re passing up an opportunity to interrogate me. Don’t reporters usually have a deadline?”

“We do, but there’s a little more flexibility with a human interest article like this one. These stories take massive amounts of research and travel, so they allow time for that.”

“So, what’s your deadline?”

“My editor didn’t really give me one.” That still seemed odd to him, but he hadn’t questioned it. The freedom was kind of nice. “I was actually assigned to a story that was going to send me rafting down the Mississippi River, but something changed at the last minute. Next thing I know, I’m being handed directions to Maple Ridge.”

Angelina laughed. “I can’t even imagine your disappointment.”

“Why would I be disappointed?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I would just assume a rafting trip would be more fun than doing witch research in the mountains.”

Twenty-four hours ago, he would have agreed with her. But now that they were actually having a civil conversation, he wasn’t too bothered by the fact that he was having lunch with a pretty girl who just might happen to dabble in witchcraft.

“I’m not disappointed,” Dylan said, his voice soft. “I admit, I wish you and I had met under better circumstances. You know, without the rifle pointed at my face.”

They both laughed.

“But no, Angelina, I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

A brief looked passed between them, leaving him reaching anxiously for his phone. He was in desperate need of something to distract him from the beautiful woman sitting across the table.

Suddenly, Angelina’s name was being yelled from across the street.

“Oh no,” she muttered under her breath.

A tall man crossed the street and headed straight to their table.

“Friend of yours?”

She sighed heavily and forced a smile as the man approached them.

“How are you, Kyle?”

“I’m great.” The guy’s eyes raked over her, and Dylan’s jaw tightened. “You’re looking good, Angelina.”

Irrational, consuming jealousy flooded Dylan’s veins as the two of them talked about nothing of importance. They’d obviously known each other for years, which Dylan was learning was normal in a small town like this one.

“Angelina, you should let me take you out to dinner on Friday.”

 “Sorry, I have plans,” she replied politely.

“What about next Friday?”

Dylan finally lost his patience. “She has plans every Friday.”

It was only then that Kyle acknowledged the other person at the table.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the one she has plans with on Friday.”

The two men stared, sizing each other up. Dylan knew he had no right, but the man obviously couldn’t take a hint.

Kyle snorted. “Seriously, Angelina?”

Angelina played along. “That’s right.”

“Well, if you get bored—”

“I won’t.”

The two men shot daggers at each other before Kyle finally walked away.

“Was that fun?” Angelina grinned.

“A little.”

The two of them shared a smile.

“Thank you, Dylan.”

He shrugged and felt the tension relax in his shoulders. “No problem. You didn’t seem particularly interested in him.”

“When I was sixteen, Kyle begged my parents for permission to take me to the movies. It was my first date, and they agreed, despite my father’s misgivings. Dad was right. Kyle was far more interested in feeling me up than watching whatever was on the screen.”