Wild & Hexy (31 page)

‘‘That’s right.’’

‘‘Then I assume you might be interested in something I saw out at the lake a couple of nights ago.’’

Annie’s heart rate picked up. ‘‘Like what?’’

‘‘A large amphibious sort of creature, bigger than an elephant, with a long neck and a triangular head.’’

Annie longed to have Jeremy here, but then again, he probably wouldn’t believe Isabel, either. ‘‘Yes, I would be interested.’’ She did her best to not show how much.

‘‘You’ve seen it, too, haven’t you?’’

Annie decided there was no point in pretending ignorance. ‘‘Yes. Twice.’’

‘‘What do you plan to do about it?’’

‘‘Ideally I’d like to get the story without ruining the town or jeopardizing the safety of the creature.’’

Isabel nodded. ‘‘That’s a tall order, chicky. You want fame for yourself but you want to keep things low-key for Big Knob and the Nessy. I don’t know if that’s possible. Something’s got to give.’’

Annie thought so, too. She’d spent part of her sleepless night trying to work out a solution. But until she had a picture that confirmed the existence of this thing, no solution was necessary.

Knowing that Isabel had seen the creature brought up a new possibility, though. ‘‘Is that why you made the trip from San Francisco? Did you come here to see whatever is living in the lake?’’

‘‘In a way.’’

Annie looked more closely at her. Maybe it was the long skirt and the peasant blouse, but suddenly she knew who Isabel looked like. ‘‘You probably haven’t noticed, but you look a lot like the bronze statue we have on the square.’’

‘‘Funny, isn’t it?’’ Isabel met her gaze. ‘‘And it’s not a square. It’s a pentagon.’’

‘‘Everyone knows that, but you can’t hold a Fourth of July picnic on the town pentagon.’’

‘‘I suppose not.’’

Then Annie realized something else. The symbol for Wicca was a five-pointed star with a circle around it. Big Knob was laid out that way, but there was no circle. Or was there? She remembered the walking path that linked each point of the star.

Nothing fit together yet, but she had a feeling it would if she could only put some time into research. Unfortunately, she had another story to file for the
Trib
and wedding activities that would suck every spare minute. But she was here now with Isabel, and she might as well take advantage of the moment.

‘‘What do you know about Wicca?’’ she asked.

‘‘A few things.’’ Isabel turned to a catalog and began flipping pages.

‘‘I’ve figured out that Ambrose and Dorcas are Wiccan.’’

‘‘Bully for you.’’ Isabel kept her attention on the catalog.

‘‘I’m betting you are, too.’’

‘‘Maybe.’’

Excitement churned in Annie’s stomach. She was on to something. ‘‘Somehow the lake monster ties into all this, but I haven’t figured out how.’’

Isabel looked up. ‘‘You’re the reporter. You figure it out.’’ Then she slid off the stool and walked out of the shop.

Moments later Gwen hurried in, a vase of yellow roses in her hand. ‘‘Where’d she go?’’

‘‘She left.’’ Annie took the vase from Gwen. ‘‘Let me buy these. My mother needs a lift.’’

‘‘Annie, you don’t have to do this. It won’t be the first time somebody stiffed me.’’

‘‘I want the flowers, okay? And as for the problem with the white roses, I say use your palest pink and she won’t even notice the difference. If she does, tell her it’s the light.’’

Gwen nodded. ‘‘That’s what I’ll do, assuming the white roses still look the same tomorrow as they do today.’’

‘‘Why wouldn’t they?’’

‘‘I don’t know, but they got that way overnight. Maybe they’ll go back to normal overnight, too.’’ She glanced at the front door Isabel had recently gone through. ‘‘What do you make of her?’’

‘‘Honestly? I think she’s a witch.’’

‘‘Hey, she’s not that bad. She’s actually kind of funny."

‘‘I’m not saying she’s not a nice person. I’m saying she’s Wiccan.’’

‘‘Wiccan?’’ Gwen scrunched up her face. ‘‘Is there really such a thing?’’

‘‘Oh, yeah.’’ Annie was becoming more convinced with every hour that went by.

‘‘I can’t believe Wiccans would be in Big Knob.’’

Annie decided not to mention her theory about the five-pointed star with the walking path around it. ‘‘Well, they are,’’ she said. ‘‘And I’m beginning to think they’ve been here a while.’’

Jeremy thought he was functioning pretty well on no sleep. He’d managed to keep everything running smoothly at Click-or-Treat plus run interference on several wedding issues. He’d stepped in and offered to pay for the wine that was becoming such a bone of contention for the rehearsal dinner. That allowed Bruce to tell Melody that it was taken care of and Bruce wasn’t paying for it.

Then he’d straightened out a misunderstanding with the Evansville DJ who’d been hired for the reception. The DJ had somehow come to the conclusion that he should play all Hawaiian tunes during the reception. Jeremy had recommended Top 40, some eighties classics and a few fifties numbers. The DJ could throw in an occasional Hawaiian tune if he felt the need.

Big Knobians would respond to ‘‘The Hawaiian Wedding Song’’ and ‘‘Blue Hawaii,’’ but that was about it. Hawaii was like a foreign country to them, and they would want the tunes they heard on the radio, tunes they knew how to dance to.

Jeremy was damned proud of himself for functioning so well, considering he’d tossed and turned all night. But then he’d faced his biggest challenge of the day. Annie came in to write her story about Clem Loudermilk and his famous bras.

She gave him a tentative smile as she walked in the door. He smiled back as if his heart wasn’t in shreds and his ego hadn’t been reduced to the size of a termite. He might be left with nothing else, but by God, he’d hold on to his pride.

‘‘How’d the interview with Clem go?’’ He was proud of his casual tone, which struck exactly the right note, as if they were old friends, not lovers who’d just broken up.

‘‘Very well. I have a picture of his first working model of the bra.’’

‘‘Is that the one he strapped on a life-sized statue of Venus de Milo?’’

‘‘That’s it.’’ She shifted her purse to her other shoulder. ‘‘Have you seen it?’’

‘‘No, not many people have. Sean built them a sunroom earlier this year, so he told me about it. He says there’s this marble reproduction of Venus in the corner of the living room, and she’s wearing a bra.’’

‘‘Yep. That statue wearing the bra is the focal point of the living room. The statue’s in this dark nook and he’s trained a couple of black lights on it so the bra seems to glow.’’

‘‘Yeah, Sean mentioned that.’’ Jeremy became aware that this wasn’t the greatest topic in the world. Thinking about bras made him think about Annie’s underwear, something he’d never have the pleasure of removing again.

‘‘I guess if you make several million dollars on something, you want a way to display it.’’

‘‘I suppose so.’’ Money wasn’t a good subject, either. It made him remember Dorcas and Ambrose, who were no doubt imagining how they’d spend all the tourist dollars they were about to earn.

She gazed at him as if she could read his mind, and maybe she could. He’d never been good at being inscrutable. Everything he thought showed on his face.

‘‘I need to get busy,’’ she said. ‘‘After this I’m making the place cards for the reception, and I have to get them done before the rehearsal this afternoon.’’

‘‘How’s Melody?’’

‘‘A pain in the butt. How’s Bruce?’’

‘‘Bruce is getting nervous, like most guys do the day before they get married.’’ But Jeremy knew that if he had the chance to marry Annie, he wouldn’t be nervous. He would be too busy dealing with extreme happiness to be nervous.

‘‘It’ll be good to get this over with.’’

‘‘Yeah.’’ He said that because it was expected of him, but he didn’t really think so. Once the wedding was over, he’d have no more reason to hang around with Annie. Much as it hurt to do that, he’d rather hurt than not see her at all.

‘‘I’ll take the terminal over there, the one beside your dog.’’

‘‘That’s fine. Want some coffee?’’ He’d been living on the stuff, so she might be in the same condition.

‘‘That would be great.’’ She walked over, stepped around Meg and sat down.

He decided to bring her a cookie, too. She looked thinner, probably the result of the way she’d starved herself this week. What a dumb thing to do, when she’d looked so gorgeous the day she’d arrived.

He set the mug of steaming coffee and the napkin with the cookie on it by her right hand. ‘‘On the house, by the way.’’

She glanced up from the screen, and there were smudges of weariness under her blue eyes. ‘‘You don’t have to do that, Jeremy.’’

His heart squeezed at the softness in her expression. She was heading for disaster with this lake monster business, and he had no idea how to stop it. At this point he had no proof of anything.

‘‘I like doing things for you,’’ he said.

Her gaze softened. ‘‘I know. You’re a good guy.’’

‘‘Annie, I—’’

‘‘I wish you’d stop being such a good guy. I wish you’d act like an SOB.’’ She swallowed and looked away. ‘‘And I really need to write this story.’’ She swiped at her eyes and turned back to the screen. ‘‘Thanks for the coffee.’’

‘‘Anytime.’’ He walked away, feeling helpless. There had to be something he could do to protect her from getting hurt. There just had to be.

The rehearsal wasn’t quite as painful as Annie had been afraid it would be, partly because there were so many people around. All the practice was focused on the processional because Melody couldn’t seem to get the pace right as she walked down the aisle with her mother. They ran through the recessional once, which was the only time Annie had to walk arm in arm with Jeremy.

During those necessary moments of body contact, she’d concentrated on the lake monster and Jeremy’s belief that Dorcas and Ambrose were greedy opportunists. That helped to keep the sizzle factor at bay when she touched him. Other than that, she did her best not to look at him at all. The slightest glance in his direction made her want to jump his bones.

How she could have become obsessed with him in such a short time was beyond her. Even Zach hadn’t affected her that way, and everyone had agreed he was hot. Zach had thought he was, too, which might have been part of the problem. Jeremy didn’t think he was hot, which made him all the sexier.

Wine was served at the Hob Knob during the rehearsal dinner, but Annie didn’t have much. The wine had to be poured into water glasses because the Hob Knob didn’t have any stemware, so consequently nobody could gauge how much wine they’d had and most of the wedding party got very happy except Annie and Jeremy. Annie pretended to sip with each toast, and she smiled until her cheeks hurt.

At last this particular ordeal was over, and she drove her tipsy mother and sister back home. About an hour later, as she crawled into her childhood twin bed in her old room upstairs, she heard a ping against the windowpane. Another ping followed, and another.

She walked over to the window and looked out to find Jeremy standing below, tossing pebbles at her window. The tail of his dress shirt hung out and his hair looked as if he’d been driving around town with all the windows down in his car.

She shouldn’t have been glad to see him, but she was. Her whole body was glad, responding with a flush of pleasure that tingled. Grabbing a terry bathrobe from a hook on the back of her bedroom door, she put it on over her nightgown and hurried downstairs.

By the time she opened the door and stepped bare-foot out on the cool painted surface of the front porch, he was on the steps, and he’d already taken off his glasses, as if he fully intended to kiss her. Her lips warmed at the thought.

‘‘Tell me to go away.’’ His voice sounded rough, almost angry. He crossed the short distance between them and stood inches away from her. ‘‘I have zero control over my need to see you, but you’re probably in better shape. So tell me to leave, and I will.’’

‘‘I don’t want you to go away.’’

With a groan he swept her up in his arms and covered her mouth with his.

He tasted of desperation, and she kissed him back so hard she would probably have bruised lips in the morning. She didn’t care, didn’t let up. Grinding her pelvis against his, she signaled she was ready, so ready.

Before long he’d untied her bathrobe and had both hands up under the hem of her nightgown. She climbed him like a firehouse pole, and he helped by cupping her behind and lifting her up against his erection.

Panting, he drew back from the kiss. ‘‘We can’t do this here.’’

She ignored the fact that they shouldn’t do this at all. Wanting him had eliminated all her good sense. She dragged in a breath. ‘‘There’s a hammock out back.’’

‘‘Someone might hear us.’’

‘‘We’ll be quiet.’’

‘‘We can try.’’ Hoisting her more firmly into his arms, he managed to get down the steps without dropping her.

‘‘I can walk.’’

‘‘No. You’re barefoot.’’ He staggered around the side of the house.

‘‘You’ll throw your back out.’’

‘‘Ask me if I give a damn.’’ He made it over to the large canvas hammock, which hung between two oak trees in a shadowy part of the yard. Somehow he’d managed to avoid the softball net where she’d practiced her pitching every morning.

He paused beside the hammock and struggled for breath.

‘‘You can put me down.’’

‘‘Not yet.’’

‘‘Second thoughts?’’ She thought she might die if he had second thoughts. She wanted him inside her. Five minutes ago wouldn’t have been too soon.

‘‘No.’’ He was still breathing hard. ‘‘Just figuring the logistics. It’s dark back here and I’ve never done it in a hammock.’’