Jessica
To banish bad luck, place an egg, still in its shell, in thy bathing water under a waning moon. Dispose of the egg far from home, or better yet near the home of thine enemy.
Goody Fletcher, Book of Useful Household Tips
“A lot of people don’t realize we’re married,” Billy was saying, “’cause Rosalie kept her maiden name.”
Derrick’s gaze on Billy narrowed. “I see.”
“Well, it’s understandable,” Billy went on. “The Hopkinses are kind of big deals around here. But so are the Walkers. Did you pass any signs on your way here from the city for Walker Hardware?”
Derrick shook his head. “Not that I recall.”
“You must have. Walker Hardware is my family’s company. That’s why our kids are Walker-Hopkins. We tried Hopkins-Walker, but Rosie thought it sounded like some kind of zombie. A Hopkins-Walker, you know?” Billy chuckled to himself. “Hey, we just got their new school photos. Do you want to see them, Jess?”
“Absolutely.” I couldn’t meet Derrick’s gaze. I knew he was right. I should have mentioned that Billy and Rosalie were married, like I should have mentioned that I’d seen Billy at the high school. But so many strange things had been going on, how was I supposed to know which ones actually mattered? “How are Elizabeth and Billy Junior doing?”
“Oh, they’re great.” Billy had whipped out his phone again. “Billy’s big game against East Harbor Middle School is coming up this weekend. We’re all going to cheer him on. And Lizzie’s loving being a freshman over at the high school. Did you know she’s going to be a Harvest Princess?”
“No, I didn’t. What exactly is a Harvest Princess?”
“Oh, it’s a little something that Rosie dreamed up to get local girls more interested in the Tricentennial. The ones who get picked will serve as promotional spokeswomen for the town during the celebration. You know, they’ll walk around the square, handing out pamphlets and stuff. Here, check out the kids.”
“Aw.” I looked down at the photos of mini Rosalie and Billy, posing for the camera in their school uniforms, and didn’t have to fake my smile. I was genuinely happy for Billy. He’d gotten what he’d wanted most in life. For that, I was grateful to Rosalie. She’d given Billy what I never could—or, more accurately, never wanted to—give him. “They look great, Bill.”
“Thanks. They’re amazing.”
Billy gazed at the photos a few seconds more—long enough for me to glance in Derrick’s direction, and see him narrow his eyes at me. I could tell exactly what he was thinking: Why didn’t you tell me?
But there was nothing I could do about it now, so I shrugged and looked away.
“Anyway, thanks for the offer,” I said, “but now is not the best time for me to go vehicle shopping.” The thought of wandering around Hopkins Motors and possibly seeing Rosalie again made me feel queasy. “I have to get back to my store.”
“I can drop you off there, Jess,” Billy said, eagerly. “That’s no problem.”
“That’s generous, Billy.” Derrick’s eyes were as bright and as shiny as twin diamonds. “But I’m going in that direction, anyway. I’ll take her.”
Billy looked concerned. “Hey, bro, no offense, but your car isn’t looking that great, either. I don’t know if I’d risk driving that thing. Your windshield is—”
“It will be fine,” Derrick said in a tone that caused Billy to quickly change the subject.
“You know, Jess,” he said, looking around the living room, “I really like what you’ve done with the place since your parents moved out.”
“Um. Thanks.”
What was happening? I’d told a seemingly down-and-out Derrick he could stay with me—merely because he’d been living in his rental car and there was a supernatural menace threatening my town which he’d sworn he could help us fight—and now he was appointing himself my chauffeur?
And what about that kiss?
Because it was one thing to be pretend-dating a handsome stranger you were mildly attracted to.
But it was quite another to be pretend-dating someone whose kiss made you feel as if you were being caressed all over by gentle waves of rain-scented lightning, and whose lips you now wanted to feel over the rest of your body.
Was this part of the curse—or whatever it was—on West Harbor? Would it go away as soon as the Bringer of Light and I broke it? Would Derrick?
Probably. Which was fine, because the last thing I needed right now was a romantic relationship.
“Well, we’d better go, then, Derrick, since I’m running late as it is,” I said, and lifted the tote I’d brought with me to the school and started toward the mudroom, where I intended to swap it out for something that did not contain crumbs from the now dented brownie container. “It was great seeing you, Billy.”
“Oh.” Billy looked crestfallen. “I’ll walk out with you.”
I managed a smile. “Great. Let me just go get my other bag.”
Unfortunately, I’d hardly been in the mudroom for a minute before I found myself with company.
“Why didn’t you tell me Rosalie Hopkins married your ex-lover?” Derrick kept his voice low enough that Billy, out in the living room, wouldn’t be able to overhear him.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you were going to tell Billy that we’re dating?” I whispered back. “And he’s not my ex-lover.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You two never slept together?”
“Of course we did. Not that it’s any of your business.” I bent to transfer my wallet, cell phone, and lipstick case from my tote bag into the slouchy crossover bag I intended to take with me to the shop. Derrick was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his body—and smell the fresh clean scent of the bodywash from the gym. Dammit. Why did he have to smell good, too? “But it sounds weird to call someone you went out with in high school your lover. Would you call your high school girlfriend your lover?”
He looked taken aback. “No. Because I didn’t have a high school girlfriend.”
“You didn’t?” I paused, surprised, in the middle of my bag swap. “Why not?” Then I gasped. Suddenly, everything made sense. “Oh my God. That other entity you work for—it’s the Catholic Church, isn’t it? You’re a vampire hunter. That’s why you didn’t have a girlfriend in high school. You were too busy slaying those demons you know so much about.”
He glared at me. “No, actually. I was homeschooled.”
“Homeschooled?” This answered Dina’s question of why she couldn’t find him on Classmates.com. “Oh. So I’m right. Your dad took you on demon hunting missions?”
“Again, no. I grew up on a farm.” He shrugged as if this was the most matter-of-fact, normal thing in the world. “My dad did need my help—but with the animals, not demons.”
“Oh.” He hadn’t said this with his normal cockiness, however. I got the sense that “helping with the animals” had been no walk in the park—nor had living with his father. He didn’t seem to have appreciated my vampire hunter crack, either. Had it hit a little too close to home? “Okay. Well, I didn’t mention Rosalie being married to my ex-boyfriend because it didn’t seem important . . . the same way it didn’t seem important to you to mention to me that you were going to pose in front of my ex as my fake boyfriend, then kiss me, even though I told you, barely an hour ago, that you can’t go around grabbing women like that without their permission.”
He frowned, seeming to give the matter serious thought. “Right. You did. And once again, I apologize. But I only did it to protect you. At the time, I really did think Billy might be possessed by a demon.”
“That is the single most ridiculous thing I ever heard.”
“Did you notice his teeth? And his skin? That can’t possibly be natural. Is it a glamour?” He glanced back to the living room. “It looks so real.”
I stared at him. “That’s called a fake tan and veneers, Derrick. Rosalie is into that kind of stuff. And Billy’s into Rosalie, which is why he goes along with it. But even Billy has his limits. Like, Billy would never consent to having a glamour spell cast over him. I doubt he even knows what a glamour is, or that Rosalie is a witch.”
Now Derrick stared at me. “She’s a council member of the WCW. How could he not know?”
“Because Rosalie doesn’t want him to know. And he doesn’t want to know. How do you not know about veneers and fake tans and asking women’s permission before touching them?” I shook my head. “Are you sure you’re not a vampire hunter? Or is it that you just didn’t have cable or Internet on the farm?”
“Yes,” he said, offended again. “Of course we did. What we didn’t have were any women.”
I stared at him, certain he was joking.
But when he only stared back at me, I realized no punch line was on its way.
“Wait. No women? Where was your mother?”
“She left.”
He said it simply, without any emotion. Still, I didn’t need extrasensory perception to tell that this was a sensitive subject. I could see that muscle leaping around in his jaw again. Stay away, it seemed to scream. Stay away from this topic.
Yikes. Message received.
“Okay,” I said, shaking my head some more while shouldering my bag. “Well, I can see that we’re going to need to watch a lot of reality television to get you up-to-date on your pop culture references. Are you really driving me to my shop? Because I don’t need an escort or bodyguard or whatever it is you think you are.”
“If anything, I would think that what’s gone on this afternoon between him”—he jerked his thumb in Billy’s direction—“and his wife has more than amply proven that you do.”
“Right.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll let you win this one. Tell me something, though. Have you always been able to do that thing with your fingers?”
“What thing with my fingers?”
“You know, that thing you did a little while ago to my knee. And then when we kissed—”
His gaze was as bright as a new moon over the Sound on a cloudless winter night. And it was focused on my lips, which was more than a little distracting—especially since I couldn’t seem to look away from his lips, either. “When we kissed, what?”
“When we kissed. . . .” It was impossible to remember what I was going to say when those lips, so full and expressive, were in view, and so tantalizingly close to mine.
“Jess?” Billy startled me by calling from the living room. “Sorry, but I have to head out now. Rosie just called. She needs me to pick up some almond milk on my way home.”
I tore my gaze from Derrick Winters’s mouth. “Be right there, Billy!”
Then I hurried from the mudroom, silently cursing myself. If this was what it was like to be the Chosen One, I’d be more than happy to be unchosen.