Chapter 35

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Holly glared at her reflection in the mirror. “Why is it that every time you walk into my room with an armful of clothing, I know I’m going to hate the end result? And why is this skirt so damned short?”

“It’s called a sexy witch costume, Holly. Don’t you know anything?”

Holly looked over the cheap black costume with the jagged, thigh-high hem and long, draping sleeves. Missy had planted a large purple hat with a plastic spider on the brim on top of Holly’s head. “Why do you have so many witch costumes?”

Missy was wearing a pair of black fishnet stockings with knee-high boots and a similar Halloween store costume and hat. “Because I know how to have fun on Halloween,” she answered, leaning past Holly to check her black lipstick in the mirror. “Where’s Winter? I have another costume for her on the bed.”

“Yeah, she walked by and took one look and beat it.”

“That girl! We’re twins and I still don’t understand her. Come on—let’s see how the aunts are getting along. I spotted Aunt Rose pulling fake spider webs out of the Halloween decoration box down in the cellar.”

Holly felt ridiculous as she followed Missy downstairs, where her two aunts stood chatting with Connor and Erikson in the living room. The aunts were dressed head to toe in black and had stretched fake spider webbing over their shoulders and into their hair. A plastic cauldron that they used for Halloween candy was tucked underneath Aunt Daisy’s arm.

While the two Grimm brothers were occupied, Holly had an uninterrupted moment to study them. Erikson was broad shouldered, with sun-touched hair and lake-blue eyes that occasionally probed the room as if he were a treasure hunter and knew there was gold hidden somewhere. He must’ve been a Viking in another life, Holly thought. Other than their strong chins and the way they could focus with unnerving intensity, Holly found very little resemblance between Connor and his brother.

Connor was listening to Aunt Rose talk with the single-minded concentration that made the recipient of his attention feel like the only person in the world. His eyes were on Aunt Rose’s face, his body turned toward hers as he absorbed every single word. His hair was mussed, and he hadn’t shaved in two days—the result being enough dark scruff to make Holly’s mouth water. He’d pulled on a black North Face sweatshirt to combat the evening chill, and Holly was jealous of his jeans and work boots. She glanced down at her skimpy “witch” outfit and scowled again.

Charismatic and intense, Connor was unlike any man Holly had ever known. She thought she could spend years with him and never tire of his insatiable curiosity and even more insatiable appetite in bed. He was unfailingly kind and thoughtful, but perhaps more than anything else, he’d accepted her for exactly who she was. There had been no hesitation, no period of time where he had to convince himself he wanted to be with her despite her being Wicked. He’d accepted the news without a bat of the eye and then had proceeded to show her how little it bothered him by making love to her. Holly suspected there were very few men like Connor Grimm in the world.

Aunt Rose finished her story and Connor turned to her, although she had the feeling he’d sensed her there all along. The moment his eyes met hers, she felt a burst of belonging so strong it took her breath away.

Shit. This guy was going to break her heart after all.

This was exactly why she never threw caution to the wind. Because then big, sexy, intense ghost hunters came along and made you fall in love with them right before they left you forever to go chase spirits.

The blood drained from Holly’s cheeks. In love? Had she just thought herself in love with Connor Grimm? No. That was impossible, because she would never fall for a man she couldn’t have, because that would be stupid, and Holly had already established that she was not stupid.

Connor grinned at her, his teeth a flash of white against the darkness of his scruff, and Holly almost collapsed in dismay. She was stupid! Somehow, despite all of her reassurances that she was perfectly capable of keeping things between them casual, she’d fallen in love with Connor Grimm.

In full panic mode, Holly plastered a wide smile on her face and shouted, “Are we ready?”

She and Connor left the room last. As soon as the others’ backs were through the door, Connor wrapped an arm around her waist and nuzzled into her neck. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing!” she said cheerfully. Too cheerfully. Holly was never that peppy.

He planted a soft kiss just below her ear. “Liar.”

“Maybe I’m worried this won’t work and Councilman Miller won’t show his face.”

“Maybe. But you aren’t.”

Holly shut the door behind them and said, “What makes you think you know me so well?” It came out a little pissier than she’d intended, and Connor’s brows lifted in surprise. Holly pushed off his arm. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

He bounded down the steps after her, easily catching up with her urgent stride. “What’s the matter with you?”

“With me?” she asked, whirling around on him. “What’s the matter with me? I don’t know, Connor. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m sleeping with a guy who’s leaving as soon as his filming wraps up.”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m an idiot, that’s all. I’m an idiot.”

“For sleeping with me?”

No. For loving him.

Holly sighed, the wild panic slowly bleeding into resignation. “Let’s go.” She wasn’t truly angry with him. He’d been nothing but honest about his show being the most important thing in his life. She’d known that, and she’d still decided to be reckless with her heart. She had only herself to blame.

They continued into the orchard, both lost in their own thoughts. The sun had sunk behind the horizon, leaving soft red streaks in the otherwise darkening sky. The first few stars had popped into view, and the mosquitoes were buzzing in delight at the banquet of human flesh. Fresh-cut grass and hay mingled in the air and Holly breathed in deeply. A mosquito went up her nose.

“Gahh! Missy, can’t you kill the mosquitoes,” Holly complained when they’d caught up with the group. “We’ll be lucky if we aren’t bloodless corpses by the time we get the fire going.”

“Winter yelled at me last time I did that, and said I was depriving dragonflies of food. She also said a bunch of stuff about collapsing ecosystems and doomsday, but it was kind of boring so I didn’t pay attention.” Missy shifted the armful of brooms so she could see Holly better. “Where is Win, anyway?”

“I don’t know. Use your twin intuition.”

“Snippy, snippy. You know that’s not a thing we have.”

They reached the small clearing where they’d had their summer celebration, and while the brothers tossed brush from the pile into the pit and started the fire, Missy handed out broomsticks to Holly and the aunts.

“Remember, we’re going to say, ‘Hocus-pocus, I’m a witch; stew that frog and curse that bitch.’”

“I am not saying that.” Aunt Daisy sniffed as she settled into the camping chair Connor had set up for her before tending to the fire.

“No one in this family is any fun,” Missy complained. She stuck the broomstick between her legs and began galloping around the Grimms as if she were a child with a horsehead stick. She threw her head back and cackled in her best imitation of a wicked witch, and Holly couldn’t help but laugh. Missy was good for them. They’d be a sorry lot of stern Wickeds without her. She supposed she should tell her that some time.

By the time the fire was roaring and popping and licking at the night sky, it was nearly black out, and even the fireflies had settled into stillness. The smoke cleared away most of the mosquitoes, but Holly was already itching like crazy from dozens of earlier bites. She and Connor hadn’t spoken much, but she felt his thoughtful gaze on her more often than not. She knew if they were alone, he’d weasel the confession out of her, and she didn’t think her ego could handle telling him she loved him, only to watch him walk away.

“Well, we can’t wait forever for Winter,” Missy finally declared. Her head cocked. “Oh, maybe I do have twin intuition. I sense she’s coming.”

“Or you heard that branch snap just as I did,” Holly said dryly.

A moment later Winter appeared in the small radius of light. She was wearing black jeans, a black sweatshirt, and a black baseball cap.

“Baseball cap does not say ‘Witch.’” Missy plucked a witch hat out of the jumbled supplies on the ground and held it out to Winter. “Can you imagine Stacy wearing that ugly baseball hat?”

“Stacy wouldn’t be caught dead in any of this,” Holly pointed out.

Missy scowled. “It’s true. That stupid Witch is a clothing designer’s wet dream. Even her brothers walk around like fashion gods. Next time, I want to be born a Witch. They have all the fun.” Missy shoved the hat toward Winter. “It’s the least you can do since you decided to dress like a burglar.”

Winter grumbled but removed the baseball cap, allowing her red hair to tumble down her shoulders and back. Holly noticed Erikson’s eyes on Winter as she jammed the witch hat on top of her head, scowling.

“Okay, time to start the show,” Missy cried, clapping her hands. “Boys, sit back and watch how it’s done. Wickeds, it’s time to be wicked witches. Everyone grab a broom. Oh my God, Winter, don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to make you pretend to ride it. Are we all set? Right, now Holly and I are going to dance around the fire while I play spooky Halloween music on my phone.”

Holly chose the broom they used in the barn, the paint worn away in the center where it was often handled. She peered into the darkness. Nothing was there yet but … she met Connor’s eyes and gave him a slight nod. This might work after all.

Missy pulled a flask from the spider-printed garter around her thigh and took a swig. “Who else wants some fortifying brandy?”

Connor, Erikson, and Aunt Rose took her up on the offer, and then Missy pressed “Play” on the Halloween music, which consisted of a lot of spooky noises and TV-show variety wooooooos . Missy took another gulp of brandy and passed it to Holly. Holly shrugged and tilted the flask to her lips, the liquid burning all the way to her belly.

“Let’s play ‘Witch’s Brew!’” Missy squealed, thumbing through the music on her phone. “Do you remember hearing that in elementary music class? We had to remember all the things the witch put in her brew.”

Holly did remember, but it wasn’t as fond a memory as it clearly was for Missy. Halloween had always made her slightly uncomfortable as the holiday where people celebrated the very Wickeds and Witches their ancestors had relentlessly persecuted centuries before.

A moment later the song began blaring, and maybe it was the shot of brandy or maybe it was Missy’s enthusiasm, but soon Holly was dancing around the fire with Missy and breathlessly belting out the song.

Holly threw her head back and laughed when Missy grabbed Aunt Rose and tugged her toward the fire, swinging their aunt around as she joined in with singing the lyrics of the children’s song. Holly was having so much fun she almost forgot why they were there. It took her a moment to recognize what was happening when a frigid January chill swept the clearing.

Connor was suddenly beside her, his hand on her arm as he stared into the darkness where a form had materialized.

“He’s here.”