Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Three days later

Holly stood outside the motel room door with her hands in her pockets. It was raining, and not the soft romantic kind, but the torrential downpour kind. Her navy raincoat was pulled over her head, and water dripped from the hood to splash on the tops of her yellow duck rain boots. And still she couldn’t force her legs to move another inch.

I am going to grow roots and die here, she thought, because there was no possible way she could make herself knock on Connor Grimm’s door.

After two straight days of arguments, Holly had been outvoted by the two sets of twins. They’d been as dismissive of Stacy’s offer to buy the orchard as she’d expected, but they’d been surprisingly open to Connor’s.

“Did you see the money he’s offering us?” Missy had squealed, thrusting the paper with the Grimm logo on it at Holly for the fifth time. “It’s enough to keep us afloat for three years. And think of all the things we could do with our new status! I’m picturing haunted midnight apple pickings and spooky Halloween barn weddings. This is it , Holly. We have to grow with the times, and this is our shot.”

“How can you even consider it?” Holly had argued. “You know how important it is that we remain out of the spotlight, how important our break-even model is.”

“Yeah, except we’re not breaking even now, are we? We’re about to lose our house, Holly.”

That was true, but still she’d said, “Now, more than ever, we need to keep a low profile.” How were they unable to see what Connor was underneath? He wasn’t just some handsome ghost hunter with a big ego; he was the real deal. This was a man who dug in and went after what he wanted with pigheaded stubbornness—she’d seen him do it on past shows. She didn’t trust that he was there for a simple ghost haunting. He would sniff and poke around, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d exposed their family secrets for the entire world to see. He would paint a target on their backs after the aunts had sacrificed everything to keep Holly and her sisters hidden. “We have to find another way.”

“There is no other way, Holly. If there were, I know you would have thought of it already. I’m tired of playing it safe.” Missy had hugged the offer to her chest. “It’s one thing to be broke, it’s another to be broke and boring. It’s been four years, and nothing has happened.”

Yet, Holly had thought. Four years ago, the aunts had no longer been able to conceal how powerful Holly and her sisters had become. Since then, she and her sisters had done all they could to fade into a rural existence, but a TV show would, at best, put them squarely in the public’s eye and alert the others to their presence.

At worst, it would destroy their lives.

Aunt Rose and Aunt Daisy had been on Holly’s side until Winter had quietly said, “I think we should do it.”

That was when Holly knew she’d lost, because when it came to the future, Winter’s word was law. The aunts had agreed with Missy that there was no way around it. The Celestes needed the money or they were going to lose the orchards and the house, and after two hundred years, they simply couldn’t allow that to happen.

Once it was decided, Holly had tried to bribe Missy into delivering the news to Connor. Holly couldn’t bear to witness the smug arrogance on his face, and she knew Missy would jump at the chance. “Maybe he’ll be so grateful he’ll take you out to dinner!” she’d said, trying to sweeten the pot.

If Missy hadn’t had concert tickets, Holly knew her sister would have gladly taken her up on the suggestion. Even with her much coveted concert tickets she’d still almost gone.

With Missy out of the running, Holly had found Aunt Rose in the little glass-paned sunroom at the rear of the house. It had been converted into a cozy indoor greenhouse, complete with burgeoning shelves of thriving herbs and a long wooden table at the center, scattered with glass vials. Aunt Rose was working a stone mortar and pestle that had been in the Celeste family at least five hundred years, grinding what smelled like dried rosemary. Holly had made the case for Aunt Rose to deliver the news, but Aunt Rose had only chuckled and offered her a brave-of-heart potion.

“No,” Holly had said on a sigh, although she’d appreciated the gesture. A potion that would help her would only cost Aunt Rose in the long run.

In the end, despite all of her wheedling to nominate someone else, it had been decided that Holly was the person who should negotiate the deal.

Holly hadn’t been able to make herself drive to the motel on Main Street until the afternoon, and by then the clouds had darkened overhead, perfectly reflecting her mood. The moment she’d stepped out of her vehicle it had begun to pour, but she’d been expecting that.

The wind ripped through the pine trees behind the motel and Holly shivered, but still she couldn’t move. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and after a few minutes of listening to the rain patter on her hood, she pulled it out and squinted at the text.

Winter: How long are you going to stand outside his door?

Holly scowled and shoved the phone back in her pocket. Sometimes Winter knew too much.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty.

Finally the door opened, and Connor stood in the doorframe, the yellow glow of lamps backlighting his form. He was wearing jeans and a simple black T-shirt. His feet were bare, and his hair was mussed and damp from a recent shower. His flint-colored eyes met hers, and without any emotion on his face he said, “Come inside.”

Holly swallowed and followed him in. The motel room was sinfully ugly, and she couldn’t even think about how many people had slept in that bed over the decades without getting the heebie-jeebies.

She unbuttoned her raincoat but didn’t take it off. She’d changed out of her high school track T-shirt into a soft pink V-neck before realizing what she was doing, and had defiantly changed back. Strands of hair slipped from her usual bun, and she pushed them behind her ears. Every ounce of her rebelled at being here; even her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Connor gestured for her to take a seat at the small table, but she shook her head. “You’ve been out there a while,” he commented.

Holly opened her mouth and then closed it again. She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t. She knew this was wrong; she knew it would end up badly. How could she jump into shark-infested waters with both feet? She loved their quiet little farm and their loyal base of customers who came to pick apples and buy cider every year. It was quaint and idyllic, and yes, it was run-down and their sales had been inexplicably dwindling, but it was comforting and steeped in history, and now she was expected to risk everything and turn it into some cheap spectacle.

It’s that or losing the farm completely, she reminded herself.

She took a moment to compose herself by glancing around the room. A black carry-on was propped against the wall, and a few T-shirts were draped over the back of the desk chair where a high-tech laptop was set up. There was not one, not two, but three cell phones scattered across the desktop. A half-empty bottle of water was on the night stand, and the air smelled of pine and warm spice. Other than those few signs of occupation, the room seemed fairly organized and sterile for having been lived in for three days.

“You could have called,” he said softly. He’d been watching her with those insightful eyes while she scanned the room. “It might have been easier.”

“Yes, well.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t do anything the easy way.”

He rubbed his jaw but didn’t say anything; he just waited patiently for her to speak.

Holly cleared her throat several more times. Finally she forced the words through her lips. “I suppose you know why I’m here. My family accepts your offer—with conditions.”

He arched a brow and crossed his arms over a chest that spoke to some decent time in the gym. The combination of those intelligent gray eyes with the five o’clock shadow was enough to give her an unexpected flash of desire.

Holly was both caught off guard and appalled. Get your shit together, hormones! She wouldn’t be interested in Connor Grimm if he were the last man in Maine.

“Your family accepts my offer, but not you?”

“I’m part of my family,” Holly said through clenched teeth. Technically the apple farm had passed to her when her mother had died, but in her mind it belonged equally to all of them. She finally hung the dripping raincoat on the hook by the door but didn’t walk in any farther. She didn’t plan on staying long.

“Did you change your mind after the man you hired failed to scare me off?” His eyes were sharp and hard, his easy stance not giving away any of the anger that she glimpsed in the press of his lips.

Holly frowned. “I didn’t hire anyone to scare you.”

“So the person who warned me away from the Celeste family had nothing to do with you?”

Holly blinked. Who could have done that and why? “Who was it?”

“He didn’t give me a name.”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t me.” Honestly, she didn’t care if Connor believed her or not; she wasn’t wasting her breath trying to worm her way into his good graces when she had no desire to be there.

Connor kept that hard stare on her for a moment longer before he reached for one of the cell phones, his biceps shifting beneath the tight sleeves of his T-shirt. Again, she glimpsed the bottom of a tattoo. Was it a ghost?

“What are your conditions?” He swiped his thumb over the screen, and she assumed he was opening a notes app.

Holly took a deep breath. “None of us appear on the show.”

Connor dropped his hand. “Come on, Holly. My show is a visual record of America’s stories, and they always sound better coming from the people who know them best. Is that something your whole family wants, or just you?”

Actually, Missy was dying to be on the show. “All of us,” she said firmly.

Connor scowled, but he typed the request in his phone. “Next?”

“One episode only.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not rushing it. If the story deserves more than an episode, then it will get more.”

“One episode.”

“No.”

Holly shoved at the hair slipping from her bun. She’d suspected this would be a sticking point for him, so she’d come prepared. “Three max.”

“As many as necessary.”

“Connor, I swear I’ll walk right now if you don’t agree.”

He stared her down, his gray eyes unflinching. “Then walk.”

Holly turned on her heel and reached for her raincoat. She had one arm in the sleeve when his palm slid around the bare skin of her other arm. He’d been entirely silent on the carpet, like a big cat in the jungle. The light touch of his warm palm sent goose bumps racing over her chilled skin.

He jerked his hand away, as if he hadn’t meant to touch her and instantly regretted it. “Fine,” he growled from the vicinity of her ear. “Three episodes max.”

Holly faced him again. Even though he’d taken a step back, he was still much closer than he had been at the start of their negotiations. Despite the fact that she disliked almost everything about him, she was affected by the enormity of his presence. This was a man who could fill any room he occupied, and it wouldn’t matter if it were a tiny motel room or a grand ballroom.

She finished pulling on the raincoat but didn’t button it. “We want a disclaimer at the start of the episode that says it’s for entertainment only.”

“We already do that for legal purposes.” His eyes slid over her face and down to her T-shirt. “Edward Jones High School track. You were a runner?”

“Sprints, and I sucked at it.”

“Yeah, but at least you got a sweet T-shirt with a decade of wear out of it.”

“Is that a fashion insult?” she asked in outrage.

His grin was disarming and lopsided, and did weird things to her stomach. “I like that you’re wearing it. It’s wholesome.”

Holly didn’t know if she was offended or oddly complimented. “I suppose you’re used to women wearing designer labels, but around here we work, and we need clothes that we can work in.”

His gaze returned to her face and mouth, and she had the strangest feeling that he was thinking about something else entirely.

“Anyway,” Holly continued, “there’s one more request, and then we’ll be all squared. Actually, it’s not so much a request as a nonnegotiable demand.” She wiped her palms on the sides of her jeans. She wasn’t happy about this one, but it was the only way she could see to protect her family. If Connor Grimm was let loose, he might dig around where he didn’t belong. She didn’t give two hoots if he wanted to scamper after some supposed ghost in the apple orchards—apart from the exposure it would bring—but he absolutely could not be allowed to discover the secret she and her ancestors had kept hidden for centuries. The only way to ensure her family was safe was to keep him on a tight leash. Winter had refused the task, and Holly didn’t trust Missy not to get distracted by Connor’s annoyingly charming smile. That, unfortunately, left Holly as the sacrificial lamb. Feeling like a martyr she said, “I want an active partner role in your investigations.”

His eyebrow winged upward in obvious surprise. “You want to investigate the haunting with me?”

No, she wanted to keep a close eye on his every move and thwart him if he got too close to things that were none of his business. “Yes. I insist on it.” She’d known Connor would want to know why, so she’d practiced the next part in front of the mirror so that she would look earnest when she said it. “I’m the manager, and I want to have control of the narrative.”

Connor hesitated for a moment. “I usually investigate with my brother, but he can’t be on site this time. It’s an unusual request—”

“Demand,” she corrected.

Connor narrowed his eyes. “ Demand , but it might benefit me to have your local expertise. Consider it done.” He held out his hand, and Holly hesitated. She didn’t want to seal the deal, but she had little other choice. She slid her hand into his, the rasp of his palm already familiar from the brief touch before, and his fingers closed around hers. Again, the heat of his body was in shocking contrast to the chill of hers. “You’re cold,” he said flatly, still holding onto her hand.

“I stood in the rain for twenty minutes trying to make myself come in.”

“Am I that scary?”

“You’re that smug.”

He gave a bark of laughter and released her. “We have a deal, Holly Celeste. When do I move in?”