She was about the fiftieth person to do so—to say those words, to hug Callie with relief, to pull back and look over at the happy—and alive—bride and groom.
It was after one o’clock, and because the bride and groom were in their seventies—as were most of their friends—everything was winding down.
“I almost didn’t,” Callie replied, then, unlike with most of the others who’d thanked her, she spilled more details to Fiona. “But Brenda came back and she was really insistent, and I tried to ignore her, to beg her to leave…and then it struck me. The deaths only happened on New Year’s Eve—and the only thing that happened differently on New Year’s Eve waswhen the ball lit up.
“I had been here earlier today when Gertie was testing the ball, and I noticed black marks on the trees that were standing right up against the wrought iron railing. I thought it was oil from the railing, but I realized at that moment—just in time—that they were scorch marks.”
“And you put two and two together in about ten seconds,” said Gideon, who still looked tense about everything even though no one had died. “Thank God.”
Callie nodded, still trying to swallow the lump in her throat that had been there for over an hour. “Yes. I guess—I mean, we’ll have to confirm it—but I think there’s probably some exposed wire that touches the railing, and when the electricity is sent up to the ball to light up, it zaps through the railing. If you’re touching it, you’re…” She swallowed again, hard, and realized how close things had come to being a tragedy. “Toast.”
“So it’s not really a curse after all,” said Fiona. “It’s just a faulty wiring job.”
“That’s right,” said Gideon, who wasn’t one to openly discuss curses or phantoms. “Just a simple, scientific explanation.”
“But you have to wonder whether Lonna Donne had something to do with it originally,” mused Callie. “For all we know, she somehow planned it as her revenge.”
“We’ll probably never know the truth about that, but I can promise that tomorrow Gertie will check everything over with a fine tooth comb,” said a familiar voice.
Callie turned to find Ben standing there. The way he was looking at her made her stomach do a slow, pleasant roll. “You were brilliant,” he said. “Brilliant to figure that out. Amazing job, Callie. On the wedding and everything.”
Her face felt very warm and she wasn’t sure what to think about this suddenlookfrom him. She’d been wrong before… “Thank you, Ben. I—”
He was still eyeing her, but his words were benign. “I…uh…as a member of the Tremaines, I want to thank you for settling the so-called curse legend once and for all.”
“Well, I’m really happy to have figured it out. Otherwise….” She shuddered and grimaced. “I almost didn’t. I keep thinking about it…”
“It’s over. And everything went perfectly. The ceremony was just what you planned—just what you’d described to me. I really liked that tea drink with the whiskey they were serving down there—and I’m not a tea drinker. And the s’mores…that was a great idea too! This has been awonderfulNew Year’s Eve.”
She realized that somehow as they were talking, they’d edged away from the main crowd of people and were standing kind of alone, off to the side. “Thank you, Ben, it really means…”
She stopped because he was looking up.
She tilted her head to follow his gaze and then she saw it.
A ball of mistletoe…right above her head.
It was new. Brand new. Andshehadn’t put it there.
She looked back at him, suddenly feeling very warm and very tingly. Her stomach rolled again, extremely pleasantly.
Ben wore a little smirk behind his beard, but there was question in his eyes. “Ooops,” he said with fake surprise. “Look where you’re standing.”
“I see that.” Warmth and joy flowed through her as she became certain. Well,prettycertain… She couldn’t tamp back a grin. “Oh dear, whatever shall I d—”
Her words were cut off as he stepped close, pulled her to him, and covered her mouth with his. Heat, pleasure, and relief coursed through her as she met his kiss eagerly.
So right.
So perfect, so right, sodamnedlong coming. His beard bristled softly against her face, his arms held her close, and they kissed with emotions that had been pent-up for over sixteen years.
When at last Callie pulled back—just to catch her breath—she had to touch his face. “Did you…when did you…?” She could barely form words, but she could look up meaningfully at the mistletoe.
“Earlier today,” he replied. His voice was low and rough and she liked that she’d made him sound like that. “I couldn’t let another New Year’s Eve go by without picking up where we left off…sixteen years ago.”
“It’s about damned time,” she muttered, and pulled him back for another long kiss.
He was the one to ease away the next time. “So, uh…how much longer do you have to hang around here?”
