“So, another topic of hot debate is whether you’ll keep your word to Penn and go back to dance class.”
Dane looked at his watch. “Dance class ended at six, it’s now twenty past eight. How the hell does gossip travel that fast?”
“This is H-Town, dude.”
“Why do they even care about a stranger?”
“Well, to be fair, they don’t consider you a stranger, because Luna is determined to get you to take over from Doc Morris. So, you’re now part of the community. Also, anything that happens that isn’t related to Halloween, ghosts, and the paranormal is always welcome. Your arrival and Wren’s return for the summer are all anyone is speaking about at the moment.”
“I. Am. Not. Going. To. Practice. Family. Medicine,” Dane said, through gritted teeth.
“Don’t tell me. Convince Luna.” Hayes laughed. “Getting back to Penn, the consensus is that he is an arrogant prick. And anyone who takes Colt’s side against his dad is a hero in the town’s eyes.”
Hayes mentioning Colt diverted Dane’s attention from Luna’s plans for his future employment.
Hayes sighed. “I’ve watched him grow up—he’s the same age as Hadley—and it’s a miracle he’s as well balanced as he is.” Hayes drained his beer. “Penn tells everyone he’s a day trader, but we all know he’s a househusband, not that there’s anything wrong with him being a stay-at-home dad. But it bugs the shit out of him. His wife is a high-flying lawyer who only manages to get back to H-Town once a month. Penn hates the role reversal, and we think he takes his frustration with the situation and his own inadequacies out on Colt.”
Dane hauled in a deep breath. “Any violence involved?”
“Not that anyone has noticed. It’s mostly verbal.”
Dane muttered, folded his arms, and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling. “Shit,” he muttered.
Hayes tapped his glass against Dane’s bottle. “Please try not to step on my daughter’s foot if you go back.” He lifted his bottle in a mock toast. “But here’s to you… Thanks for giving us something to talk about. And welcome to H-Town.” He grinned. “It’ll be nice to have a new doctor in town, someone who works more than a few hours a week.”
Jesus.“I am not?—”
He saw Hayes grin and knew he was winding him up. So he quietly, subtly lifted his middle finger in his direction. Thenhe looked at Wren, caught her eyes on him and his heart did a slow roll, then dipped and swooped.
This wasn’t a date, this wasn’t a date. But, damn, he wished it was and that it would end the way best dates did … up close, personal.
Naked.
* * *
An invitation to have mid-afternoon coffee at Spirited Grounds with Luna was never just about coffee. And once again Wren was proved right when the following Monday, she found her godmother sitting at the round table at the back of thecafé, Madame Calliope to one side of her, and Andrea, the head witch from Luna’s coven, on her other. The rest of the eight-seater table under the mural was empty, although there were full coffee cups in front of two empty chairs.
Oh, what fresh hell was this?
Wren started to backtrack, but then three sets of witchy eyes lifted, and collectively pinned her feet to the floor. “Don’t you dare leave,” Luna mouthed.
Ugh.
Wren weaved her way through the tables, her hands buried in the pockets of her sunshine-yellow sundress. The three most powerful women in the town were waiting for her…
Nothing good could come of this. What in the name of all that was holy, or unholy, was Luna up to this time?
She reached the table and held on to the back of one of the free chairs. “Okay, I will continue to teach the kids dance,” she said, hoping her quick capitulation would get her out of the coffee shop sooner. The incense drifting from the plague-doctor burner above Andrea’s head hit her like a brick—instant headache.
She wanted out.
Like, ten minutes ago.
Andrea, serene and lovely, and dressed in a prosaic pair of denim jeans and a pink tank top, rose from her seat. She pushed back her chair and walked behind Luna and Madame to hug Wren. She couldn’t explain it, but whenever Andrea hugged her, she just … melted—like her whole body exhaled and decided to relax. Was that something Andrea had learned at witch school?
Then Andrea touched her fingers to Wren’s temple, spoke too softly for her to hear, and as quickly as her headache had appeared, it left.
No words. Genuinely. None.
