Magical Midlife Madness: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel(26)
I pointed at the hand-drawn map I’d put together that morning. “The hidden passageways in this place are legit. I’ve documented five routes, so far. Don’t stay in this house if you want privacy from me, by the way. Turns out I’m the only one who can see everything. One of the perks of staying in the master suite, according to Mr. Tom. He can’t spy on me, but I can spy on him. Must be some crazy kind of facial recognition software built into the security system.”
His gaze was hard. “How can you be sure? I mean, doesn’t it seem more likely anyone who goes into those passageways can see everything?”
I squinted and nodded at him, my suspicions brought to light. “How can I be sure, right? I’d have to trust Mr. Tom, and he is a yes-man. Sure, his squeals seemed genuine after he saw what I’d done to his room…” I scratched the hilt to see if any gold plating would flake off. “I had him watch through the passageway orb while I messed everything up. He said he couldn’t see anything, and he about crapped himself when he entered the room, but still, he named all these weapons and assigned them homes. Who knows with him.”
“The arrangement of these weapons is certainly…odd.” Austin surveyed the wall again. “I can help, if you like?”
“Well, now,” I said, turning frosty. “That would mean I’d have to trust you.”
“And don’t you? Trust me?”
I opened my mouth for another passive-aggressive comment, hoping I could get my point across without actually having to tell him what I’d overheard—but I stopped myself. Why was I pussy-footing around the issue? I was upset, and I had a right to be upset. He was in the wrong here. If he got upset with my honesty, tough.
“No, I don’t,” I said. “I was looking through one of the orbs when you affirmed that you wanted me to fail. I heard you say that I was the wrong sort of person to have around these parts.”
I held his continually hard gaze even though it felt like my spine was about to break from the pressure.
He sighed, his shoulders bowing a little, and the blistering intensity of his eyes reduced until I finally sighed as well.
He pinched the blade. A sizzle preceded a string of smoke rising from the place he was touching it. “It’s real silver.” He dropped the dagger into the drawer and showed me the pads of his thumb and finger. Red burns marred his skin, already blistering.
I grimaced and took his wrist, dropping the dagger I held back into the drawer. I shut the drawer with my foot and dragged him toward the door. “Do you have a silver allergy or something? I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“You could say that.” He tried to pull his hand back.
“No, no, there’s a medicine kit in, like, five places in this house. A little anti-allergen or maybe some aloe will help that.”
I got him as far as the bottom of the attic stairs before he slowed us and finally stopped. My tugging now did nothing to budge his feet.
“It’s fine,” he said, gently extracting his wrist from my hands. “A few minutes and it’ll be back to normal.”
I scrunched my brow, looking pointedly at his hand. “That burn will go away in five minutes?”
“Yes.” He studied me, and something about the scrutiny made my stomach feel fluttery. “Listen, you’re right. I did say those things. And I meant them. I hadn’t thought things through at the time. I still haven’t totally wrapped my mind around it, to be honest.”
I took a step back, not having expected him to come clean so quickly. Part of me had wondered if he’d try shifting the blame onto me, something my ex had excelled at. I’d gotten used to the emotional manipulation.
“Oh?” I said to cover my shock.
“But parts of what I said you mistook.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned on my right leg, preparing. Here it came.
“I wasn’t implying that you were the bad sort who’d show up. You’re already here. You have shown up. I’m anxious about the people who will follow. And I don’t want you to fail. Not at all. If you’ve found a home here, I want you to thrive in it. That’s what this town is all about—second chances. New beginnings. It’s why…I have reservations about your role here.”
I’d already loosened my arms, reassured by his explanation, and now I wondered if I should tighten them up again. I shook my head in frustration. “I’d love a straight answer.”
“I know.” He studied me for a moment, and my stomach fluttered again. I wiped at it absently, waiting. “I’m asking if you’ll hear me out. Like when you explained your worries regarding your safety the other night, I wonder if you’ll give me an opportunity to explain my worries. The worries I have for the whole town.”
“Yeah, sure.” I spread my arms to get the show on the road.
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I thought we could do it while we do the wine tasting. There’s a lot to…unravel. I’ll have to give a few confusing explanations.”
My guard went up, and I felt my lips curve into a placating though nervous smile. Given what I’d learned of him so far, I didn’t think there was any way in hell he’d be interested in me romantically, but just in case, I needed to clear the air.
Besides, even if he was thinking about friendship (which single guys didn’t often pursue with single women they didn’t also want to bang), alcohol had the habit of changing red lights to green. He was hot, but I was not about to have a one-night stand with one of the pillars of the community. Firstly, wham-bam wasn’t usually awesome for the ma’am, and second, I’d only been with one man for the last twenty years and worried I’d embarrass myself. I didn’t need to feel self-conscious every time I joined Niamh for a beer.
In theory, all of this would be easy to explain, but some guys didn’t take no very well. While I didn’t think he was one of them, I also didn’t know him very well.
“Oh, sorry. I just have so much to do here. And I know you probably didn’t mean it like this, but I’m not really dating right now. I just got out of a long marriage, and I’m trying to—”
He put up his hands in surrender. “No, no. Sorry about that. No.” His smile was disarming. “I apologize. I wasn’t suggesting we go on a date. I’ve chosen a solitary life. I don’t date, either. I would happily explain in a couple chairs overlooking the backyard, but I do actually want some help navigating the tasting rooms. If I went alone, I’d feel like a complete lummox. And a little…” He half shrugged, and it was the first time I’d seen embarrassment in his expression. “You caught me. I wouldn’t feel very manly. There. I said it. It’s out there. Tasting rooms seem a little frou-frou to me.”
“But going with a woman is okay?”
“Going as a bar owner, with a woman who took me to task over the quality of the wine at my bar is okay, yes. Both of those things. Together.”
It was my turn to study him, wondering about the alcohol and the whole red light/green light situation.
The humor sparkling in his eyes melted away. “You can trust me, Jacinta. I’ve been given the okay to be completely honest with you. And I will be. I only ask in return that you trust me as I will be forced to trust you. Be real with me as I will be with you. I want you to succeed in life. I want us all to succeed in life. Together. But your position is unique, and I’ll explain why that is. I’ll explain the things Peggy Havercamp left out.”
Eighteen
“But how can the house possibly know I’m in the room and it should block the view?” I asked, getting further proof when Austin had stood in the passageway and looked in on me. “Does it use facial recognition? And if so, is it being recorded somewhere? Because I’m so not okay with that.” I nearly fell out of Austin’s Jeep it was so high off the ground.
He was there in a flash, steadying me. “It’s magic.”
“Yes, technology tends to be, but I didn’t think the house had much technology in it. The kitchen is seriously old school. It’s half the reason I keep letting Mr. Tom make me meals.”
“Half the reason?”
I grinned, navigating the uneven shoulder. The sidewalk didn’t start until the next block, at the edge of the downtown strip. Bright sunlight showered the street, such a different scene than after the sun went down. People strolled along the sidewalk, stepping into shops or wineries. Cars cruised slowly, townspeople heading off to do their shopping.
“It’s nice that someone is cooking for me, I admit it. It’s like having a wife like I used to be. Except this one is very strange, sometimes creepy, and often pops up where you least expect it.”
He laughed, stalling by me, looking down at my Vans. His hand shot out, ready to steady me.
“Good lord, I’m not that clumsy.” I laughed.
“Right. Sorry.” He took a step away. “I’m used to girls wearing heels. This area can be treacherous.”
“You must be a very conscientious date,” I said as my toe hit a pivot in the gravel. I made a ladylike sound like, “omph!” and staggered the last couple steps to the paved street.