Magical Midlife Madness： A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel(32)

I laughed as we continued on.

“It seems like the house found something in you that it had been looking for in the Havercamp heirs,” he said. “There was a quality in you it craved. So it traded up.”

“Lord knows what that quality might be.”

He looked down on me as we stopped at the corner, waiting for a few cars to roll past.

“Courage, confidence, a desire for adventure, quick wit, steadfast, trustworthy, loyal… I mean, take your pick.”

My face flamed hot. “Boy have I got you fooled.”

“Nah. I was just making all that up so you’d feel good about yourself.”

“Oh well, thanks a million, man.”

He put his hand on the small of my back again as we crossed the street, guiding me. It was almost like he thought I’d randomly decide to go sprinting into oncoming traffic.

Wouldn’t have mattered if I did, though. There was no oncoming traffic. The pace in this place was slow and tranquil. No one was in a hurry. Time didn’t compress until you felt like you were always in a race.

The difference was welcome. I felt like my shoulders were looser, my blood pressure lower.

“There sure are a lot of tasting rooms for a town this size,” I said as we got to the other side of the street. They dotted our path.

“It brings in a lot of tourism. It’s good for the town, though the tourists are mostly pompous old fuddy-duddies or obnoxious twenty-somethings. I try to avoid this strip in the tourist season.”

“Are we in tourist season? Must be, right, because October is harvest?”

“Correct. Add smart and insightful to that list.”

“I hope you’re not trying to get me to list your personality wins. I’m still struggling to find any.”

“You’re intent on boosting my ego, huh?” His crooked grin was back. This guy didn’t need my help to bolster his confidence—he knew exactly what he was good at, and based on the way other people in town reacted to him, he was dead right.

We passed a small alleyway with baskets of flowers hanging on the sides of the buildings, no dodgy streams of murky water and not one piece of litter. This definitely wasn’t L.A..

Standing against the wall, halfway down the alley, stood Mr. Tom. He wore a trench coat, bowler cap, and a pair of circular Harry Potter glasses. His arms hugged his sides and he stared straight ahead. It appeared he thought himself either disguised or invisible.

I paused, squinting at him. Austin backed up to see what I was doing.

“Good God,” he murmured. Rather than confront Mr. Tom, he immediately shifted his gaze away and kept walking.

Big belly laughs wracked my body. I hurried to catch up, grabbing his arm to steady myself. We stopped in front of the tasting room, and I gulped in air—I’d laughed so hard I’d stopped breathing.

“Part of his magic is blending into buildings, especially stone, and certain types of scenery,” Austin said, looking the other way. It seemed like he didn’t want to catch Mr. Tom sneaking out of the alleyway after us. That just made me laugh harder. “He’s clearly lost the knack. Because what is he thinking?”

“With the trench coat in eighty-degree weather…”

“And the glasses. What’s with the glasses?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “He’s lost his touch.”

I calmed down a little and wiped my eyes. “You said he was a gremlin?”

“Shall we?” Austin opened the door for me. “Gargoyle,” he whispered, following me inside.

A couple of groups were tasting wine, one of them much merrier than the other. The latter group listened to the attendant in polite boredom as he described the wine he was about to pour.

I led Austin to the edge of the counter and looked over the list of available wines to taste.

“I cannot see how his kind inspired the stone carvings on gothic structures,” I said, leaning against the counter.

“That’s because you haven’t seen his other form.”

“His other form…” I let the words drift away. It was impossible to think Mr. Tom was cool enough to don another form, let alone one as awesome as a gothic-looking gargoyle.

Before I could ask more about it, the tasting room worker bustled up to us, grabbing a couple of wine glasses as he did so. His eyes widened when his gaze landed on Austin. Immediately, his spine bowed.

“Hello, welcome,” the man said, in his fifties with a comb over and a previously pleasant disposition. “Are you here to taste?”

Austin looked at me, waiting for me to take the lead again.

“Yes. Do we just go down the list or…do we pick and choose?” I tapped the paper.

The man wet his lips, his eyes flicking to Austin. “Of course, yes, down the list. Right away. Actually…” He held up a finger, his gaze flicking to Austin again. “Let me go ahead and open some different bottles. We have better bottles than… Just hang on, if you would.”

He hustled into the back without a word to anyone else.

“Should we be worried that he’s acting strangely?” I whispered, watching the pourer disappear. “I’m all for the preferential treatment, but that seemed…suspicious.”

“Jesus. Don’t look behind you,” Austin mumbled.

But of course I couldn’t help it.

Mr. Tom stood at the edge of the front window, the collar of his trench coat popped to cover half of his face. His wire-rimmed glasses had been swapped for dark shades.

“Are we in danger?” I asked, tensing.

“Because of Earl?” He shook his head, now clearly incredulous. “No. That’s part of his nature. Gargoyles are extremely protective of those in their charge. He has clearly decided you are in his charge, and even though I’m all the protection you need, he’s providing fairly odd and obvious backup. I think being fired from that butler job addled his brain. I really do. I don’t think age can take all the blame for this one. He’s gone fruit loops.”

“No, not that—” I had to pause as laughter bubbled up through me. “What’s the deal with that guy suddenly acting all sketchy and taking off when he’s got people to wait on? Is he…a Dick? Is that why Mr. Tom thinks I need backup? Because it seems like you set that guy off.”

“Oh that.” Austin rested an elbow on the counter, angling toward me. “I make him nervous. He’s a Dick, yes, but he feels the alpha in me. He realizes I’m the more dominant male, and it makes him uncomfortable because he’s supposed to be the one with authority here and I’m pulling rank.”

“But how’d you pull rank?”

“By showing up.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No wonder you’re so strong—you have to carry around that enormous ego.”

His lips quirked into a grin and he shrugged. “I’m just telling it like it is.”

“If you’re so alpha, then why don’t you assume the title?”

His smile dripped away. The tasting room attendant hurried in carrying four bottles. He set them all down as Austin straightened up. The rest of the patrons were glancing over impatiently, their glasses empty.

“Why don’t you just pour us a glass for now and see to the others,” Austin said.

There wasn’t a hint of command in his voice. His body was relaxed, his tone easy. Even still, the man nodded as though he’d been barked at. He grabbed a bottle marked reserved and poured us each a glass to sip.

“I’ll be right back.” He hurried away to attend to the others.

“You need a pack to be the alpha of,” he said quietly, and I could hear emotion riding his words.

“How do you get a pack?”

“Take one over by force or find a mate and assemble one.”

“Going by everything I’ve seen and heard, you could do all of the above, including find a mate. You’re still hot and guys can produce children until they’re seventy—you’re all set. So what’s the real reason?”

Silence met my question for a good few beats, and I wondered if he would answer this time. Finally, he straightened up and turned to me, his expression uncomfortable. His raw intensity beat a drum inside my chest.

“I don’t usually talk about this,” he said with resolution, “but given this is a unique situation, and if you invite people into this town I’ll have to combat…”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m going to send out save the dates or anything. None of this is my idea.”

He sighed and moved a little closer, lowering his voice to a deep hum. “I had a mate picked out. A long time ago. She wanted an alpha. She wanted power and strength—a man who threw his weight around and made everyone quail in his presence. She wanted the prestige of being with the man every woman wanted and every man—shifter male, I mean—wanted to be. I was young and stupid and she was older. Not much older, but enough to know my potential. Enough to…steer me in the direction she wanted.” He shook his head and took a big sip of his wine. “I was a fool. A dangerous fool. I put a man in the hospital for flirting with her—”

“For flirting with her?”

“She knew how to bring out the qualities of an alpha that are less than savory. When she worked her way through a party, touching men intimately, laughing suggestively…” He gritted his teeth and fire sparked in his eyes. Even after all this time, the memories clearly still got to him. “It set me on edge. My natural possessiveness turned to rage-filled jealousy. I tore men off of her and beat them senseless. I threw them across rooms. I upended tables. Destiny liked to see me fight over her. Defend her honor. And I did. Every time. And every time, I won. Even at twenty, I did not lose, just like my dead-beat father, who’d left us when I was young, may the devil keep his soul.”