What's a Witch to Do Part 12

"What? Handsome and chivalrous? You gone lesbian on me?"

I sip my wine. "I have other things on my mind, Tam."

"Fine. You're uncomfortable talking about it, big surprise. So fill me in on the rest."

We spend about fifteen minutes talking about my investigation. About halfway through, that frigging band saw starts again. "You hear anything yet?" I ask over the noise.

"I tried talking to Cheyenne, but she was less than receptive."

"Well, maybe Adam will have more luck tonight. They have a date."

Tamara wrinkles her nose. "What? Is he insane?"

"I guess," I say with another swig. "He is a man after all. Well, most of the time."

Tamara's eyes narrow. "It bothers you, doesn't it?"

"What? No! Stop looking for romance everywhere. This isn't a Jane Austen novel."

"Uh huh," she says.

"Besides, a girl shouldn't date two men at once. It's unladylike."

"Shut up!" She smiles from cheek to cheek. "The doctor asked you out?"

"Sort of. He sent me roses and told me to attend the auction on Wednesday."

"Oh my G.o.d! That is so romantic! Are you going? You have to go."

"Signed up today, G.o.ddess help me. I mean, I'm not insane in thinking he's into me, am I? Because Adam suggested he might be part of the plot to kill me."

"Well, then Adam's an idiot. He must be if he's going out with Cheyenne."

"He's only doing it to get information out of her," I concede.

Tamara shakes her head. "Who cares? You've landed yourself a gorgeous-"

"Mona Leigh!" Auntie Sara shouts, mad as a March hare, from her side window. "Will you please tell your guest to stop that horrible racket? I am trying to watch the news!"

"Yes, Auntie Sara," I say. "Come on. Let's go check on the kids." Sophie, Cora, and Piper are all watching iCarly in the living room, stuffing their faces with contraband Twinkies. The kitchen is empty except for a clean table and running dishwasher. Huh. I could get used to having such a houseguest. My excellent lodger and Shawn are in the backyard, the teenager having a blast with the saw, judging by his smile. "We had a noise complaint," I shout. Shawn shuts off the saw.

"Sara?" Adam asks.

"Who else?"

"What are you guys working on here?" Tamara asks.

"We're making shelves for Miss Mona's store," Shawn says.

"You're fixing up the store?" Tamara asks Adam.

"Just putting up new shelves," Adam says.

"That's nice of you," Tamara says. "Aren't you just a fine, upstanding gentleman."

Like every other female today, she devours him, giving him a full-body scan with a glint in her eyes. He gives her a humble smile as I suppress an eye roll. This is getting more than a little annoying. The guy's not a model or anything, for G.o.ddess's sake, but there is that tool belt ...

"Hey, I gotta get the girls ready for bed," I say, maintaining my calm. "It's getting late."

"Oh, right," Tamara says. "We better boogie. School night and all. Nice to meet you."

"You too," Adam says.

Tamara takes my arm and drags me inside. "I want one," she whispers as we walk. "Can I borrow yours for the night?"

"Um, he can hear you," I say. "Werewolf, remember?"

"What?" We turn around and see Adam give a little wave. Tamara chuckles nervously. "Kidding."

"I charge by the hour," Adam calls. "Plus tips."

"And I am more than sure you are worth every penny," Tamara says.

"Gross, Mom," Shawn says. I second that.

I escort them out of the house to Tamara's Malibu. Her kids, who haven't stopped bickering since they could talk, squabble as they get into the car. "Oh, I almost forgot," Tamara says, moving to the trunk. She pops it open and pulls out a pump action shotgun and cartridges. "Lonnie said you can keep this as long as you need it."

"I don't want that thing," I say.

She thrusts it into my arms. "Tough. Put it under your bed for when Mr. Fix-It isn't in there."

"What? He's not coming anywhere near my bed," I whisper.

"Oh, Mona, what am I going to do with you?" She kisses my cheek. "Have a nice, cozy night with the hunk sworn to protect your body."

"Bye, Tam," I say with a little wave.

The car pulls away as I slowly stroll back to the house. Why is it that everyone a.s.sumes when a man and a woman inhabit the same s.p.a.ce for a period of time they'll fall into bed with one another? I've known Adam for eighteen d.a.m.n years; if he had any designs on me, he would have acted on them by now. Or at least given me a d.a.m.n sign. Instead he went out of his way to avoid me until now. I recall at least three instances off the top of my head where he saw me approaching his group and walked away. If I'm honest, it kind of hurt my feelings. I wasn't even worth a stupid conversation to him. Which makes this whole thing so strange. There is something that I am not seeing. Why- My train of thought is derailed when a silver Lexus parks right in front of my house. My breath catches when the driver gets out.

Guy Sutcliffe. Here. At my house. Looking edible in a white dress shirt with the sleeves pushed up and black slacks. "Hi," he says as his eyes narrow. "Um ... "

I follow his gaze to the shotgun slung over my shoulder. Oh G.o.ddess. "Oh," I say with a chuckle, "I was just taking my shotgun for a walk. It gets fussy if I don't."

"Oh," he says, shutting the car door. "Wait, what?"

"I'm joking. It was a joke? Apparently a bad one."

"No, right," he says. "Sorry. I'm a little slow today. Twelve-hour shift."

And he came here! I suppress my giddy jumping. "Well, would you like to come in for some tea? Might perk you up."

"I'd love some tea," he says, walking up to the house. He follows me inside, both of us glancing at the other and awkwardly smiling. "I hope you don't mind me stopping by like this. It was on my way home."

"No, I'm just surprised you knew where I lived."

"I, uh, got the address off Cora's chart."

The girls are still in front of the TV when we step in. I don't want them to see the shotgun. "Make yourself at home. I'll be right back."

I take the steps two at a time and sprint into my bedroom. He's in my house. The man of my dreams is in my house! I jump up and down squealing for a few seconds before regaining my composure. I stash the gun into my closet with the cartridges going in my dresser. With that done, I rush into the bathroom to brush my hair, add lipstick, and gargle with mouthwash just in case. Of kissing!

When I swan back downstairs, Guy is wedged between the girls on the couch examining Cora's hand. "Are you keeping it dry?" he asks.

"I hold it up in the bath like this," she says, demonstrating.

"Excellent," he says.

"Girls, don't bother the doctor," I say. "He's had a long day." I grin at him. "Come on. Let's get you that tea." Guy follows me into the kitchen. Thank the G.o.ddess Adam isn't in the backyard anymore. "Hot or cold, sweet or unsweetened?"

"Sweetened iced, if you have it."

I pull out a pitcher of just that. "Dr. Sutcliffe, you are south of the Mason-Dixon. I dare you to find a home without cold sweet tea in the fridge."

"Well, I beg your pardon, ma'am," he says, trying to copy my accent.

I pour. "You are forgiven. This once," I say, handing him a gla.s.s. I guess flirting is like riding a bike, though I never thought I'd learned in the first place. "Save any lives today?"

"Not really. Things are pretty quiet around here."

"Is that a good or bad thing?"

He shrugs. "A little of both. I wanted a slower pace, and I got it," he says, not sounding all together thrilled. "It's just different."

"What made you decide on Goodnight?" I ask.

"There was an opening, and it has a certain Southern charm. I always wanted to live in the deep South. Painted porches, sweet tea, sitting out on a swing enjoying both."

"Well, I think I can help fulfill that fantasy. Come on."

Guy shadows me back into the living room where the girls are whispering to each other, stopping when they see us. That is beginning to bother me. I'm not a big fan of secrets, and I'm about to say something when the footsteps on the stairs cause us all to look that way. Adam wanders in, and my back involuntarily straightens. It feels strange having Adam and Guy inhabit the same s.p.a.ce, as if the combination sends uncomfortable ripples through the atmosphere. I think they feel it too. After the initial surprise, they grow a little suspicious of one another, almost examining one another like animals ready to pounce. Most odd.

"h.e.l.lo," Adam says.

"Um, A.J., this is Dr. Guy Sutcliffe. Guy, this is A.J."

"He's our cousin from Boston in for the wedding," Cora says.

Guy's posture softens a little. "Oh, nice to meet you." He extends his hand. After an uncomfortable second Adam takes it, squeezing so tight Guy winces and pulls away. "Nice grip."

Adam doesn't utter a word.

"Um, we'll be out on the porch if anyone needs us," I say lightly tugging on Guy's shirt.

"Nice to see you girls again," Guy says as we walk to the door. He half smiles at the scowling werewolf. "Have a ... nice night."

I shut the front door when Guy steps out. "You'll have to forgive my cousin. He's a tad grumpy today."

"No, it's fine," Guy says as he sits on the swing. "Exactly how many cousins do you have in town?"

I sit as close to him as I dare, leaving about two feet between us. "I've actually lost count. We're an old family."

"And you've always lived here?"

"Born, lived, and will probably die right here."

"That must be nice, having roots. It's hard to get them up in D.C."

"Blessing and curse, like most things in life," I say, sipping my own tea. "I've known these people all my life, but on the flipside they've known me all their lives, and people in small towns have long memories. I'm still getting heat from Nurse Luann about biting her thirty years ago."

"Yeah, she mentioned that," he says with a chuckle.

"See? So watch out. Just saying."

He sips his tea, glancing over at me with a sly smile. "And what will me sitting on this swing with you do for my reputation?"

I beam back. "You'll be considered a very smart man with excellent taste in women."

"Huh. Accurate so far." He scoots closer to me so our legs touch. He's touching me. My entire body tingles with antic.i.p.ation. "And if I, I don't know ... " he says, lifting up his arm and draping it around my shoulders. I almost die on the spot. "Do something like this, what do you think they'll say?"

"Um ... " I seem to have forgotten the English language. "Good. Good things."

He proudly smiles and takes a sip of the tea, the blue and purple bracelet on his wrist falling a little. I've seen that before. Where- "So did you get my flowers?"

"What? Oh, those were from you? I thought they were from one of my other gentlemen callers."

"You have others?"

"Oh tons. I'm beating them back with a stick. Though you're in the lead."

"My good old-fashioned Southern courting skills are that good, huh?"

I shrug. "You lose points for not wearing seersucker and asking me to dance a reel."

"I will have to remember that for next time," he says with another smile.

We swing for a minute, and I enjoy every moment of it. The feel of his body beside mine. The weight of his arm on my shoulders. The way his thin lips pucker just after he sips the tea. He must feel me staring because he turns, his eyes meeting mine. His smile starts small, as does mine, but they grow in time with each other. The smile of antic.i.p.ation. My cheeks grow hot again, but I don't break the gaze. He is so handsome, like something out of a movie. He moves first, lips slightly parted for what's to come, and I follow his lead. This is really happening. Please let me remember how to kiss. I close my eyes.

"Oh my G.o.d! They're going to kiss!"