I pulled away from his touch and chewed on my lip. Maybe he had a point… or maybe he didn’t. If word got out that I’d given Graham cookies from our bakery, a bakery that also sold potions, it’d be all the evidence the town needed to convict me. But then, maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe it wouldn’t be that simple. I swallowed hard. Why was it so hard to know the right thing to do?
Riley held his phone out to me. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you in the morning.”
“Why are you so invested in this?”
“I’m always invested in a good story.” He flashed me a grin. “Plus, I think you’re fascinating, and I don’t want you to assume you’re guilty.”
I put my number in, then passed it back, ignoring the flirty tone to his words. Even if the love potion was affecting him, that didn’t mean he was wrong about working together. At least having his help meant I wouldn’t have to solve this on my own or turn to the police, who might not even listen to what I had to say before arresting me. Plus, he had Lizzy vouching for him, and I could trust anyone she approved of.
The swing creaked as Riley stood. “I’ll talk to you in the morning and you can tell me what you’re thinking, or if you’ve been thinking of me.” He added that last part with a wink.
“Wait.” I shot to my feet and grabbed his arm. “You’re leaving?”
“You don’t want me to?” He tilted his head, his dark eyes warm and teasing.
“You might’ve eaten a poisoned cookie. I can’t let you walk away.” I tugged him toward the door. “Come inside for a bit.”
“I like a girl who knows what she wants.” His voice dropped.
I rolled my eyes. I was the last person my family would describe as knowing what she wanted. “I need to keep an eye on you until I can be sure you won’t die.” My thoughts darted to Graham again, but I did my best to push down my guilt and grief to focus on the problem at hand.
When I eased the door open, the smell of pumpkin and chocolate wrapped around me from Mom’s dessert, but the living room was clear. Maybe Mary was waiting to talk to me again before spilling the tea to the family. Or at leastI assumed she was. Mom and Lydia would’ve been waiting to pounce as soon as I got back otherwise.
If I could sneak Riley inside, I’d avoid all the questions that would come our way. While I’d intended to tell my family everything, the situation with Riley and the cookies he’d eaten changed things slightly. I didn’t want to worry anyone—not after everything the family had already been through—so I’d wait to see if Riley’s theory was correct and I was innocent.
“Step exactly where I step and say nothing until I give you a sign,” I whispered.
“I didn’t realize you were going to go all out with this detective thing,” he said. “It’s like we’re in a spy movie. I’ll be the dashing detective and you my femme fatale.”
I held a finger to my lips and tiptoed inside, avoiding the creaky spots in the wood. I led him toward the magical door and turned the knob to blue to get into Cupid’s Confections. When it was red, it led to the kitchen. I pulled him into the bakery after me, then closed the door and leaned against it.
“Are we safe to talk now?” Riley’s low voice came too close to my ear.
I jumped at his proximity and stepped away. “Yeah, we can talk. The door is enchanted so noise from the house won’t make it to the bakery and vice versa.”
“So this is what it looks like back here?” Riley raised an eyebrow and wandered around. A few trays of apple spice donuts sat on the counter to rise overnight, a thin sheet of beeswax covering them. He peeked into the fridge where bowls of pumpkin chocolate chip cheesecake batter and maple pecan madeleines sat, letting the flavors deepen. He grinned at the sign on the wall that said,Ghouls just want to have buns, then picked up a tiny potion bottle labeledvanilla extractsitting next to a cauldron on the counter.
“Don’t touch anything,” I said. “Mom’s a stickler for people being back here when they haven’t washed their hands.” Plus, she was quick to notice when decorations and items had been moved. While she and I didn’t agree on a lot of things, holiday decorations were a passion we shared, and we’d spent hours decorating the store to match the Halloween vibes—which was one of my favorite holidays.
“What do you want to do while we wait?” The roguish tint to his smile made my stomach flip. “If you’re unsure, I have a few ideas,” he added, wiggling his eyebrows.
“I’m going to make sure we have everything we need to open in the morning.” Before he saw my red cheeks, I turned from him to take stock of the rest of the kitchen. I wouldn’t fall prey to some love potion-induced flirting.
A quick sweep of the storage area showed we had none of the infinite whimsy potion needed for tomorrow’s cauldron cakes. We were supposed to make it after dinner, but it seemed like everyone had forgotten after Mr. Collins’s appearance and my rushing out.
“I need to brew a potion for tomorrow?” It came out more like a question than a statement.
Riley swept an arm out. “Lead the way.”
I peeked through the door to make sure the living room was still clear, then headed to the basement. While fall scents filled the bakery upstairs, the earthy musk of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling and the beeswax candles on the tables dominated this space.
Nerves prickling in apprehension, I grabbed a few candles, and Riley said, “Here, let me.” He flicked his fingers,and the wicks burst to life, casting shadows on the basement’s stone walls.
“Wow. I didn’t know you could do that.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. At least not yet.” He winked.
“Do you think you could light the fire there too?” I pointed to the spot on the counter where I would brew the potion.
