Time to show Delia just how much I could brighten her day—well, make that night.
Chapter 5
Delia
It was well after midnight, and I’d only gotten a few moments of fitful sleep since I’d switched rooms. At this rate, the bags under my eyes wouldn’t fit in an airplane’s overhead bin. Every time I tried to sleep, I pictured the confident gleam in Jack’s eyes or his disapproval when he assumed I planned to walk into town in the middle of the night. As if I'd really parade through Wood Pine in my pajamas. But the worst expression, the one that seemed to stick like molten molasses in my mind was the scorching look he’d given me while I packed my suitcase.
I had not imagined it, even though anything heated coming from Jack had to be a fluke or maybe a medical emergency. But that had not stopped the air from lodging in my throat as his gaze traveled from my messy ponytail, all the way down to my fuzzy slippers.And wow… talk about toe-curling.His gaze had lingered longer than a witch at a Black Friday potion sale. Not even the opossum playing dead a few feet away could have broken that spell.
A laugh rumbled inside my chest as I fluffed the pillow behind my head and turned on my side to face the giant picture window. Bruised poinsettias, demolished charcuterie boards, and feral opossums were not romantic trimmings in my book. So what if Jack had shown me more interest in thirty seconds than Simon had shown me in three years? That didn’t mean anything. In fact, Jack was my ticket to Simon’s heart and the career of my dreams.
What I needed to do was bury any temptation beneath one of Sage’s accidental avalanches, and focus on the task at hand. Which would be easier if I could sleep! I forced my eyes closed and tried counting sheep.
One fluffy lamb…then two…
A blaze of white light seared through my eyelids. The sheep vanished as I pried my eyes open and quickly shielded them against the fluorescent assault. Beams of vivid light poured through the picture window, illuminating the room as if it were daytime.
I rolled out of bed and stumbled to the window, nearly tripping over my half-empty suitcase. My hands searched for a string to lower the blinds, but there wasn’t one. To my horror, none of the windows even had curtains. Another laugh, this one delirious, tore from my chest.Irony meet my best friend insomnia.
There had to be something I could use to block the light, but a quick search of the room, and its lack of amenities, made me realize it was pointless. I also realized I’d fallen prey to another one of Jack’s schemes.
Squinting through the glass, I made out a row of floodlights, all angled toward my room. What usually lit the tree farm so happy customers could pick out their tree past sunset, was now a spotlight of misery, keeping me from slumber. My fists clenched as I searched for Jack beyond the beacons of torment. He was out there, hiding in the shadows, likely celebrating his success.
Short-lived success.He had no idea he was dealing with a witch who valued her sleep. Something I’d had precious little of since checking into the inn. A smug grin sealed his fate as I inhaled a deep breath and channeled a well of magic. Zips of energy flowed down my arm, and with a sharp jab of my finger against the window, the first floodlight winked out. I muttered an incantation and a second jolt of magic extinguished the rest of them, one by one, until only the moon dared to shine its light. And considering its fullness and the lack of curtains in my room, even that celestial body was on my naughty list.
Take that, Jack.
I spun on my heel and threw myself back into bed. In case Jack found any more lights, I pulled the blankets up over my head and buried my face in the pillow. Tomorrow, I’d see about getting some blackout curtains installed. I might even invest in some wildlife repellent and an eye mask. Who knew what other disturbances Jack might send my way? I wouldn’t put a visit from a skunk past him.
Just as I was finally drifting off, the deafening sound of a chainsaw split the air. The blade sank into something solid, throttling to an ear-piercing volume. A hiss, not unlike the one from the opossum, slipped through my teeth. Ear plugs were getting added to the shopping list. Shoving my arm through the blankets, I waved it viciously through the air and flared my fingers toward the abrasive sound. The chainsaw sputtered, and for a few blissful seconds, there was silence.
It revved again, and I closed my fist around a ripple of magic, silencing the saw for good. The only sound left was Jack’s muffled oath from beneath my window. With his defeat blanketing the farm like newly fallen snow, I fell fast asleep.
***
Day two at the Bradley Inn broke cold and clear, and a thick layer of snow glistened over the farm. After sleeping in as late as I dared, I slipped into the bathroom to take a hot shower and get ready for the day. I was still bemused by my showdown with Jack, and by the strange urge I had to see what he’d try next.
I unpacked my toiletry bag for the second time and grabbed a fresh towel from the rack, then turned on the shower. Humming to myself, I wriggled my fingers under the water, frowning at the icy temperature. The inn was on the older side, but the tub had filled with hot water without issue last night. A sneaky suspicion wrinkled my nose as I spun the hot water dial as far as it would go. Nothing. Just cold water.
The crack of an axe drew my attention, and I tied my robe tighter around my waist and trudged to the window. Jack was in the side-yard, chopping firewood. His shoulder muscles bunched as he drew the axe back, and then forward to let it slice evenly through the log.
Wiping his brow, he chugged water from a bottle, tipping his head back to reveal the strong column of his neck. Honestly, the entire scene would have been guilty pleasure popcorn viewing if I wasn’t standing next to a shower raining cold water.
I shoved open the window and leaned my arms against the casing.
“Turn it back on, Jack!” My angry breath came out in white puffs of frozen air. Jack looked up at me with a smirk that said more than enough about my current utility situation.
“Turn what back on? Are you having trouble with something?” He adjusted his work gloves and picked up the axe.
“Yes. There’s no hot water.”
With a shrug and another muscular swing of the axe that normally would have made my mouth water, he said, “Grandma Jean told you it was tricky. This is an old inn. It happens.”
“It worked fine last night. You did something to it, and if you don’t fix it right now, I’m going into the basement to fix it myself.”
Leaning on the handle of his axe, Jack shook his head. “Unfortunately, all maintenance areas and basement access are closed to guests.” He snapped his fingers. “You know who doesn’t have trouble with their hot water? The hotel in town.”
I growled in frustration. “I’m not leaving, Jack!”
