Page 16 of Manors & Mischief

My heart drops into my stomach. I can barely breathe. Sweat beads over my forehead, and a rush of wooziness presses into me like the walls are closing in on all sides. She’s going to ruin the house. Of course, she is. She’s not from around here. She has no idea the history she has. She’ll probably bring a sandbox into the corner and plop a beach chair onto it.

“The fuck you will,” I splutter out.

A noise that can only be described as a baby whale pushing air through its blowhole escapes her mouth. I peer at her and find her hand covering the lower half of her face. As soon as our gazes latch, she dissolves into laughter. “You should’ve seen your face.”

My tense shoulders tighten a fraction before they relax. It’s a joke. Thank fuck.

“Damnit,” she cries. “I really tried to keep a straight face.”

She’s still laughing so obviously she sucks at it.

“I thought maybe if you believed I wanted to… oh God.” She sucks in a breath, glistening tears cling to her lashes. “I thought if you thought I wanted to modernize everything you’d step in to help, but damnit. I couldn’t keep a straight face when you got so mad. The fuck you will,” she mocks, deepening her voice again.

I try to smile, but I’m pretty sure it comes off as a sneer. My brain is still on high alert mode. “Ha. Ha.”

She wipes the tears off her cheeks, some chuckles still escaping here and there. “Man, you just can’t relax, can you? Have you ever tried removing the stick from your asshole?”

“I think it says more about you that I believed what you were saying.”

“Me? You don’t know anything about me except that I bought this house and…” She throws her hand out, gesturing wildly behind me. “…love pumpkin spice lattes. Which, I’m going to drink now before it gets cold.”

She leaves me in the ballroom and heads for the porch. I follow after her, my mind still furiously racing. Before she can get to it, I jump over the hole in the porch, grab the cup she placed on the railing, and dump it into the yard below.

She gasps like I kicked her non-existent puppy. Her accusing glare slices through me, and honestly, she’s right to look at me like that. It’s not my fault she brings out the absolute worst in me though. I’ve turned into an immature toddler. I pull my shoulders back. “That’s what you get for teasing me about ruining a historical masterpiece.”

She leans over the porch like she’s going to be able to recover the lost liquid. “That was the best pumpkin spice latte I’ve ever had!”

I shrug, bounding down the steps toward my truck. I close my eyes, not even believing that I did that. Stupid. Childish. I really do have a stick up my ass when it comes to her.

It’s all for the best, though. I was feeling way too comfortable talking to her in there. I let my guard down. Her fake monologue about all the changes she supposedly wanted to make brought me to my senses.

“Unforgiveable!” she calls out.

If she thinks a small thing like me dumping her coffee is unforgiveable, then she should find out what it feels like to have someone swoop in and take your dream right out from under you.

I get in my truck and pull away from the curb, driving slowly past the land she now owns that leads out of town.

Somewhere in that thicket of trees is a Harvest Falls treasure. She doesn’t know what she has. She couldn’t. She’s an outsider. And that’s the real tragedy of Ember O’Malley owning Sleepy Hollow Manor.

If she ever joked about destroying the Wishing Well, I’d probably have a stroke on the spot.

7

EMBER

Bea-utiful Coffee & Baked Goods, Bea’s place, smells heavenly. It always does. I’ve become a regular ever since we became besties. Well, more like when I tasted her exquisite coffee, and if anything else were to go wrong with my move here, I’m not sure I would care. I would stay just for this place.

Pumpkins of every shape and color accentuate the interior of the cozy store. Orange and yellow flower strings decorate the baked goods case and the picture window. Corn stalks and hay bales. It looks like she went into the craft store and bought at least one of everything. I’ve already begged for her help in decorating the manor when I’m ready since she certainly has an eye.

She places a white coffee cup in front of me on a little saucer along with a piece of pumpkin bread. “What did the appliance guy say?” She takes the seat in front of me, wiping her hands on her apron.

“He said the fridge and oven are fine and would probably last me a long time. The furnace looks fantastic. I guess that’s one thing the investors upgraded, and the washer and dryer work for now, but I might want to think about replacing them in the not-too-distant future. Not going to lie. They’re ancient.”

“But that’s better news than you thought,” she offers.

I sigh in relief. “It sure is.”

She grabs my cup and takes a sip, then grins. “Just testing the goods.”