Page 30 of With All My Haunted Heart

“You’re obviously still recovering, and I don’t want to rush you.” Elle pushes away from the fridge and pulls out a steak, her attention shifting to dinner prep.

“But…” I prompt.

“Halloween is only twenty-three days away.” She reaches into the spice rack, and with her standing in profile, I’m hyperaware of the way her throat constricts as she swallows. “I need to know if you can get back to work soon.”

“Ah.”

“I don’t want you to overexert yourself and get hurt,” she continues in a rush. “And I know this whole thing was my fault, but if you can’t complete the haunting, I’ll need time to find a different witch who can pick up where you left off.”

“Elle, breathe.” I set the apple on the table and join her on the other side of the kitchen. “I won’t be ready to go ghost hunting for a few more days, but I can get back to my research tomorrow. I know you said trust isn’t easy for you, but I promise I can do this.”

One of her rare smiles, colored with relief, blooms across her face. “That would be great. And I’m genuinely glad you’re doing better. I swear I wasn’t trying to be dismissive of what you’ve been through.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Assume that I’ll read the worst into whatever you say. I know our initial meeting was a bit contentious, but I’d like to think we’ve gotten past that.” But as the words hang between us, I realize it has to be more than that. At Bellflower Bistro, Elle sat close so I couldn’t accuse her of yelling if she had to raise her voice above the din of the restaurant. “Is this part of the trust issue thing?”

Elle’s cheeks burn red, but she nods. “My therapist thinks it started with my parents’ divorce and my dad taking off for good, but…I also dated someone for a long time who always found a way to make me the bad guy.” She grabs a bowl from one of the cupboards and adds a layer of spices to the bottom. “I guess I still expect to be misunderstood.”

“Intentionally misunderstood?” I ask, and when she gives a sad, lopsided shrug, my heart aches for her. I wish I could soothe her hurt, but short of pulling her into an embrace and whispering reassurances in her ear—which I clearly cannot do—all I have to offer is a promise.

“Let’s make a deal. We both assume positive intentions. Always. Unless the other person explicitly says they’re trying to be an asshole.”

The laugh that startles out of her is the best thing I’ve heard all day. “Deal.”

Chapter

Ten

“If you could sign right here.” The delivery driver hands me a stylus, and after I’ve scrawled my name on the digital pad, he hands over a square package. “Have a good day, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” I call after him, even though being called ma’am makes me feel a thousand years old. I close the front door and turn in time to see Xander coming down the stairs.

“What’s in the box?” He’s dressed in dark-wash jeans and a heather gray cable-knit sweater with a green scarf draped around his neck. It’s all very small-town autumnal chic.

I follow him to the newly installed reception area that sits along the side of the stairs. “Dea overnighted a pair of lepidolite crystals. The last one broke when the poltergeist escaped. Do you have scissors stashed in that desk somewhere?”

Xander digs through the drawers, which someone already filled with office supplies, until he finds a metal letter opener. “Will this work?” He hands it over and watches as I slash through the layers of tape and pop open the top of the box. “I take it this means you’re back? All healed up and ready to go?”

The bruise on my stomach has turned a sickly shade of yellowish green, and it’s still tender, but that’s not what Xander’s asking. “I have some final research to do, and I want to make sure I’m back at full capacity magic-wise in case I run into another poltergeist, but with any luck, the first few ghosts will be moving in early next week.”

“Well, I can’t wait to hear all your plans at dinner tonight.”

“Going somewhere?”

He nods and heads for the coat closet. “I have a few meetings in town. There’s been a delay with the liquor license that I need to handle, and I’m trying to talk the mayor into coming to opening night.”

“Oh?” I pull the packing paper out of the box Dea sent, revealing a pair of perfect lepidolite orbs. The swirls and splotches of purple and white gleam under the B&B’s interior lighting. My fingers itch to cleanse and charge the crystals so I can cover them with containment sigils. “Why does the mayor need to come to opening night? Is he cute?”

Xander rolls his eyes at my smirk. “The man is at least sixty, Pip. Besides, I was serious when I said I was taking a break from dating. This is business. The people in this town love him.” Xander grabs his maroon peacoat from the closet and swings it over his shoulders. “If the mayor likes Midnight Manor, it’ll endear us to the other businesses. I want to stock this place with locally sourced products, but that won’t fit our budget unless we can strike up some friendly deals.”

Pride swells in my chest. “That’s clever.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Xander buttons his coat, but a familiar smile tugs at his lips. He’s hiding something.

“Xander…”