Page 46 of With All My Haunted Heart

Sloane merely nods. Waits.

“I’m also working on a way to make the ghosts visible to the manor’s other guests throughout the year. We’ll deactivate this function while you’re training your clients, but for the mundanes who stay here, it will increase the allure of the B&B.” I muster up a confident smile. “No one else is doing anything like this. Mr. Owens and Ms. Thompson will be able to charge a premium and ensure the highest possible consistent occupancy, which will further protect your investment.”

“Who did you say you were again?” Sloane asks, their gaze assessing.

Cold sweat pools at the small of my back. I can’t tell if I’m impressing the older witch or irritating them with these explanations. “Pippa Ainsley.”

“I’m not familiar with that family name.”

“Pippa is an exceptional witch,” Xander says, saving me from the need to lie about my origins. The Erikson name carries weight that Ainsley doesn’t, but it also carries the shame of my banishment. And, given Sloane’s particular magical interests, I doubt they’d hold the daughter of Nanette Erikson in high esteem anyway. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this job. Pippa is the only witch capable of pulling this together.”

“It is a tall order,” Sloane agrees. “But until there are actually ghosts in residence, I’ll reserve judgment.”

“I’ll update you as soon as we bring our first ghost here,” Elle says, having found her voice again. “By the end of the week at the latest.”

“For your sake, I hope so. My financial involvement is predicated on a fully haunted B&B. I don’t have time for delays.” Sloane’s phone goes off. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take this. It’s my assistant.”

“Let me walk you out.” Xander slips away from me and heads outside with Sloane, his charming smile already in place.

When the door closes behind Xander and Sloane, Elle reaches for me. Her fingers curl around my forearm, and when she meets my gaze, there’s panic in her eyes. “How soon can we leave to get Laney?”

“As soon as you can bake a batch of brownies.”

Taylor Swift and freshly baked brownies are a truly effective summoning pair.

Laney came into the summoning circle right away, and after twenty minutes of listening to their favorite songs, they slipped easily into the piece of lepidolite. Xander was already out by the time we got back—dealing with the landscapers for the snow removal contract—so Elle and I took over the kitchen and have been preparing to release Laney ever since.

“How much longer until we can let them out?”

I glance over my shoulder and find Elle sticking a fork into the pan of brownies. She’s sitting on the table, her legs dangling in the air, and the sight of her drags my brain far, far away from my work.

I’m drawn into a fantasy world I have no right imagining. Elle baking in this kitchen, her hands working some new recipe that flexes her forearms. Then she’s sitting on the table like she is now, beckoning me forward while the dough rises. She lets me settle between those strong thighs, lets me kiss her as she hooks her ankle around my waist and pulls me close and—

Nope. Not allowed to go there. Especially since the last time we veered into that territory, Elle ran from the room. Sure, she later said she felt too high and wanted to lie down, but still. I shake the image away and turn back to the task at hand.

“Soon. I want to make sure that once we let Laney out, there’s an easy way to see and communicate with them.”

Elle makes a thoughtful humming noise, and then the fork scrapes against the metal pan again. “Can’t you use those same crystals that you had in your spell circle thing? Set them in all the corners of the rooms or something?”

“They can’t cover a distance this large. Even if they could, I’d have to continually funnel energy through them to get the same effect. I’m good, but I’m not that good.” I return my focus to the pair of glasses I was tinkering with last night. The resonance between the crystals has felt off all day. I’m hoping that adding a piece of selenite will get everything vibrating in harmony.

“How will hot-gluing tiny flecks of crystals be any better?” Elle asks the question without any judgment, her tone pure curiosity.

Once the selenite is hot-glued in place, I glance over to answer her. My attention catches on the tray of brownies she’s been picking at, a thin perimeter carved around the outside of the pan. “Are you seriously eating all the edges?”

A rosy pink flushes the apples of her cheeks. “Only because you’re taking so long!”

I laugh, and she smiles, and god. That smile. That blush. The dusting of freckles beneath her eyes. Why did she have to be both acutely adorable and catastrophically sexy? It’s wholly unfair. I turn away before my brain can supply more alternate realities, the ones where I’m allowed to lean in close and taste the chocolate on her lips.

“If the edges mean that much to you, I can make another batch.”

“It’s fine, that’s not the edging I care about.”

The words are past my lips before I realize they’re in my brain, and Elle is choking on a bite of brownie and oh my god did I really say that?

“I am so sorry,” I say, rushing for a glass and filling it with water. “Here.” I pass her the drink and retreat a few steps. “And the glasses are testable now! Hang on, and I’ll grab them.”

The clunky, crystal-covered glasses are heavy in my hands, and I pause a beat to let my heart settle. I need to be careful. I need to be a goddamn professional, for fuck’s sake.