Page 42 of The Haunting Plot

“That’s where we come in,” Lucy says.

Summer grins. “Don’t worry, we have something plotted out just for her. You just need to do your part.”

“I dunno if I like the sound of that.”

——————

I climb the porch steps quickly, a renewed sense of purpose filling me as I use my knuckle to ring the doorbell.

The door swings open. “Why are you ringing the doorbell?” Raven’s hand is propped on her hip as she eyes the coffees in my hands.

“Hands were full.” I push past her toward the kitchen, wishing I could casually brush her shoulder when I pass, but I refrain since touch is a trigger for her. She hasn’t seemed to mind the few other times I’ve touched her, but I don’t want to press my luck. No, I want her to eventually beg me to touch her.

Not the time to be thinking dirty thoughts, man.

I set the coffees down on the counter, gesturing for her to grab one.

She eyes them suspiciously. “Let me guess. You got me the purple one, assuming I must like purple because I’m a girl. Do you know how ignorant that is?”

Smiling, I grab the purple coffee, taking a big sip as I turn the other cup around so she can see her name on it. “I asked Sandy at Chestnut Roasters for your usual.”

“Oh.” She takes a sip of the coffee, closing her eyes and turning away as if she doesn’t want me to see her enjoyment.

“Knock, knock!” a voice calls out from the front door.

“Bella. Sorry, was I expecting you?” Raven says as Bella joins us in the kitchen.

“Nope. Saw this guy at Chestnut Roasters and thought I’d pop by. See if you need a hand.”

“We’re fin⁠—”

“If you wanna take the kids for a playdate, I need to use the saw, and Jonah doesn’t like the loud noises,” I say, cutting Raven off.

Bella grins, and I bite my cheek to prevent my smile, knowing this was the plan the whole time. “I’d be happy to.”

Raven turns to Bella. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’m meeting up with Lucy and her boys at the park.” Bella waves a hand as she disappears upstairs.

“Well, that was…” Raven trails off. I can’t decipher the look on her face. Is she mad? Relieved?

“Sorry if I overstepped.”

She takes a sip of her coffee, and my pulse quickens as I wait for her to speak. “It’s not a problem. I need to write anyway.”

“What are you working on? A scathing exposé on small-town life in Chestnut Mountain?”

The tiniest smile flashes on her cheek, causing a small laugh line to flicker in her skin. “Something like that.”

“Well, that’s not cryptic as fuck. Can’t wait to read it.”

Her eyes shoot to mine. “You’re not really my target audience.”

“I read the paper. You write for the Chestnut Mountain Gazette, right?”

“I also freelance for other online sources and magazines.”

“You ever write any books? I’ve seen plenty of journalists get into that.”