Page 34 of Jasmine Street Blues

His poor grandmother, God bless her soul, had done her best, but she’d been well beyond her child-rearing years when she’d taken him in. She’d died not long before he’d met Kylie. He’d still been grieving, feeling lost and alone. He’d like to think he could blame that for his poor decision-making. Had he ever thanked his Gran? No. Of course not. Young men rarely gave a thought to anyone but themselves.

Back then he’d believed his Gran was gone. Done. No more. Now he knew there was more. Death wasn’t the end.

He really hoped his grandmother hadn’t literally been watching over him all these years. She’d have a few choice words for him if she could communicate.

Mac looked up at his plain ceiling and muttered, “Sorry, Gran. And… thanks. I loved you more than I let on.”

The overhead light in the kitchen flickered a little, but the flicker didn’t last. A wink from Gran or a wonky florescent bulb? For his own peace of mind, he settled on wonky bulb. Anything more was terrifying.

11

Business was bustling for a Thursday morning. Loran stayed busy, and didn’t have too much time to think about Mac. Not that he was ever completely out of her thoughts, not after last night. And this morning! They’d been interrupted, but the touching, the kissing, the almost there feeling… it had been epic.

Even though realizing what she’d done had terrified her for a moment, she had no regrets.

Well, one. She wished she’d met Mac sooner so they’d have more time. Whatever they had wouldn’t last, couldn’t, which made every day precious.

Several of her customers mentioned the online article. That’s why business was so good for a weekday. Several pieces sold, most of them small, but she also sold two of the bigger pieces.

She worked through lunch. Thank goodness for Mac’s blueberry muffin! Otherwise she’d be starving.

It was after two when Olive walked in, a wide smile on her face.

“What are you doing out and about?” Loran asked.

Olive’s grin turned almost evil. There was definitely a touch of something wicked there. “I just wanted to check out the glow on your face up close and personal. When you were making the walk of shame this morning I couldn’t see nearly well enough.”

Walk of shame. She should’ve known someone would see her sneaking home in the clothes she’d worn last night. Instead of being embarrassed, she said, “I feel no shame.”

“Apparently!”

They both laughed.

“I knew it,” Olive said proudly. “I had a sixth sense about you two. I used to not believe in such a thing, but now that I know there are ghosts all over the place, who am I to question, well, anything?”

“Maybe your so-called sixth sense was nothing more than a lucky guess.”

“Luck my ass,” Olive muttered. She moved closer to Loran. “So, how is he?”

“What?”

“Mac. How is he, you know, in bed?”

“Olive Carson!” Loran said. “What an inappropriate question!” The admonishment was sharp, but a genuine laugh followed.

“I suppose it is, but inquiring minds want to know. I mean, Mac is that strong, silent type, too good-looking for his own good, confident, a real hunk, so…”

“I’m going to tell Tuck what you said,” Loran teased.

The truth hit her like a speeding truck. There was more than Mac here in Seawolf Beach. More than a decent business. This didn’t feel like a temporary stop, like all the others. She had friends here, and Olive was the best of them. Loran had moved from place to place for years, knowing she’d have to leave at some point, always ready to move on, keeping to herself. But now… she didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to move on.

Maybe in a town where people accepted Colt and what he could do, there was a place for her. A permanent place. A home.

“What’s wrong?” Olive asked.

“Uh, nothing.”

“You went pale. Sorry! I pushed too far. You don’t have to tell me how Mac is in bed.”