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She peered through her thick lenses with a wide grin. Despite her downy snow-white hair, she was not a feeble old woman, something she constantly reminded Mere’s parents of. It was an old argument, but when Mere had moved back, they found a reasonable solution.
“Obviously.” Mere chuckled.
Nadine clicked her tongue. “Don’t get sassy with me, young lady.”
She didn’t mean it. There was nothing in this world Nadine appreciated more than a sassy young woman.
Mere planted a kiss on her aunt’s cheek and pulled out the ingredients for dinner. She put on a pot of water for the spaghetti and grabbed the container of thawed sauce.
“Does it even count if I just reheat your leftovers?” Mere dumped the sauce into another pot.
“It’s your company I appreciate, not whether you cook. Plus, who else am I going to pass the recipe down to?”
Aunt Nadine placed the salad on the table along with her favorite Italian dressing. She sliced the bread while they waited for the water to boil and the sauce to warm. Handing Mere a large hunk, she sat at the table and spread a generous portion of butter all over her piece. Mere joined her.
“Ramona’s?” she asked around a heavenly mouthful.
“Of course. How was your day?”
She swallowed. Mere was more honest with Nadine than with her own parents. Her aunt was one of those women who assumed you were as capable as she until proven otherwise. Instead of hovering, waiting for the breakdown, Nadine was always willing to listen, always willing to help pick her up off the floor, brush herself off, and get back to living. It meant more to her than she could ever say.
“Interesting.” She wiped her hands off on the paper napkin and pulled out the photo of Leonard Reed. “I found this yesterday. Do you remember him?”
Mere passed the picture to her aunt. Nadine lifted her chin to position the bifocals for a better look. She flipped it over and read the name. A wistful smile grew upon her lips, and she stroked her long braid, which hung over a shoulder.
“Yes, Mr. Reed. I remember him. He was the mayor not too long after this was taken, if I remember right. Before I was born, anyway. Volunteered with the fire department and got elected to the school board, too. That was when I was in high school. Dated his nephew for a few months before I met Sergio.”
“What was he like?”
Nadine returned the picture. “Why do you want to know about some old codger who died long before you came around to light up this old lady’s world?”
Mere licked her lips. She didn’t want to lie to Nadine. Hell, she wasn’t sure she could lie to her aunt. The woman was people smart.
“He has a captivating face.” Even more so, seeing one so close to it on Anders.
“Got a crush on a dead man, huh?” Nadine smiled wickedly. Mere could almost tell the instant she put the pieces together. She should have kept her damn mouth shut. “Or not so dead. It strikes me that Mr. Reed looks an awful lot like a certain newcomer who I ran into a time or two at the library.”
The blood rushed to her cheeks, and Mere got up to check the water, hiding the flush. She tossed in salt and the pasta, and after giving herself a moment to calm down, rejoined her aunt at the table.
A puzzled expression replaced the wicked gleam in Auntie Nay’s eyes.
“What is it?” Mere asked.
“It’s a bit odd, but if I recall the gossip correctly”—Nadine always recalled the gossip correctly—“I swear I heard the new hottie in town had rented the old Reed place out in the county.”
5
THE WORST FLIRT IN TOWN
Mere’s dreams were filled with strange beings chasing her, and Anders’s bright blue eyes shining from each face she encountered. She woke with an overwhelming sense of dread.
The coincidences were piling up. Anders could be Mr. Reed’s much younger twin, and now he lived where Mr. Reed had. But what did she believe was going on? Vampires weren’t real, plus she had seen him on a bright, sunny day. No sparkles, no dust, no bursting into flames, and no ugly magical daylight jewelry. No stranger had come to town with a big-ass sword and proclaimed there could be only one survivor. That would have inserted itself into local lore. Which left a Benjamin Button effect; somehow, Mr. Reed was aging backward. None of those things were remotely possible. Coincidence was all that remained.
Dread pooled into a rock in her gut as the day went on. Mere had a date with him tonight. She should cancel, but she didn’t have his number. Or an email. What had she been thinking? She could stand him up, but her curiosity won out, helped along by her distinct trust issues.
If Anders wasn’t who he said he was, she needed to know. The last time she trusted someone, she had been hurt, both physically and emotionally. She’d be damned if she would let that happen again.
Mere put on her prettiest blouse and her most flattering jeans. She curled her ash-blond hair and did her make-up, picking the subtle browns to highlight her eyes. A spritz of her favorite perfume and she was out the door, dressed to impress. This would either be an excellent first date or a disaster of extraordinary proportions.
