Page 25 of A Hexcellent Chance to Fall in Love

Ten minutes later, I turned the hearse through the iron gates of Whispering Woods Cemetery.

It had been here longer than the town of Clover Creek itself with headstones dating back into the early 1700s.

Teens liked to tell tales about how the grounds were haunted, and at least once a year a group of them would try to sneak in and stay overnight.

Once Clover Creek decided to lean into the spooky season, Whispering Woods became a well-known spot for Halloween enthusiasts.

Next month this place would be packed daily with tourists.

But today there didn’t seem to be a single living soul.

“So you are planning to murder me,” Christina said, but her voice was light so I could tell she was joking.

“Don’t spoil the fun.” I once again followed her lead as I looped the car around and parked it in one of the more secluded parts of the cemetery.

It’s not that I was killing anyone, but this was one of my favorite locations in all of Clover Creek, and I wanted to share it with her.

“Ever dig up a dead body before?” I asked before cracking a smile.

“Can’t say that I have.” Christina continued this little game she’d started.

“Well then, how about a picnic instead?”

“Do we need a reservation?”

I winked. “Already taken care of.” I exited the car and headed to the back of the hearse to pull out the basket and blanket I’d prepared for the occasion.

The honeybees from before started buzzing in my chest again.

I had mulled over what to do for this occasion for a long time.

A restaurant seemed like too much pressure—the server could show up at inopportune times, it could be too loud to carry on a conversation, the food could end up not being good.

Being somewhere without distractions or too many outside variables seemed the best choice.

But now that I stood there looking out over the tombstones, I started to second-guess myself.

This place is very secluded, and it would be extremely easy to kill someone and bury them here.

Christina got out of the car. Her head swiveled back and forth like she was really taking in our surroundings. Maybe this wasn’t as great an idea as I’d thought. “Oh, we’re really going to have a picnic…in a cemetery?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t get more peaceful or private than this.” I tried to sound reassuring. “We could go somewhere else if you want.”

Christina seemed to hesitate. “No. I can be brave.”

I let out a deep breath. Thank god. I had no idea where else to go. “Come on. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” I reached toward her. “I got you.”

Her gaze shifted to my outstretched hand, and then my face, before she accepted. Her skin was cool against my palm, but as our fingers intertwined, a flash of heat raced up my arm and settled inside my chest, calming the swarm.

“What? You don’t think dead people like company?” I asked, trying to get her back into her joking mood from before.

“Well, if you put it like that.” She turned like she was about to get back in the car.

“Come on.” I tugged her hand, and she followed along.

Whispering Woods Cemetery was expansive—much of its land preserved—but its rich history and family mausoleums were works of art.

My family wasn’t from here, I’d moved far enough away from them to breathe after what had happened with Mitchell, but after coming here the first time—since I couldn’t go see Mitchell where he’d been buried—this seemed like the next best thing.

This was where I wanted to end up one day.

Not in the morbid sense of what that meant—to be dead.

But in the way that as soon as I had walked through the gates and among the headstones, a serene feeling washed over me.

Even before I stopped being scared, I was never scared here.

If there were such things as ghosts, they never bothered me.

Now being laid to rest here wasn’t an option, but I still loved it.

“During Halloween, a number of residents will come out here and cosplay some of the more historic local residents, and the middle schoolers have to come out and ask them questions for a project on our local history,” I said as we headed up a small hill. “At least that’s what my coworkers tell me.”

“Really? That’s actually pretty cool.”

“And the Sunday before Halloween at sundown, they do this massive town game of hide-and-seek.”

“Okay, now that sounds terrifying.”

I laughed. “It sounds like a lot of fun to me.” And it was. I came every year for the event.

“Sure.” She didn’t sound very sure.

I squeezed her hand. “What, you wouldn’t come with me if I asked you?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Maybe.” I chewed the inside of my cheek. I really needed to get better at picking up when Christina was teasing and when she was serious.

“Then maybe I’ll come.”

I led Christina through some of the older headstones up another small hill. The air was ripe with the scent of freshly fallen leaves, and when the wind blew, her rose-scented perfume flooded my senses and sent tingles through my body.

“This is one of my favorite places in all of Clover Creek so far,” I said just as the view came into sight.

From here you could see the entire city and beyond.

A blend of buildings and trees in the distance, and if I tilted my head, the bright yellow banner for The Dead of Night peeked out from behind a towering evergreen.

The town clock sat proudly in the center of the city.

“I stopped by last week on a coworker’s recommendation,” I explained, because how else would I know about this place?

I really needed to be more careful with what I said.

Christina’s head swiveled back and forth like she was taking it all in. “It’s breathtaking.”

A flock of birds flew overhead, and Christina breathed steadily next to me—the sound of her sucking in deep breaths of the serene fresh air.

“It’s so peaceful,” she said, and I nodded. “You almost forget that there are hundreds of dead people underneath us.” She squeezed my hand. There was that humor of hers again.

“Thousands even.” I played along and squeezed back. “Help me with this?” I set the basket on the ground.

“Har, har.” Christina took the corners of the blanket and helped me lay it out on top of the crinkly grass and fallen leaves.

In the springtime, this place was green and lush with new flowers at every turn.

Now, in the fall, the grass had browned, and the trees looked as though they’d been set aflame, with burnt orange leaves.

She settled on the soft flannel as I pulled out the snacks I’d gotten earlier in the day—an assortment of cheeses and cold cuts along with some bread and jams. I figured you could never go wrong with cheese, but I hadn’t considered the possibility of Christina being lactose intolerant until that moment. Luckily, I brought a lot of snacks.

“I hope Italian soda is okay.” I held up the bottle. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like to drink.” Which was also why I had plain bottled water, too.

“It’s perfect. I only imbibe occasionally.

I’m not a big drinker. Sometimes when I’m out with coworkers, I’ll get a soda water with lime, so it looks like I’m drinking with them even when I’m not, and it helps settle my stomach because, you know, social anxiety.

” She bit her lip like maybe she thought she’d said too much.

At least it seemed like I wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

“That’s a smart idea.”

She let out a breath. “Just don’t tell anyone my secret, okay?”

“They won’t hear it from me.” I zipped an imaginary zipper across my lips. “Do you like hummus?”

She smiled and nodded. “I also love Havarti and Muenster,” she said as she picked up the containers of sliced cheese. “No Swiss, though.”

“No.” My voice was tentative as I pulled out a sleeve of assorted crackers and opened it.

“Good. If you had any, I’d have to end the date right here and now.”

“Not a Swiss girl, then?”

“Never.” She smiled as she set a slice of Muenster on a cracker and placed it in her mouth.

I could get used to her humor.

We munched on snacks and drank as we chatted about the kind of topics that didn’t seem important—comfort foods, hobbies, books we’d read, favorite movies—but they were all the things that made a person who they were.

When we didn’t speak, it was the type of silence you could soak in—the kind that felt like a cozy blanket in front of a roaring fire on a rainy day. Being with Christina was easy.

The clouds overhead floated by without a care in the world, creating pictures in the sky.

“I guess Margaret and Beatrice didn’t get along.” Christina broke the silence and motioned to the headstone nearby that read:

Here Lies Margaret Lester

Died the best baker in Clover Creek—

Take that, Beatrice.

That was another reason why this was one of my favorite spots. “You should see Beatrice’s headstone.” I raised my brows.

“Why, what does it say?”

“I can’t tell you. You’ll have to find it for yourself.”

Christina narrowed her eyes at me. “You just want me lurking around the cemetery.”

I shrugged. “Maybe.” I pretended to grimace so she’d know I was teasing.

She took a sip of her soda and let out a long sigh. “I guess I have to admit, it really is peaceful here.”

I settled back on my hands and gazed out at the towering trees and quaint buildings nestled between them in the distance—like I’d done so many times in the past by myself.

Another light breeze swept by, and somewhere nearby a bird called out—singing a little tune.

If I closed my eyes, I could believe it all was just a normal day with no boundaries or expiration dates or curses.

It felt positively normal. Better than normal since I had someone to share it with. “Not so scary, is it?”

“No, I suppose it’s not.” She nudged me with her elbow. “But it’s still light out.”

“But it won’t be forever.” I winked. Maybe I was pushing the joking a little too much, but she had started it, so I thought it couldn’t hurt.

“We aren’t staying till dark, are we?”

“Live in the moment, Christina.” I smiled at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re home before dark.”

“Well, I didn’t say that either.” Her red cheeks made my heart pound even harder.

For the second time that day, I wanted to break down and tell her everything—spill it out.

Try to explain how curses were real and so was magic, and because of those things, I’m fated to forever be connected to that store and all that goes with it.

A part of me didn’t like keeping secrets from her.

I wanted her to know every part of me, and I was dying to know every part of her.

But past experience told me that my situation wasn’t the easiest thing to explain and could potentially make everything worse.

The third year of my service with the store, I’d been so angry, I attempted anything and everything to get out of it.

I tried to get fired. I told anyone who would listen about the curse—and they just laughed me off.

Some of the kids in town ran with the lore and it expanded to a story about the store being possessed by demons.

But it all didn’t matter. When November second came along, the store vanished, and so did I with it.

By the time I’d come back, everyone had forgotten about me like always—but I didn’t forget, and the rumor about demons was here to stay. And now I wasn’t ready to give up my chance of being with Christina before it ever truly started by trying to explain it all over again.

All I had was this time—here, right now—to make it what I wanted. I didn’t have that many days left before I’d be gone again, and no one would remember me.

What else was I supposed to do?

Either way seemed like such a risk. Attempt to live even a small amount of time as normally as possible or allow the inevitable to hold me back from what could be exactly what I’ve always wanted.

I had to take the risk because it was a risk worth taking.

“I like you—a lot,” I blurted out. Not the smoothest way to tell someone, that was for sure, but my nerves had gotten the better of me. “And I was hoping maybe…”

But I couldn’t finish. Christina’s cheeks were the brightest red they’d ever been. She sat there staring at me, not saying a single word.

Oh shit. I had fucked up royally. Misread the situation.

The good news was that in a very short time, she wouldn’t remember this or me at all—both a curse and a blessing.

But the next forty-seven days were going to be rough if I had to see her again.

“I’m sorry. That was too much.” I started packing up our snacks.

She placed her hand on my knee. “I like you, too,” she said. “A lot, in fact.”

Our eyes connected. My heart sped up to twice its normal rate. The space between us disappeared as we each leaned a little closer—like two polar-opposite magnets unable to resist the pull.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” she said.

“I’d really like it if you kissed me,” I replied. “But are you sure you’re not worried about doing that here?” I raised my brows at her, not passing up the chance to tease her a little more. A risk perhaps, but I’d already taken the leap.

“Should I be?” Her warm breath tickled my cheeks. “You’ll protect me if any rogue zombie comes along, won’t you?” She smirked, signaling my risk was paying off.

“I got you.”

“You keep saying that.” She pressed her lips to mine, sending tingles down to my toes and back. I ran my hand through her silky hair and wrapped my fingers at the nape of her neck. Her tongue brushed against mine, the flavor from our blood orange Italian soda still lingering.

My entire body ignited as her fingers climbed up my arm and found a patch of skin where my cardigan had slipped from my shoulder.

When we finally broke apart, her red lips were a little fuller, a little redder, and her lipstick still completely intact. “I could get used to this,” she said.

“The cemetery?” I teased.

Christina bit her lip. “Being with you.”