Page 20 of Deadly Blooms (Psychic Unraveled #1)

THE COFFEE ISN’T EVEN THAT GOOD

Maggie

I wondered if anyone else in this town had any experiences like this.

Maybe Katie’s had weird experiences too—shit. Katie! I have a coffee date in less than an hour.

I leapt up, leaving Chester to his biscuit making in the muslin blanket I’d pulled from my luggage last night, and popped into the shower in an attempt to wash away the fatigue.

Still dripping, I wrangled myself into jeans and a dark grey graphic tee. My wet hair instantly soaked through the cotton. Perfect. No makeup, hair like a raccoon’s nest—flawless. I scooped it into a claw clip and prayed Katie didn’t judge.

I rushed down the stairs and ran into Chester, who was lapping up his wet food from a saucer in the kitchen.

“I don’t remember feeding you.” I said, scratching under his chin. The can wasn’t where I’d left it. My stomach twisted, but I pushed it down—no time. “Stay out of trouble. I’ll be home later.”

With my purse in hand, I fished out my keys and sunglasses and made a beeline for the back door, locking it behind me, not that it’ll do any good when the front door still had a glass panel missing.

Graham’s black SUV sat in the driveway like an annoying stalker, just waiting for me to do something to get his jollies off.

I didn’t know why he even cared. For all we knew, the ghost could’ve killed that man—and could’ve come back to do the same to me.

My chest tightened at the sight of him this morning, and no, not in the swooning— Hey look at this really hot guy kind of way. More like If this keeps up, I’m going to need a cardiologist and a goddamn Mai Tai kind of way.

I wanted to shout at him—scream at him—and tell him exactly how he failed at the one job he was supposed to do: protect me . But I didn’t. Instead, I was a good girl. I started the car, turned it around, eased past him without even sparing a glance.

Naturally, he blipped his siren before I could make it more than five feet and motioned for me to roll down my window.

I stopped the car, fuming, and did as he asked—still refusing to look at him. My heart thumped behind my ribs like it wanted to punch him too.

“Where you headed?” He asked, with a smooth honeyed voice that made my skin crawl now.

“I’m meeting Katie.” I said, forcing a breath. “You got a problem with that?”

I plunged my hand into the mess that was my purse until I found my frog-shaped coin pouch stuffed with Tootsie Rolls—my favorite. My fingers played with the wrapper, twisting and untwisting the end to keep my temper in check.

The sound of his pen scratching on a notepad grated my nerves.

“Captain’s orders,” he said. “I need to know your whereabouts for the next three days, so I can be there should the need arise.

“That’s rich—especially from you. You didn’t exactly stick around to aid me last night.” I slid my sunglasses down my nose, locking eyes with him. “You walked away. Left me to deal with… whatever the hell that was.”

Surprise flashed over his face, but quickly faded. He rubbed the back of his neck and stayed quiet. The nerve of him!

“You think I made it up, don’t you? Like I’m just some drama queen who can’t tell fantasy from reality?”

He raised both hands. “Hey, I’m sorry if it came off that way. If it were real danger, I’d have stepped in. First thing. It’s probably just some loose wiring or something that made the cloud of smoke—it is a really old house.”

A cloud of smoke?

“That fucking cloud of smoke was a ghost—and it told me I’m not safe in my own damn house. I know what I saw!”

Whatever last night was—the flirting, the friendliness, the chemistry—it was gone.

Poof. And right now, he was the last person I wanted anywhere near me, let alone pretending to protect me.

Even if those gunmetal-eyes and tattooed forearms made my thighs twitch…

it wasn’t worth shit if he didn’t believe I was in danger.

“Forget it, officer. ” I flipped him the bird and tossed the Tootsie Roll at his head—not hard, just enough to prove a point.

He snatched it mid-air without even flinching.

My jaw clenched as that stupid, smug smirk spread across his face. He unwrapped the candy and popped it into his mouth.

“Careful, cupcake… that’s assault,” he said, deadpan.

What a smug, gorgeous, insufferable asshole.

My fists clenched around the steering wheel. His constant need to twist everything into a joke made me want to rip that cocky little smile right off his stubble-covered face. But all I could do was glare while he sat there, grinning like my rage was his entertainment.

I shoved my sunglasses up my nose and pulled away in a huff, gravel spraying behind the car.

Port Grey drifted past my window in a blur of clapboard shops and crooked telephone poles as I made my way to Marble Bistro. I checked the rearview mirror.

“What the actual fuck?”

And there he was. Graham. Two damn car lengths behind me. Following me like I was some criminal on parole.

I rolled my eyes so hard I felt my optic nerves strain. This was beyond ridiculous.

I yanked the wheel and parallel-parked across from the bistro. Naturally, Officer Overbearing slid in right behind me.

The bistro sat just two blocks from the ocean, its crisp white siding practically gleaming in the sun.

Above spotless windows, bold black letters spelled MARBLE, and pots and half-barrels overflowing with mums, marigolds, and dark red zinnias dotted the sidewalk, all crying out, begging for a pumpkin spice moment.

Katie’s warm smile took the edge off the chaos spinning in my chest. She stood by the front door, her whole vibe was like a soft cinnamon bun—sweet, golden, and exactly what I needed.

I waved across the street, the warm air met me like a hug—fresh coffee, crisp bacon, something sugary and sinful baking in the back. It reminded me of Annie’s back home. My stomach rumbled like it hadn’t seen food in a week.

“Hi, Katie! How are you?” I asked, tugging the sleek black handle of the lacquered door.

A small Help Wanted sign swung from a chain on the door.

My savings wouldn’t stretch forever. So I made a mental note to ask for an application on the way out.

The bell overhead chimed softly as we stepped inside.

Katie’s bright expression—such a weird match for her pastel goth getup—flickered into a moment of concern.

“I’m fine. What about you?” she asked, lowering her voice. “I still can’t believe they found a body on your property.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” I groaned.

She locked eyes with the hostess and subtly raised two fingers.

The hostess swooped in with a polished smile and two menus, her crisp white shirt practically starched to hell. She led us to a small table by the floor-to-ceiling windows, where the golden sunlight spilled in.

Her foundation looked caked on for a hostess gig—but I hated makeup, so who was I to judge?

From here, I had the perfect view of my unwanted babysitter parked across the street, gaze locked on us like we were a threat or a snack.

“Who’s this you’ve got with you, Katie?” the hostess asked, flashing me the kind of fake smile I’d given customers a thousand times.

“Sol, this is Maggie Maxwell, a new friend, just moved to Port Grey. Her uncle was Silas Harney.”

“Oh—so this is the new girl everyone’s buzzing about,” Sol said, fluttering her falsies at me as she pulled a notepad from the pocket of her short black apron. That little smirk on her face made my stomach flip.

Oh god. Was I really already the town’s latest headline?

I slid into the booth and dipped my head, scanning the bistro like someone might leap out and snap a photo.

“Everyone’s talking about me?” I lifted the menu like a shield between me and the stares I was suddenly sure existed.

Sol chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry too much. This town’s always buzzing about someone—doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done. Everyone knows everything.”

Katie scrunched her nose and nodded. “She’s not wrong.”

“Well then,” I muttered, shooting Sol a look, “maybe someone in this overly informed town can tell me who murdered the man in my backyard—because it sure as hell wasn’t me, and it wasn’t exactly a warm welcome.”

Sol gave a tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “I’m sure Captain Nettles and that handsome officer out there will figure it out.” She gestured toward Graham and gave him a flirty little wave through the window.

Graham lifted his chin in acknowledgement and tossed her a two-fingered wave.

“He’s been the town’s golden boy since he moved here eight years ago,” Sol said, tucking a loose coil of auburn hair behind her ear. “Every woman between sixteen and death has their eye on him.” She kept staring out the window, her breaths slowing like she was watching a movie instead of a man.

Katie rolled her eyes, then glanced back at me. “Sol, why don’t you grab Graham a coffee and a pastry to-go? On me. We’ll decide while you’re gone.”

Sparkles twinkled in Sol’s eyes. “That sounds marvelous—” she cooed, already floating toward the counter to grab a paper to-go cup.

“Jesus… she’s probably already wet.” Katie snickered, flipping open her menu. “Twenty bucks says she flirts with him.”

“Twenty, huh?” I peeked over Katie’s shoulder. Sol already undid the top two buttons of her blouse like it was a ritual offering. I smirked. She wasn’t even half Graham’s age.

“You know,” I said, leaning in, “I’m really glad we did this.”

Katie’s eyes sparkled as she scanned the brunch menu, her oversized black glasses slipping down her nose. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

I took a breath, the memory still crawling under my skin.

Don’t freak out. Don’t think I’ve lost it…

“I think my house is haunted,” I locked eyes with her. “I saw Uncle Silas last night.”

Her brows lifted. The menu dropped.

I recalled the events of last night, watching as her expression sharpened—rapt, curious, a little too excited.

She leaned in closer than necessary, her face inches from the table, eyes wide and glittering.