Page 2 of Homesick, Lovesick (Harper Valley Witch #3)

Ronan looked up from the breakfast dishes he was washing as someone knocked on the back door. Before he could even move to dry his hands, Match was there, pulling it open to reveal his parents.

"Mom! Dad!"

He hugged them tightly.

It always kind of hurt, in a bittersweet way, watching Match with his parents. They loved him so much, and just wanted him to be happy, whatever he did. Yeah, he'd followed in his mother's footsteps, but if he'd chosen something else, they would have supported him.

So far as Ronan's parents were concerned, the only thing he'd ever done right was becoming a paladin. He should have focused on being a shiny, perfect golden paladin, though. Drawn his power from the sun and shit, instead of being a 'creepy' dark paladin who thrived on the night, on shadows and blood.

Ronan had never wanted that, though. He liked being a dark paladin, and anyway, it had been clear from his first day of school in Harper Valley that Benny had the whole traditional paladin thing locked down. He was made for it, loved it and thrived on it.

Even if Ronan had wanted to be a traditional, 'golden' paladin, they already had one. A Guardian team of their size didn't need two, and he was better with the goth end of things anyway. Plus, witches were also closely tied to the night, to blood, which meant Ronan had that much more in common with the ridiculously pretty witch he'd been crushing on since the first day at his new high school.

So he'd gone dark paladin, and just added it to the ever-growing list of things that made his parents disappointed in him. At least he had his uncles. They'd been better parents to him than his actual parents ever were.

"Ronan, sweetie, how are you?"

Jordan asked, smiling brightly. The last time he'd seen her, her hair had been a bright blue bob. Now it was watermelon pink and long enough she'd thrown it up messily in a neon green hair clip. Ronan had no idea what color it actually was, because for as long as he'd known their family, her hair was always some crazy color. Even in old pictures, it was dyed.

"Oh, you know, waiting with bated breath to go shit in the woods for three months."

Jordan giggled. Her husband, Darius, rolled his eyes at them. Save for the green eyes and nose he'd gotten from his mom, Match looked very much like a copy of his dad. Brown skin, black hair, even the way they stood and moved was close, though Match was also a fidgeter like his mom, where his dad was always so still.

Match poked him in the ribs.

"Stop it, you big baby."

"Hey, I said I'd do it, and I will. But after this little venture, I'm never leaving indoor plumbing again. I was not born in this century to snub such a great and marvelous gift."

"Baby,"

Match repeated.

"All right, sweetie, show me what's what while your father deals with the luggage,"

Jordan said, and off the merry witches went.

Ronan helped haul in the luggage and other odds and ends they'd brought.

Even knowing how awesome they were, it was still amazing to him they'd agree to come and stay for three whole months to cover Match's duties and take care of his pixies and plants while they were gone.

The plants and stuff the others would have been happy to attend, especially Penelope as she loved the pixies almost as much as Match, but the magic…the magic was the key.

Harper Valley couldn't go without a witch for three months.

And if things went wrong, it might be even longer than that, though gods above he hoped not.

"Really appreciate you guys doing this,"

he said.

"If I asked my parents to cover us for a weekend, I'd never hear the end of how perfect and magnanimous they are for agreeing to do it and receive an itemized bill."

"Yeah, meeting your parents that one and only time was a treat. I'm sorry they're like that."

Darius hugged him briefly, and then they got to work unpacking.

Darius handled the clothes and bathroom stuff, Ronan dealt with the food, games, and other miscellany they brought to make the house feel like their home away from home.

They'd already cleaned the place about thirteen and a half times over, though that hadn't kept Match from fretting himself to death.

Even though he kept his house neat as a pin anyway, almost religiously, since the house was such an upscale from both the small, ramshackle house he and his parents had lived in and the shitty apartment he'd been stuck with for way too long.

If there was one thing that haunted Ronan, haunted all of them, unbeknownst to Match, it was how stupidly clueless they'd been about Match's situation, and how long they'd been stupidly clueless.

He was their friend and teammate.

They should have known.

Even everything Benny had done to get him a fat check and increased pay didn't seem to make up for all the ways Match had been wronged by everybody.

Which was why the whole town could suck on it until Match felt like facing them.

When he'd finished putting the board games and blu-rays away, he tucked the empty bags into the spare closet and then returned to the living room, where Darius had brought in three cat carriers.

He opened them one by one, and from each came an imperious ball of fluff: Serena, a fluffy white menace; Salem, an even fluffier black menace; and finally the Fluff Supreme Herself, Antigone, a beautiful calico.

So named because Jordan had found her trapped in a wall as a kitten.

They looked around warily, gave him an unimpressed look, then set off exploring.

"Only three?"

Ronan asked with a grin.

"I'm sure more will find her while we're here,"

Darius said dryly.

"Thankfully, the rest of the horde didn't seem troubled about being left behind.

The young ones have plenty to entertain them, and the older ones like not being disturbed.

It's only these three that refuse to be parted.

Antigone sits in the car when we go grocery shopping. It's honestly ridiculous. Yes, I'm maligning you, cat."

Snickering, leaving them to it, Ronan went in search of his boyfriend.

Hopefully his fiancé soon, but it was way too early still to be tying himself up in those knots.

That reminded him, though…

Slipping into the bedroom, he went to his nightstand and retrieved the box, shoving it into the front of his hoodie.

The morning had proven surprisingly cool for mid-August, and as they were going higher up into the mountains, it was only going to get colder.

Three months.

He could do this.

Especially if they came across the perfect spot to propose to the love of his life.

And if Match said no, hopefully there'd be an equally convenient deep, spooky lake to throw himself into.

Ring retrieved, he resumed the boyfriend hunt, which wasn't hard.

They were, predictably, in the garden rhapsodizing over the late summer squash that would be ready for harvest any day, and the tomatoes that wouldn't stop coming.

Ronan had no idea just a few plants would result in a truly ungodly amount of goddamn tomatoes.

Match always turned all the vegetables into something delicious, though, so it was hard to complain.

Except about bugs.

Ronan would complain about bugs all day every day, especially those bastard hornworms trying to destroy his tomato plants.

Apparently once the pixies could roam freely, they'd be quite good at pest management. He couldn't wait.

He smiled as they came back toward him.

"All set?"

"All set,"

Jordan said cheerfully.

"Got the lay of the land, he's looped me into the wards, should be good to go. Hopefully everything will be quiet, but we're ready if it isn't."

"No more jack frosts ever, please,"

Match muttered.

"Nah, we're going deep in the mountains—definitely gonna get an abominable snowman."

Match glared.

"If that happens, I'm leaving you there with it."

Ronan grinned.

"Ready to go? Anything else you need?"

"Lemme say goodbye to the pixies, then I'll meet you in the car."

"Okay."

Ronan hugged Jordan farewell, waved to Darius where he stood in the doorway, and slid behind the seat of his Challenger. It was about eight years old now, but still in great condition. The others teased him about the car being his baby, but it really was. The first real, serious thing he'd ever bought with his own money that had no ties to his family whatsoever. Painted Octane Red. All black leather interior. Enough horsepower to please the ancestors, as his Uncle Phil would say, because he was a delightful weirdo.

His car was his most prized possession, one of the few things his parents couldn't hold over his head or take away from him. Above all, it was freedom. If he had his car, nothing could stop him or hold him. When dealing with his shitheel family, that was vital to survival.

The passenger door opened, and Match slid inside, settling like he belonged. For so long, he really only got near Ronan's car when he was re-upping his protections. Otherwise, he and Benny were always on their precious deathtraps. Now, though, Match only bothered with his bike when he had somewhere to go, and Ronan wasn't around or able to drive him. They'd only been a real thing for nine months, but he was as sunk into the car as Ronan in some ways. Even now, his latest protection spell dangled from the mirror, making the car smell sweetly of herbs and flowers.

"How were the cats? They'd just been set free when I came outside."

"Two are sleeping on the bed already, and Antigone was on a kitchen chair talking to my mom while she made tea. She's amused by how much mint I keep around for you."

"I like mint tea,"

Ronan said, shrugging one shoulder.

He actually didn't care one way or another about it, or at least hadn't until that night he'd gone to Match's apartment hoping to talk to him. Assure him that stupid love spell hadn't done anything bad. Ronan hadn't even felt all that different, just braver. But Match had seemed so despondent and self-hating. Ronan had asked for tea because it always made Match happy to have something explicit to do, and the mint was all his anxiety-riddled brain had been able to remember.

It now would be his favorite tea until the day he died.

"So five-hour drive, most of it going up. Stop about halfway for a break, should be there around six, seven if we run into construction or whatever."

"Sounds good. Let's go."

Match leaned over to kiss him, then settled back and buckled his seatbelt into place before messing with the radio.

Hopefully, a smooth start meant a smooth ride for the whole next three months.