Page 6 of Poison Apple Crisp
“Lemon,” my name comes out with equal parts sorrow and amusement this time as he takes up my hand and dashes us away to the back of the grandstands. “Come here.” He wraps his arms around me, and I mold myself against the firmness of his chest. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
I look up and give a wry smile. “I’m wearing a sweater and jeans. And sad newsflash: these jeans are getting tighter by the second. This might even be the very last time I wear these things again, as in ever. Although it’s not this little peanut’s fault. More like the half a cheesecake I wolfed down last night at midnight.”
A dull laugh thumps through him. “I was right there with you wolfing down the other half. And that’s exactly how we’re going to get through this—together.” He warms my arms with his hands. “Have I ever told you that the minute I saw you that first day we met outside of the courthouse, you took my breath away?”
I give a long blink. “Everett, I accidentally tripped us both and landed us into the bushes. You couldn’t breathe because you probably had the wind knocked out of you.”
He shakes his head. “No. I took one look at your hazel eyes, and I felt something that I’ve never felt before. To be truthful, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I was used to pretty girls, but you, Lemon, werestunning—and there was something more. When you looked at me, it felt as if I were being electrocuted straight to the heart.” He takes a deep breath, and his chest expands against mine. “At that moment, something inexplicable happened. I was falling in love with you—a woman who I didn’t even know, had never seen before. It was instant. It was terrifying. And that’s saying a lot coming from a man who isn’t afraid of anything.” Everett cups my cheeks in his hands and sighs as he looks at me with a tenderness I have never seen before. “And I wanted nothing more than to do this.”
Everett lands a sizzler of a kiss on my lips that forces me to take a quick breath as I wrap my arms around him tightly. A moan works its way up from my throat as Everett pours out all of his affection, all of his passion, directly into my mouth.
The sound of women’s voices rises from our left, and they seem to be growing in an aggressive manner.
I pull back and wrinkle my nose at Everett as their angry voices intrude on our private party.
Everett gives a sly wink as he pulls us deeper underneath the bleachers just as the women’s voices hit their pinnacle. I can’t see their faces, but I can see their feet. One has on a pair of black wedges with gold buckles, and the other is wearing a pair of pink kitten heels.
“I don’t care what the hell you think you have on me. You don’t threaten me in my own house.” Pink Kitten Heels squirms in her shoes as she says it.
Gold Buckles takes a step back and scoffs. “When I’m through with you, not only won’t you be able to show your face in Honey Hollow, you’ll be looking to relocate from Vermont.”
“You wish.” Pink Kitten Heels takes a bold step forward, and it looks as if Gold Buckles just stumbled back.
I gasp at the thought we might be witnessing a physical altercation, and Everett tenses as if he were readying to leap into action.
“Youpushedme!” Gold Buckles riots. “You will rue the day you ever thought to interfere in my life, let alone lay a hand on me.”
“Ha!” Pinky blasts a hearty laugh in the other woman’s face—I’m assuming it was her face. “You won’t be able to carry out your revenge. I’ll see to it myself.”
They stomp off, shaking the floor beneath our feet like an angry herd of bison as Everett leads us out from the bleachers and we’re met with a sea of bodies, ten times thicker than before.
“It’s too late,” I say. “I don’t know where they went.” A spray of pale blue stars twinkles by my feet, and I hop back just as that ghostly pooch materializes. “He’s back!” I squawk.
The little cinnamon-colored cutie looks up and barks.
“He is ashe,” the adorable little thing says asshefloats effortlessly toward me. “Now where exactly did she go?” The little cutie gives a quick look around. “Ah, yes.” And with that, she whisks off, quick as a lightning bolt, toward the concession stand.
“Everett, he’s ashe,and I think the person who is about to bite the big one tonight is a woman, too.”
Everett blows out a breath as he scans the crowd. “I just saw Noah walk in. I think he should be here for this. Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be back.”
He dives into the crowd, and I try my best to see where that little precious Pom drifted, but no such luck.
As it turns out, I was born with the supernatural quirk to see the dead. I’m what my Grandma Nell referred to as transmundane, further classified as supersensual, meaning I can see right through to the other side—or at least as far as those ghosts who want to show themselves to me. But for the most part, my supersensual skills are a secret I keep to myself. Only a handful of people in Honey Hollow know about my gift, and that short list is comprised of Carlotta—the one who gave me the gift to begin with, and who can also partake in the supernatural spectacle—as well as both Noah and Everett.
Mostly I see ghosts that have come back to help solve the homicide of someone who once held them near and dear. In this case, the woman who once owned that sweet pooch had better watch her back. The Grim Reaper is here, and he’s about to claim his victim, or should I say thekiller’svictim.
But nevertheless, I can see and hear the dead. It wasn’t always that I couldhearthe dead. For a long time I could simply just see them. But as my powers grew, so did the abilities of the ghosts that visited me. Now they can talk, move things in the material world, and the very latest skill they’ve garnered is the ability to eat their fill of anything they desire. Don’t ask me where it goes. All I know is that it disappears into thin air, and in the end, the ghost in question is more than satiated.
Hey? I bet that pompom of a cutie is eating to her little mouth’s content at the dessert bar right this minute.
Brenda Phillips ordered enough individual apple crisps to feed all of Vermont. She said she wanted an apple dessert in keeping with the fall theme, and then she mentioned apple crisp was her favorite dessert. So, without a doubt, I was more than happy to oblige.
I’m about to speed in that direction when Brenda herself waves me down.
“Lottie?” She stalks on over at a quickened pace, while her short dark hair bobs up and down on her head like a wig. She’s donned a heavy navy blazer paired with no-nonsense trousers and looks every bit polished for tonight’s big event. And on her heels is the ash blonde that was with her at the bakery earlier, Rachelle Dalton. Brenda holds up one of my apple crisps in her hand and waves it my way. “These apple crisps are the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” She belts out a laugh, and I’m suddenly relieved.
I don’t know why I thought there was trouble brewing when I saw her headed my way at top speed.