Page 7

brAM

The quiet of Trevor’s gray and white kitchen, scented by coffee and the faint trace of toasted bread and ham from the sandwiches we shared at lunch before he returned to the inn, turned out to be a good place for me to jot down notes and record the stories of sightings I gathered yesterday.

I’ve been in here for hours, refueling with coffee and just enjoying being in his space.

From my conversations with Agnes and her friends, and the people I met when we grabbed dinner last night at Sparky’s Diner with Ever and Dmitri, I’ve filled several pages.

And with the interview I have scheduled for later tonight, I know I’ll add more.

It’s only my second day here, but I hope Trevor and I are able to start most of our mornings together like we did today, sharing coffee and breakfast. I knew I missed him, but I didn’t realize how much.

Whenever Trevor and I met up for our group vacations, I always felt lighter, felt like I could breathe, and I figured it was because I was in vacation mode.

But being with him yesterday and this morning confirms that it wasn’t the vacations that made my heart feel like it was going to flutter out of my chest. Nor was it hanging out with friends that sharpened my senses so I always knew where Trevor was, even if I couldn’t see him.

No, it was the man himself who did all those things and more.

My phone beeps with the alarm I set four hours ago, when I resumed working after lunch. I turn it off, save my document, and glance at Hades, lying on the floor by my chair. “It’s time for us to meet up with Bram and Jo. And Bandit.”

His ears twitch at Bandit’s name, the same way they do when I tell him we’re going on a walk. When Trevor and I came down this morning, we found the dogs curled up together on the couch. I figured they’d get along, and I’m so happy they do.

After closing my laptop, I stand and glance at my jeans, T-shirt, and the black and gray plaid shirt Trevor left hanging on the back of the chair before he went to work.

It’s warm and soft, and smells like him.

Wearing it is like being wrapped in one of his hugs.

He told me I could borrow anything I wanted and I’m taking him at his word.

“Come on, boy, let’s go.”

At the sight of his leash in my hand, Hades dances my way. We grab the key Trevor left so I could lock up, my jacket, and head outside. The air is colder than early October in Philly. Fresher too, without the air pollution that comes with living in a big city.

We cross the lawn, go by the carriage house, and then walk up the steps of the mansion.

Entering is like stepping back in time. Pieces of furniture that are so familiar mix with newer items I’ve only seen in photos Trevor has shared.

The scent is different from when I was a kid too, maple and cinnamon, welcoming us inside.

Jo is behind the desk and Trevor in front, leaning over the polished wood, studying a screen. His burgundy plaid shirt, tighter than the one he wore yesterday, shows off his muscles, as do his jeans, and they have me stumbling to a halt. My gaze lingers on my sexy friend.

“Bram!” Jo spots me first and I tear my gaze from Trevor’s body.

She rushes around the desk, a brunette whirlwind bedecked in purple. Hades pulls me forward, ready to meet a new friend. Trevor, with Bandit trotting beside him, follows at a slower pace.

Jo’s hug is as fierce as I remember. When we separate, she cuddles Hades, her attention split between us. “Seeing you on the socials is nice, but in person is better.”

“Always.” We’ve been friends for almost as long as I’ve known Trevor. “You still like working with this guy?” I clap Trevor on the back and my fingers flex at the combination of soft flannel and hard muscle under my hand. I’m reluctant to let go.

Jo flicks an amused glance at our friend. “Enough that I’m invested in his happiness and well-being. I convinced him to take time off while you’re here. My homecoming gift to you both. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah?” Hand still on Trevor’s back, I slide it up and squeeze his shoulder, my grin growing with the thrill of uninterrupted time with him.

A faint pink tinge colors Trevor’s cheeks. “I’ll still need to come in, but I reduced my hours.”

“Good.” Really good. I’ll take every minute I can get.

Jo retraces her steps to retrieve her long sweater from behind the desk. “Ready for dinner?”

“Starving.” Trevor clips the leash to Bandit’s harness. “I texted Conall to let him know we’re bringing the dogs. He said the patio heaters are on, so we’ll be fine there.”

I ruffle Hades’s hair. “My interview with Alex MacDougall shouldn’t take long. I might have to duck inside the pub for it. ”

Trevor leans over the desk, his shirt stretches with the movement showing off defined muscles in his back, and grabs his puffer vest from the chair.

He slips it on, looking every bit the part of a sexy New England innkeeper.

“No worries, I’ll watch Hades. Jo invited her cousin Alaric and his boyfriend, I think Ever and Dmitri are coming, and, knowing Maplewood, more people will show up.

He’ll have so many new friends to meet, he won’t miss you. ”

“Thanks.”

Trevor and Jo wave to a man with short, bubblegum pink hair who’s stepped behind the desk. Before Hades can decide that he wants to make yet another friend, I guide him outside.

The wind scatters gold and orange leaves over the pathway. I’ve missed the changing of the seasons here, with the mountains in the distance. It’s so peaceful. I suck in a breath, letting the crisp autumn air fill my lungs and wonder again why I stayed away for so long.

Bandit barrels out the door ahead of Trevor, and our dogs greet each other like it’s been days, not minutes, since they parted, entangling their leashes.

Laughing, I change hands, unwinding the straps. “I don’t know if The Striped Maple is ready for you two.”

“They’ll be all right,” Trevor assures me, then looks down at the dogs as if he needs his own assurance. “Won’t you?”

Ugh, could this man be any more adorable?

In a good friend kind of way, of course.

As we walk the few blocks to the pub, chatting like no time has passed, a wave of nostalgia hits me.

Memories of Halloweens trick-or-treating with Trevor, Jo, and Ever.

Summers exploring the woods looking for Mabel.

Winters sledding and skating. And weekends at the Playhouse watching movies as spring showers battered the streets.

Even now, after decades away, I consider the friends I made in Maplewood to be my closest.

A large banner hanging across Maple Avenue advertises Maplewood’s Fun and Fright Fest. I point to it. “What goes on at the Halloween festival? It didn’t exist when I lived here.”

“There’s costume parades for pets and kids, a corn maze, craft activities, and local vendors selling their wares on the Saturday before Halloween.

” Trevor ticks each one off on his fingers, and I remember he was on the committee for several years.

“A pumpkin carving contest, and music from local bands.”

“Plus a house decorating contest which starts two weeks before Halloween, the week-long haunted house at the inn during the week of Halloween, and adult trick-or-treating on Halloween night, after the kids are finished,” Jo adds.

“That’s a lot.” And it sounds fun. I wonder if I could stretch out my stay so I can experience it.

“And it gets bigger every year. Case in point, Cryptid Night.”

The pub is on the same street as Ever’s shop. After we’re seated at a table on the patio, under rows of fairy lights, Trevor shoots him a text letting him know where we are.

Our table is close to one of the portable heaters. It’s warm enough for me to shrug out of my jacket. I slip the leather over the back of my chair.

Trevor’s gaze rakes over me and for a moment, I swear heat flares in his brown depths. “Nice shirt.”

Oh, right. The flannel. I look down, then smile at him. “You said I could help myself.”

“And I meant it. You look good.” Clearing his throat, he rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “Ah… Let’s get drinks.”

We leave the dogs with Jo so she can flag down Ever, Alaric, and their significant others.

Stationed at the outdoor bar at the patio’s center, a redheaded bartender gives us a winning smile. Then he winks at my best friend. “Trevor, looking good tonight.”

I can’t stop the fine blade of possessiveness stabbing my gut or the way my hand clamps onto Trevor’s shoulder.

His green eyes twinkling, the guy shifts his attention to me and gives my hand a deliberate stare. “And who’s this?”

“Bram Macleod.” My jaw tight, I keep my hold on Trevor. My tone isn’t as friendly as it should be, considering I don’t personally know this guy and Trevor’s never mentioned being interested in a flirty ginger bartender. But what if he is? I don’t like it. At all.

“Oh, you’re Bram.” He smiles. “I should’ve recognized the Macleod blue eyes. Gorgeous color.”

The muscles under my hand tense. Trevor presses closer to me, edging the barest bit forward. Like maybe he’s trying to block me from Conall’s view?

Conall continues, “You probably don’t remember me. I’m Conall Kelly. My brother Rory is friends with your brother Charlie.”

“Oh. Right. I know Rory.” Come to think of it, Conall resembles his brother, with the green eyes and red hair. “And yeah, I don’t think you and I met when I lived here.”

Conall looks like he’s about thirty, so he’s five years younger than Charlie and Rory.

His tee with The Striped Maple’s logo pulls tight over his chest as he wipes the bar.

“Welcome back to Maplewood. Everyone’s talking about your upcoming investigation.

I know we’re offering a drink special for your attendees. What can I get you tonight?”

“Whatever you have on tap is fine.” I turn my head toward Trevor. He’s so close, my lips nearly graze his temple. “Trev, what do you want?”