Addicted to You Page 4

  Turning about in the room, I took in all the familiar sights that still pulled at my heart and memories. We spent countless nights sitting in front of the now abandoned fireplace—both he and I with our books opened, a comfortable silence enveloping us as we read. Many discussions had been shared across the small dining room table—some that would cause my aunt’s eyebrows to rise so high that they’d fall over the top of her head and down her back. My grandfather always nurtured my love of facts and learning. There was never a topic we couldn’t tackle together, and some of my earliest childhood recollections came from the tidbits he shared over a meal with me.

  I shrugged, not really knowing how to answer her. It had always been an expectation that one day I’d make the decision and move everything over. It made a ton of sense, considering I worked downstairs. Maybe that was why I hadn’t made the leap yet. It was nice having a separation between business and personal.

  Besides, the grief I still harbored over the loss of a most beloved patriarch hadn’t faded enough for my liking. In the back of my mind, I still held the belief that he was tinkering around while I worked downstairs. I wasn’t ready to let go of the fantasy.

  I eventually pointed over to the closed door. “Help yourself.” Wrapping my arms around myself tightly, I was ready to just leave her up here to figure it out. “I’ll see you back downstairs.”

  “You’re not going to assist?” My reluctance to stay was nothing surprising. Her gaze sharpened as though she could somehow break me by sheer will. Then something completely unexpected happened. I would later wonder if I’d imagined it.

  Her facial muscles relaxed, and I caught a small glimpse of whom she might have been.

  “Sedona, I know I’m not the most pleasant to be around, but I ask that we put aside our differences long enough so I can find the answers I’m seeking.” There was a foreign tone to her plea. It was with a gasp that I realized she was being one hundred percent sincere. “Please.”

  It was with that same earnestness that I heard myself replying I would.

  I hadn’t entered my grandfather’s magic room since his death, and now I was willingly following my aunt inside.

  Hell must’ve frozen over.

  That or the purple pig had sprouted wings and was now circling overhead.

  For whatever reason, there was one thought that stuck.

  Aunt Millicent had said please.

  Holy crap.

  “Consider what I said carefully, Sedona. That’s all I ask.”

  To say the past few hours upstairs with my aunt was like visiting the Twilight Zone would have been an understatement. It had been hard to trust the softer side she showed me—that niggly voice in the back of my head warning me that this was some kind of trap intended to manipulate me.

  But over the course of three hours, I’d laughed more with my aunt than I could remember ever doing before. I caught myself opening up and sharing some of the memories I had with my grandfather. Where I expected some snide comment or caustic remark, Aunt Millicent was attentive and genuine in her reactions. It was as if some kind of temporal shift had happened, and this was a new reality where we actually got along.

  As we walked back downstairs and toward the front door, a sense of regret filled me. I didn’t want this visit to end. I actually liked the woman my aunt could be—that is, if she ever stopped nagging me.

  So when she turned one last time and asked me to ponder our discussion, that old familiar feeling of frustration flared back into existence. Her new personality had run its course, and today would slip into the shadows again, something I would later count as a fluke.

  I nodded reluctantly, already regressing to our old, familiar patterns. “Sure.”

  Compassion filled her gaze. Maybe I hadn’t imagined this afternoon. “Things are stirring up in town, and we all must be prepared. That’s another reason why I push you so hard. I want you to have every chance of surviving it.” There was a small, sharp inhale as her expression turned to panic. She’d disclosed something she shouldn’t have. “You have so much of your mother in you.”

  I scrunched my forehead. That was a weird subject change.

  “She was this stubborn?” I fired back, already knowing the answer.

  It was something that my grandfather celebrated, and one of the many character flaws my aunt liked to point out. I always felt a tinge of pride at the reminder that I was my mother’s daughter.

  There was that look of exasperation I’d been waiting for. With a slight eye roll, Aunt Millicent shook her head like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with me. “Yes, but my point was that she failed to accept the power she held and the responsibility she shouldered in wielding it.”

  I hated that every conversation seemed to devolve into the same argument.

  “It’s called a choice,” I answered, annoyed that after all this time, she still couldn’t accept this fundamental truth. “We get to decide what’s best for us. What makes us happy. What we want to pursue, and what we’d rather let go of. We decide the priorities and important things in our life.”

  Gone was the soft undertone from my voice as disappointment followed with the realization that this . . . this would always be the relationship we had.

  “I never pictured you the coward.” Her abrupt judgment felt like a slap in the face.

  I swung open the front door and stepped to the side. “And I didn’t imagine someone who claimed to love me would actually hurt me.” I gestured outside. “I think it’s best you leave now.”

  “You always were overly dramatic. I suppose that’s what comes with spending your life with your head in the clouds and nose in a book.” She stood in the doorway, peering down her nose at me. “Forgive me for thinking after all you suffered with Austin and the questions your boyfriend keeps asking, you’d be begging for my help in sharpening your abilities.” She had the nerve to tut and shake her head like she was the victim here. It was even lower for her to try to manipulate me using Micah and the mysterious Collector.

  Micah had said he was trying to find out information about the one I truly held responsible for Austin and the attempt to kidnap Holly.

  “Enough,” I blurted out as my eyes began filling with tears. “I need you to hear me. I am not the Sedona you have all these expectations for. I’m not some pawn to control. I’m not your doll to dress up and play with. I’m sorry that I’m not this perfect niece that you can show off around the water cooler. I’m sure it’s a source of embarrassment, but I am who I am. If you can’t accept that—accept me—then maybe it’s time we finally end this charade and call it quits.”

  My chest tightened. My heart ached. I loved my aunt, but there came a point where enough was enough.

  “Confidence. That’s all you’re lacking.”

  The sense of utter letdown was suffocating. She hadn’t listened to a single word.

  “Good night, Millicent.” Closing the door on her, I slid the lock into place, and turned around with my back against the frame. Tears streamed down my cheeks. My body felt as though I’d just been hit by a freight train, exhaustion setting in.

  I don’t know how long I stood there quietly crying. At some point I felt Maxwell appear and saw him from the corner of my eye, but then he disappeared. I was grateful for the ghost’s reluctance in finding out what was wrong, because I still had no idea of the right way to explain the rollercoaster of emotions I was going through.

  How could I say out loud that I would never be anything more than a tool to be used by the only immediate family I had in town?

  How could I acknowledge the truth that I’d kept buried inside—that even after all the many hurtful actions and comments, I still harbored the secret desire to one day be a true family?

  This last discussion had shattered that fragile hope I’d somehow managed to keep protected all these years. It was time to grow up and face reality.

  It was time to let go.

  Chapter 5

  If it wasn’t for the fact that I knew Hav
enwood Falls wasn’t capable of insanely hot temperatures, I would’ve bet my life I was experiencing a heat wave. It had started when I’d peeled off my sheets and comforter this morning and had steamrolled through my day until I was forced to resort to using a spray bottle filled with the iciest, coldest water I could find.

  The temptation to run upstairs and stand in front of the freezer was crippling, and as another trickle of sweat rolled down the center of my back, it was everything I could do not to yell out that the bookstore was closed.

  It was stifling and unbearable.

  It was also embarrassing, because nobody else had any idea what I was carrying on about. Micah’s thick flannel shirt made me want to shred the garment from his body. He was wearing too much, and just the sight of him made me feel claustrophobic in my own skin.

  I spritzed myself again.

  And again.

  Damn, it was nauseatingly hot.

  “Maybe I should take you to the doctor?” Micah asked, for what felt like the millionth time. It didn’t matter that he could heal me with a mere touch of his hand. He’d declared the thermometer I’d stashed in the first aid kit was faulty, even as the tiny display screen revealed that I wasn’t running a fever.

  “Other than the heat, I feel fine.” I plastered a smile across my face like it would convince him. “Why waste the doctor’s time if it’s just a twenty-four-hour thing?”

  “Perhaps you’re going through the change,” Maxwell announced, choosing this moment to appear. “Although you are a tad too young to be affected by such a malady.”

  I wanted to throttle the ghost for even suggesting it. “This isn’t menopause, you ill-mannered pain in my butt!”

  If it was even possible, I felt my cheeks grow hotter. I pressed my hands against my warm skin. That was the other conundrum.

  I was hot from the inside, but normal to the touch.

  Micah reached out and felt my forehead for himself. “I don’t like this,” he murmured. “Maybe you should go home and rest. I can watch over things here if you’re worried about the store.”

  While lying about on the couch with a book in my hand seemed heavenly and inviting, my extra-long to-do list wouldn’t allow it.

  “Which brings me to the real reason why I asked you to come today.” This next part was exciting, and I couldn’t help the butterfly feeling in my stomach. New things and projects always gave me a good case of nervous jitters. I picked up the top piece of paper from the flyers I’d just finished printing out.

  I held it up to show him and Maxwell. “What do you think?”

  Micah’s eyes moved back and forth as he silently read the information. “You want to host a book swap here at the store?”

  My nod was a little too enthusiastic, but I didn’t try to curb it. I couldn’t help my passion for reading.

  “Yep, well, actually out in the street, but yeah. I’ve already gotten the town council’s approval, and I know it’s short notice—” I paused as panic rose up my throat mid-sentence. When the idea had come to me early this morning while I was showering, I’d worried that three days wasn’t enough time to make arrangements and organize the event. It wasn’t until everything started falling into place that I gave myself permission to believe. Hopefully, it would be the first of many.

  “It is, but I have faith you can do it, my sweet girl.” Maxwell had tossed aside his usual sarcastic comments, and instead wore a look of pride. “Give you something else to focus on besides that witch whom I won’t mention.” For someone I’d only really known for the past few years since I started running Shelf Indulgence, Maxwell was fiercely protective when it counted. Phantom tears had filled his own eyes when I’d entered this morning. He’d heard it all last night, and it had pained him to witness it. “You’ve got this one to help as well, although I don’t think he can hear me.” So far, Micah hadn’t acted like he saw the resident spook. I didn’t bother questioning it. Their relationship was an odd one.

  “The ghost is right,” Micah added, finally acknowledging him.

  “Ooooh, so he does see me!” That seemed to put the proverbial firecracker beneath Maxwell as his ghostly eyes flashed brightly.

  For the first time today, Micah turned to where Maxwell was standing with a smirk. “I have no problem seeing you. I just choose not to.”

  I burst out laughing, which in turn made the guys smile wider.

  “Play nice.” I reached out and slapped Micah across the chest. The movement caused a ripple of desire to flood my body. He was like a walking contradiction—he was all muscles and hardness, his physique in what could only be described as glorious shape. But I’d also experienced what others might consider the polar opposite—in his arms, I could feel the softness of those same muscles as he wrapped me up in his protective embrace.

  Soft and hard.

  My gaze dropped for a moment as the word hard echoed and bounced around inside my brain. It wasn’t the first time my thoughts went to a slightly more intimate place. There was so much about Micah I didn’t know about yet, but there was one thing I was pretty certain about.

  I was excited to explore new possibilities with him.

  I’m ready to explore him, came my low, lustful voice.

  “So you want me to go hand these out and spread the word?” He had no idea that I’d been quietly undressing him in my mind. That ignorance made me blush, making me wonder if I’d ever be brave enough to act on my inner brazenness. We’d had some pretty intense make-out sessions, but Micah had wanted to take things slowly.

  His request had all but blown my mind. Usually I was the one throwing on the brakes when the guys I dated headed straight to the bedroom. The fact that he was the one to slow it down simply intrigued me more. He was different. I loved that about him.

  I quickly nodded when I realized they were both waiting for my answer. “Yes, please. The sooner people know, the better I can breathe and stop telling myself I’m crazy for doing it.”

  Micah read over the flyer again. “You worry too much. I think this is an awesome thing, and after you work your magic, it’ll go perfectly.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Plus, maybe it’ll clear up some space for new inventory.”

  This time I did know my cheeks reddened. I wasn’t used to someone being that attentive and remembering random outbursts and comments I made. I’d said some off-the-cuff thing about wanting to bring in a whole new collection of books and updating the store’s online catalog. Of course, Micah would remember and bring it up right when I needed to hear it.

  I refused to let his hand go. “That’s the hope.” That’s when a pang of sadness returned, and I cast a sidelong glance at the applications I’d been ignoring. “I shouldn’t have procrastinated. If all goes well, this place will be too busy for just one person.” When Maxwell cleared his throat, I added, “And ghost.” He winked his gratitude at finally being included.

  “Actually, that’s the perfect segue into something I wanted to run by you.” Micah was doing his best impersonation of the Cheshire Cat. “How would you feel if Holly took over Austin’s position?”

  It was so not what I thought he would ask.

  “I’ve thought about it too many times to count and disregarded it, because I know how cautious you are with her. Why?” I zeroed in on him and studied his body language. Just out of curiosity, I reached out with my empathic skills to see what he was feeling. Nothing. Even here, alone, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—lower his guard.

  He caught me in the act. “Ask me, Sedona. Don’t try to sneak it out of me.”

  There was enough of a hint of amusement in his voice that I knew he wasn’t too mad at my being nosy.

  “I’d hire her in a heartbeat, Micah, but I honestly can’t have you standing in the corner, or stalking customers throughout the store because Holly is helping them. How many books do you think we’ll sell if people don’t want to come anymore?” I narrowed my gaze at him. “Be honest. As much as I love having you here, your bodyguard warrior mojo façade wil
l only make her uncomfortable.”

  Squeezing his hand again, I finally let it go.

  I expected Micah to argue with me. Instead, he smiled even bigger. The look he wore rivaled even the happiest child on Christmas morning. You’d have thought he’d just met Santa.

  “I found the perfect compromise. A way that Holly can get a tiny taste of independence.” There was the guardian I knew. “And you can rest easier knowing that you can toss those resumes in the trash. In fact, let me do that for you.” With one swift swipe of his hand, Micah snatched up the pile, and with a grand flourish, deposited them into the bin.

  I hated being the Debbie Downer. I didn’t always look at the negative, but life had thrown some pretty painful curveballs lately. I was trying not to be too naïve. “Problem solved, huh? Just like that.”

  His excitement was contagious. It made me want to take his face between my hands and kiss him senseless. His aura glowed brightly—the golden light shining in the flecks of his eyes.

  “Maxwell!” Micah all but boomed out his name. “How would you feel about doing a special job for me?”

  Again, my boyfriend surprised me. He wanted a ghost to babysit Holly? A being that had no corporeal body and had only recently managed to leave the store.

  I was glad to see I wasn’t the only one shocked. “While I’m flattered, Micah, I do believe I’m the wrong person for the job.” He’d understood the meaning as well.

  Micah looked like he couldn’t be so easily dissuaded. “I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out. I wouldn’t be suggesting this if I didn’t believe one hundred percent that it was a viable option. Maxwell,” he turned to the older gentleman, “you have your own special bond with Holly, so I believe you will always put her first. She spends most of her time here or at home. As much as I have loved being here and helping, there’s going to come a time when I can’t. It makes sense.”