Page 41 of One Hot Moment

"Neither have I." A few more swipes on my phone net me more destinations. "Ooh, I'd love to visit this place on our way home. The historic village of Old Salem. It's right on the way."

"Is that where witches were burned at the stake?"

"Yeah, I think so. But Old Salem is more than witch trials." I scroll through a list of search results until I find a few more cool places to visit. "Thomas Jefferson's old house, Monticello, is open to the public. That could be interesting."

"A bit of American history? I'd love that."

"Once we get to Asheville, there are quite a few touristy places we could visit. There's Helen's Bridge, which is supposedly haunted, and a pinball museum too."

Spencer grins. "I was a pinball wizard when I was a boy."

"Ooh, what about the Moogseum?"

"Ah, what in the bloody hell is a Moogseum? It sounds like a torture chamber."

I laugh and punch his arm lightly. "Haven't you ever heard of Bob Moog? He invented the synthesizer. Modern music owes a massive debt to his pioneering efforts."

"You're quite the Moog aficionado, eh?"

"Not really. But I watched a documentary about him a few years ago. It was fascinating."

"Then we should stop there on our way home."

It's my turn to grin. "Can't believe I'm so excited about seeing museums dedicated to pinball machines and synthesizers."

"Don't forget the witches and the ghost."

I relax into my seat, feeling so good that I don't even take the time to worry about what Spencer will think of my family. He lets me take command of the radio, and I plug my phone into the USB jack so we can enjoy my favorite tunes. I asked Spencer if he had any music on his phone, but he said no.

"Mobile phones are for making calls, pet. Radios are for listening to music."

"You're kind of behind the times, but that's okay. I hope you don't mind if I sing along to the music."

"I would love to hear you sing." He winks at me. "You never know, I might join in."

For the next several hours, we listen to a hodgepodge of music styles, everything from eighties synth pop to hard rock to sappy seventies ballads and so much more. Spencer does indeed join me in a sing-along. We have so much fun that I barely notice how long the drive took, and before I know it, we're entering Asheville.

"Where do we go now?" Spencer asks. "I have no idea how to find your family's home."

A thread of anxiety wends through me, but I rip it out and fling it into an invisible trash can. Spencer won't be horrified by what he's about to see. Considering what he's told me about his family and friends, he'll be fine when he meets the Remingtons. I offer to drive the rest of the way, but Spencer dismisses the idea.

"Just point me in the right direction, love."

Exactly seventeen minutes after he spoke those words, we pull off the paved road and start down a gravel two-track surrounded by woods. A couple of minutes later, the trees thin out to reveal a large clearing---and several structures. I had sent my sister a text when we were getting close to Asheville, so everyone should be ready and waiting for us.

Yep, there they are.

The gravel drive ends about twenty feet from the largest structure. Spencer parks behind the other two vehicles that sit nearby, and we get out of the car, yawning and stretching. Wow, that was a long drive. I'd almost forgotten how tiring it is just to ride in the passenger seat.

A shriek echoes through the clearing.

Spencer jerks. "What the bloody hell was that?"

Before I can explain, a figure emerges from behind the closest building, racing toward me with arms outstretched. When she reaches us, she flings her arms around me. Her embrace becomes so firm that it's hard to breathe. "Ease up, would you? I'm on the verge of passing out from lack of oxygen."

She finally releases me, taking two steps backward. Then her attention shifts to Spencer, and one side of her mouth kicks upward. "Who is that?"

I hook my arm around Spencer's, feeling oddly protective. "This is my boyfriend, Spencer Halfenaked. Spencer, this is my sister, the very annoying Sabrina Remington."

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