“Never,” I whisper back.
Over at the table, Tyler has gotten tired of waiting for his beloved PoisonedRose to message him. He messages her instead, and I can tell the exact moment she gets it. “Hold on,” Roxie says. “Something just came up.”
I bite back a grin. While I wait for them to finish flirting over DMs, I scribble down a few more entries for Alice’s fishbowl gift, just for fun.
Enemies to lovers.
Secret identity.
Hate kisses.
I’m not even sure what hate kisses are, but if any two people were going to have them, it’s Tyler and Roxie.
As they send messages back and forth, I can still hear Alice typing away upstairs, hard at work, and I can’t help smiling. I asked her how her new book was going on our walk earlier, andthe joy on her face was everything. The fact that she’s been up there working since dinner, that she couldn’t wait to get back to her book, only makes it better.
Then everything takes a turn.
Tyler is still messaging my sister when we hear the crash upstairs. There’s a thud and a bang, and then Alice shrieks in terror. Cookie is the first to react. Springing off Lydia’s lap with an earsplitting bark, he bolts up the stairs, and I’m right behind him.
Alice stumbles out of the guest room before I can reach her. She’s wearing her Regency maid outfit, and she looks absolutely adorable—but I can’t enjoy it; I can’t even enjoy her little Betsy Ross bonnet. Not when my girl is in danger.
Cookie sprints past her, heading straight into the guest room like he’s looking for trouble. Alice tries to stop him as they cross paths, but her skirt tangles and she loses her balance, her body pitching sideways as she stumbles down the stairs. I spring forward to catch her. Grabbing her with both hands as I pull her body against mine.
So we meet again…
We stare at each other, breathless, and then her words spill out in a frantic jumble.
“Raccoon,” she wheezes. “Angry,angryraccoon. Must. Save. Cookie.”
We bolt toward the guest room with the Sharps on our heels, but we’re too late. Physically, Lydia’s dachshund is fine, but emotionally, that dog might never be the same.
The ghost squirrel turned raccoon is standing in the open window like a supervillain. He has Cookie’s beloved stuffed bee gripped in his teeth, and that raccoon makes a run for it before anyone can stop him. Diving outside and disappearing like a bandit.
Cookie lets out a lonesome howl, but it’s no use. His bee is gone—he’s been robbed.
Chapter Forty
ALICE
Charlie’s house doesn’t have air-conditioning. It’s a thousand degrees in this guest room, but Lydia and I leave the windows shut. Cool night breezes aren’t worth it if they come with a side of raccoon.
Falling asleep is impossible. I blame the warm air for my warm thoughts as I toss and turn. Every time I close my eyes, I think about Charlie, but it’s the sweetest form of torture.
Tormenting myself a little more, I open the photo app on my phone and scroll through my vacation pictures. Going all the way back until I reach my favorite, the selfie I took with Charlie on my first day, when we were parked at that scenic overlook. We seem so happy together, both of us making faces for the camera, and my heart aches.
How can I like someone this much and not be their type?
I’m not sure if he’s still awake. With the windows closed, I can’t hear the exhaust fan from his art shed outside. I can’t tell if he’s out there right now, if I should sneak across the lawn to join him.
That isn’t a very Alice thing to do, but maybe it’s the right thing. Would we have another quiet conversation if I did, likethe last time I went to his art shed? Or would it be better than a conversation?
Would he flirt with me again like we’re back on that picnic blanket? All alone this time, just for us?
If everything he did today was an act—if it was all just for show—now would be the perfect time to find out. Before I can throw back the covers and press my luck, my phone vibrates with a text from the last person on earth I’d ever want to talk to. A man who is one house away, staying at a haunted bed-and-breakfast with his new girlfriend.
Jason:How did your sister’s appointment go?
I stare at that message for a good long time. It’s a little late at night for an ex text, but also—he remembered my sister’s big eye appointment?He was there when I set it up, and I mentioned how nervous I was. But Jason never seemed to care—and he definitely didn’t want to talk about it.