Page 3 of Tangled Up In You

"I really didn't." His actions surprised her. He'd made it clear he didn't believe in what she was selling, but he was nice enough to give her an escape from Jackie Hunt.

"Is this what fell over?" Adam asked, eyeing the shelving display that was now laying on top of a table that had contained vitamin bottles and ointments, most of which were now scattered on the floor.

"That's it. I'm not completely sure what was on it, except what we can see. There's a lot to organize."

"There certainly is." His gaze swept the room, noting the crowded shelves and the dozen boxes in the middle of the store. "You have your work cut out for you." He idly picked up a piece of glass from a nearby counter. "Do you really believe this piece of glass can work some sort of miracle?"

"Crystals are minerals that can interact with the body's energy field, creating balance and alignment. They can reduce stress and enhance focus. There's archaeological evidence that amber was used for protection as far back as ten thousand years ago," she replied.

"Sounds like a very long con," he said cynically. "People will buy anything, I guess."

"Well, I don't con people out of money and neither did Phoebe. Just because you don't understand something doesn't make it false. When I get this store back in shape and running again, it will be great for the entire community. I owe Phoebe to keep her legacy alive."

He gave her a speculative look. "You owe Phoebe? Who was she to you? I know she didn't have any relatives."

"She was like a grandmother to me. She gave me a place to work and a purpose in life when I was a teenager. She had my back. Now I have hers."

Adam nodded, then suddenly started. He checked his watch. "Damn! I'm late. I have to go."

"If you change your mind about some natural healing options, they're on the house."

"If you can find them," he said dryly. He moved to the door, then paused. "Keep the lock on this door if you're not yet open for business."

"I didn't think anyone had to lock their doors in Whisper Lake."

"The town is much bigger than it used to be. Lock the door."

ChapterTwo

Adam hurrieddown the street as fast as he could on an injured foot and two crutches. Despite brushing off the fall he'd just taken, he felt a new ache in his calf and knee on his good leg. He'd probably instinctively tried to guard against re-injuring his foot. Hopefully, those aches would go away quickly and without the need for any healing crystals or lotions.

He smiled to himself, thinking it was the first time in over a week that he'd felt like smiling, but Molly Trent was something else. He'd never imagined he'd get knocked over by a beautiful woman on his way to breakfast. He'd never seen eyes with that particular shade of green on a woman. They were like cat's eyes. Her long, curly light-brown hair had felt like silk against his face. She'd also smelled of lavender—not overpowering, just tantalizing. And her body had curves in all the right places.

He shook that thought out of his head. Molly Trent might be pretty, but she was not on the same wavelength as him. He didn't believe in most of what was sold in that store. Not that there weren't believers in town. Phoebe had done a good business until she'd gotten too sick to keep up with the store. Then it had gone downhill fast.

Before that, though, she'd been thought of as part witch, part mystic, part miracle worker. With her wild red hair, raucous laugh, dramatic eyeliner, and apparently an ability to call up the spirits during her monthly séances, she'd been a legend around town.

He wondered if Molly would carry on Phoebe's traditions. He also wondered about the relationship she'd had with Phoebe. There was a story there, and he was curious as to what it was. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have time to be curious. But it had been eight days since he'd been injured in the line of duty, and he was already bored out of his mind. At least on Monday, he'd go back to desk duty. He needed to use his brain again.

He picked up his pace, hating to be late for anything, especially when he was trying to set a good example for the person he was meeting. He arrived a few minutes later at the Blue Sky Café. It was ten thirty on a Friday morning, in between the breakfast and lunch rush, so there were plenty of tables and only a few people inside the restaurant. Unfortunately, his sister Chelsea was one of them. Blonde, beautiful, and four months pregnant, Chelsea was sitting at the counter, chatting with another pretty woman, Chloe Morgan, the owner of the café.

He really should have picked another restaurant.

"Adam," Chelsea said with a happy smile. "How are you? We were just talking about you."

"Why is that?" He stopped by the counter as his gaze swept the interior of the café. He frowned when he didn't see who he was looking for.

"We're worried about you not having anything to do," Chelsea said.

"And not answering our texts or calls," Chloe put in, giving him a pointed look.

"Sorry. I was doing what the doctor ordered—resting."

"More like brooding," Chelsea said knowingly.

He ignored that comment. "How are you feeling?" he asked, noting the full bowl of oatmeal in front of her.

She sighed. "Hanging in there. Trying to get some food into my stomach without it coming back up."

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