“Maybe you should hold on to the table in case you get dizzy and overcome with love for me,” he suggested.

“I’m seated—less likely to swoon.”

“This is our test meal. Should I take notes?”

“That’s going too far,” Meghan advised drily, trying to ignore how her heart drummed like the Energizer Bunny in her chest. Her tummy, too, betrayed her by somersaulting in what felt like excitement. “I don’t believe in magic,” she said firmly. “And I’m sure you don’t either.”

“I’ve seen some stuff that I can’t explain,” he said quietly. “And why not believe in something beautiful?” He smiled, but he looked a little sad. Then he set his shoulders, rubbed his palms together. “Ready or not, let’s do this. Ladies first or should we take a bite together?”

“I can’t tell if you’re really into this or if you’re just having fun at my expense.”

“Why at your expense? I’m not trying to prove you wrong, just exploring.”

But Meghan was feeling a little more invested in this than she should.

“This is just fun. There’s history, a mystery, and good food. I’m already thinking about some other recipes we’re going to brew… ha, get it, brew, up for some unsuspecting Belmont lonely heart.”

“Do you think we’re starting aSouthern Love Spellscooking club?”

“You never know.” He wagged his fork at her. “Eyes shut or open?”

“Shut,” she said, and they each scooped up a bite of the corned beef and cabbage hash and looked at each other. Then they closed their eyes.

Meghan held her breath even though she knew she was being ridiculous.

She took a bite.

Chapter Five

“Ijust don’tunderstand what you are doing here,” Jessica said Sunday evening after Jackson had given her a casual salute, picked up his duffel, and uttered a softlet’s go, to Whiskey, leaving Meghan inappropriately bereft.

She had to stop thinking about Jackson, focus on Jessica being home.

“I mean of course you are always welcome,” Jessica said hastily. “But I wasn’t here.”

“I thought you’d be freaked out that there was a dog in the house.” Meghan sought to distract her sister. “Of course, I’ll sweep up the hair, although Jackson already vacuumed and mopped.”

“I’m sureJacksondid more than sweep and mop.” Jessica crossed her arms and instigated a stare-off, much like their mother used to when she was waiting for someone to confess, and Meghan felt twelve again.

Jessica looked at Meghan’s elevated, still swollen, wrapped ankle.

“How bad?”

“Jackson took me to the ER”—she scowled at the memory—“which was unnecessary.”

“Obviously, it was necessary. You have your ankle wrapped, your knee is swollen, and he said bruised ribs, one hairline fracture and lots of abrasions and contusions.”

“Scrapes and bruises.”

“From climbing a tree,” Jessica said in a louder tone as if Meghan’s ears had been injured.

Damn Jackson for sharing that.

“I climbed all the time as a kid,” she said sulkily, sounding like one.

Storm, expertly reading the room, kissed Jessica’s temple, said he had a few things to do at home and that he’d let them catch up.

Smart man, though now that they were alone, Meghan felt defensive. But Jessica was her sister. And the farm was partially hers. She’d always shared everything with Jessica, but now she felt tongue-tied.