Page 91 of Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places
“Does anythingelsehave a smell?” The tone he used wasunfamiliar enough to make her frown. Not quite irritated or even frustrated, but everything wasn’t okay.
Lucky worried at her hands. “Sometimes intentions can. Depends on what they are. I think I can also smell Hennessee House.”
“The house?Specifically?” He seemed surprised. “Since when?”
“Since the beginning.” Lucky wasn’t sure if she should tell him more. It’d only been a few days since she realized it herself while making her daily self-tape and recapping Maverick’s visit. He seemed a bit shaken but asked, “It’s the peppermint, isn’t it?”
“I figured it out because you brought me coffee.” She nodded. “On my second day, while you talked to Rebel on the porch, I smelled cinnamon first—my favorite cinnamon latte was my initial scent, like how my perfume is yours. I really didn’t have a memory associated with peppermint until it accidentally gave me one.”
Maverick’s reluctance was written all over him—his tense jaw, furrowed brow, the concerned look in his eyes. He wanted to know but also desperately didn’t. “How did it do that?” He spoke quickly as if he were trying to bite back the sentence while it left him.
“I think the house lost the synesthesia battle.” Lucky kissed the tip of his nose to illustrate her point. She wished she had the ability to calm him, to cover and soothe his worries with her assuredness. Kisses would have to do. “When it tried to make me smell cinnamon the second time, my ability automatically kicked in. It recognized the house’s intentions and decided to classify it, but my brain couldn’t really handle them both being active at the same time. That’s why it hurt so bad—I overloaded.”
“Same as Eunice.” Remembrance sparked behind his eyes.Lucky had overloadedtwice. Her reaction during the readings had been substantially worse, but both were symptoms of the same root cause—shewasclashing with Hennessee too.
“But it’s different for me—listen,” she said quickly. “Exhaust fumes means rot. Spoiled meat means dangerous. Sawdust means harmless. Peppermint means Hennessee is up to something.” She smiled, wistful and overjoyed to share her discoveries with someone she trusted. “I think that also explains why I haven’t smelled cinnamon again. I can’t anymore. My ability overpowers it every time. Interacting with the house is making me stronger.”
That admission had officially stressed Maverick the hell out. He opened his mouth, silently closed it, and shook his head. At a complete loss for words, he stared at the ground with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Her feeble apology seemed to snap him out of it. He exhaled and took her hand as they sat down on the bench. She angled her body toward him, ready to listen to whatever he had to say. Because something was definitely coming. She braced herself for the worst, hoped for the best, and prayed she didn’t ruin the day by being too weird.
“You don’t ever have to apologize for who you are. Not with me,” he said with sincerity. “It’s just I, uh, put some precautions in place for today.”
“I heard.”
He laughed lightly, then looked at her. “But this isn’t something you can turn off for a day to relax. It’s never going to be ‘just work’ for you. You can’t clock out or quit or walk away. It’s a part of your life, all the time, forever.”
He spoke to her but she sensed the words were for himself. He was trying—she couldseehim trying to accept it. Her.
“As far as I know.” She shrugged, biting her lip. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” He nodded, squeezing her hand. “Why did you decide to read and translate for Silvia?”
“I was sad.”
“Does reading people make you feel better?”
“No, but being myself does,” she said. “I’ve never liked hiding who I am. I did it—I do itbecause I always think I have to. I didn’t want to meet your family stuck in that mindset. It was important to me to not be that way for once.”
“And I was trying to do the opposite. You seemed nervous about meeting my parents. I didn’t want you to have to worry aboutanything.” He opened his arms, gesturing for her to come to him. “We really should’ve talked about this beforehand.”
“Lesson learned.” She fell into him, holding on as tightly as she could. His scent pierced through the rot, precise and clean, overtaking and then blocking it.
“I fully support you being yourself at all times, but you should know you freaked Silvia out. Her reaction was a lot like Georgia’s when you translated for Rebel except funnier,” he said. “I told her you’re open to questions. I’m sure she’ll talk to you soon.”
“She loves you.”
“I know. She also talks too much.”
Lucky wished there was a way to stay inside this moment Maverick made for them, but she knew they wouldn’t be alone for long. She kissed him as if they’d never be interrupted anyway—both insistent and languid until time meant nothing.
They thankfully heard Rebel before they saw her.
“Dad, why are you all the way back here?” Rebel and Beanie approached the bench. “I’ve been looking for youeverywhere.”
Maverick and Lucky had separated, but still sat close together. “Sorry. We needed a minute to talk about something important. What’s up?”
