Page 8 of The Fangirl and the Grump

“Um, I don’t know. Maybe,” she says, obviously nervous, then pushes out of her chair. “I’m going to go finish getting ready. We need to leave in an hour to catch the tour bus, forty-five minutes if we’re going to stop for bug spray.”

Then she’s gone, and I’m left feeling a bit bereft and alone. If something is going on between the three of them, why won’t they let me in?

I blow out a sigh. I’m sure they’ll tell me, eventually. Maybe they’re just being good friends, keeping their own problems at bay so they can focus on me and mine.

That could be it, right?

Yeah.

Definitely.

ChapterFour

Trace

The bell over the door jingles as I step into Moonstone Mystic. Willow looks up, and her ready smile widens when she sees it’s me.

“Good morning, Big Brother,” she says as I step up to the counter. “Your usual plain bean water with nothing added to make it pleasing to the taste buds?”

“Good morning, Willow,” I grunt, ignoring her jab at my preference of plain, black, drip coffee.

“I’m just saying,” she goes on like I actually responded to her joke, “why order regular coffee you could brew at home when there are such delicious and magnificent options to delight your senses?”

“You’re certainly chipper this morning,” I murmur as she turns to pour some black gold from the pot into a disposable paper cup.

“And you’re grumpier than usual,” she says as she turns back to face me with critical eyes. “My witchy senses are telling me something’s off this morning. What happened?”

“You don’t have any witchy senses,” I grumble, my eyes scanning the rest of the shop as I take a sip of my drink.

While one half of Moonstone Mystic looks like a hipster java shop, the other half is filled with racks and shelves of crystals, divining rods, incense sticks, and other woo-woo items I don’t have the first clue what they are. Willow presents herself as some kind of spiritual creature to the tourists, but it’s all smoke and mirrors meant to help her turn a larger profit.

“Watch your words, Brother. I might put a hex on you,” she replies, wiggling her fingers in my direction. When I roll my eyes, she huffs. “Jesus, you really are in a bad mood today. What happened?”

“Nothing,” I say, my jaw tightening with anger.

“Are you constipated? I have some Senna tea that’ll clean you right out.”

“Christ, Willow,” I hiss, my eyes darting over to the couple sitting at a nearby table sipping lattes. “I’m not constipated.”

“Then tell me what’s wrong.”

I huff out a long breath and lean over the counter so I can speak low enough that only she’ll hear the words. “It’s the weekend madness. I keep getting stopped for pictures, and last night at the tavern, a drunk girl howled at me after shouting that fucking nickname.”

Her chin quivers as she tries to hold back a grin, and I straighten with a sigh. I knew I’d get exactly zero sympathy from her. Holding up a palm in the universal signal for “stop,” I turn to go without another word.

“Oh, come on, Trace,” she calls out to my retreating back. “There are worse things than being likened to a sexy alpha wolf daddy.”

I stop, my back going ramrod straight with those last two words. As her tinkling laughter follows, I heave a sigh and pull the door open, stalking out without even looking back at her. I love my sister more than anything on this planet, but sometimes, I want to throttle the shit out of her.

When I make it back to the inn after waiting for that infernal tour bus to pass, I blow out a breath of relief and walk into the main office. Moving behind the large desk to sit, I sip my coffee before setting it down and waking up the computer. Opening my bookkeeping software, I’m pleased to see the profits from the inn and my rental properties are on a trajectory to be higher than last month.

Pulling up the booking server I use, I go over the reservations. The inn is booked to capacity every weekend for the next seven weeks, then every single day the following week and the week after that. My lips tighten into a thin line, my pleasure tinged with irritation.

The reason we’re booked solid for those two weeks is because the town is holding a Cursed convention-slash-reunion celebration. This place is going to be crawling with even more tourists than usual.

Great.

Refocusing, I check my other rental properties. Lycan Lodge is completely wide open after the current renters leave tomorrow, but I don’t anticipate that lasting long. My smaller properties have reservations booked for every weekend up until the convention.

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