Crescent Calling: The Crescent Witch Chronicles - Book One, R Nicole [electronic book reader .TXT] 📗

yours now.” She smiled sweetly. “Run the shop how you see fit. Decorate the cottage to your likin’.”

I stared at her in shock. But those were Aileen’s things. That she left to me. Mary was right.

“Don’t worry about the wildlife,” she added for good measure. “The worst around here is the odd deer or fox, and they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”

“I’m going to trust you,” I said. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“You cheeky thing!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “Let me fix you something for breakfast. Let me see. Tea, toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Oh, and tomato and a sausage. A big fat one. That’ll fill you right up. Nothin’ better than a little comfort food when you’re feeling down.”

“And fill out my hips and ass,” I retorted.

“Nonsense. You’re flat as a tack.” She waved her hand at me and shuffled toward the kitchen, leaving me to my own devices.

Glancing down at my boobs, which weren’t that flat, I thought about what she’d said about the local wildlife. No wolves in Ireland? It sure looked like one to me even though I’d never seen one in the flesh before. They didn’t roam Australia, either. The worst we had to worry about back home were the little critters—snakes and spiders—who knew how to hide and slither into tight spaces.

The chair across from mine scraped back, and I glanced up from my boob assessment as Boone sat down. I frowned and didn’t say a word. Truthfully, after yesterday’s excitement, I’d forgotten why I was mad at him in the first place. He’d been snippy, but it seemed trivial after almost being eaten alive by a creature that was supposed to be extinct on the shores of Ireland.

“Skye, I, uh…” He rubbed his hand along his jaw, scratching his stubbly chin. “I’m sorry, for the way I spoke to you the other night.”

I shrugged. “It seems like such a small thing now.”

“Are you okay?” His brow furrowed, and he looked me over like he was seeing me for the first time. Flat boobs and all.

“I, um…” I glanced out the window, my gaze latching onto the green treetops. How was I supposed to explain a fox—which was a quarter of the size of the wolf—attacking a predator who was about to eat me? This place was trying its darnedest to send me to the loony bin.

“Skye…” He hesitated, then pursed his lips together.

“What?” I asked, straightening up. He wanted to tell me something but thought better of it. It was written all over his face, and now I knew I really wanted to know.

“Nothing, I…” He met my gaze and smiled. “Do you accept my apology? Put me out of me misery.”

“I forgive you,” I said without hesitation. With big, sad, puppy-dog eyes like his, how could I not?

“Good. I’m glad.” He scraped his chair back and stood. “I’ll be seein’ you.”

I nodded, and he walked across the teahouse, limping slightly. He was favoring his left leg, his gait significantly off. Well, not a great deal, but enough that I noticed it.

“Boone?” I called out after him. “Are you all right? You’re limping.”

He stopped and threw me a glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m all right. I banged me knee, is all.”

He didn’t look it, but I wasn’t in the mood to press. Mr. Mysterious could have this one.

“Oh, and be careful if you go walkin’ in the woods,” he added. “Roy found some tracks around the field this mornin’.”

“Tracks?” I asked, shivering. It was much too late to heed his warning, but I didn’t let on.

“Aye, big ones.”

“What is it?”

“A wild dog maybe. Or a fox. I don’t know. I’ll be out in the fields until we can trap it, or until we’re sure it’s gone.”

I screwed my face up as an image of the wolf that had stalked me popped into my mind’s eye.

“I’ll see you around,” Boone said before disappearing outside.

Mary reappeared the moment the door closed. Setting down a plate full of the greasiest hot breakfast I’d ever seen, she stared after Mr. Mysterious.

“Oh, Boone isn’t stayin’?” the old woman bemoaned. “What a shame. He’s a good boy.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “He is.”

Chapter 10

That night, as Buddy kept me company, I fell asleep to the sound of wind howling through the trees outside. Plagued with dreams of wolves, I tossed and turned until I slipped into a deep slumber.

When dawn finally broke, I was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and my head was stuffed with cotton wool. I’d slept but not really. A heavy burden was over my heart, and my body had become twisted in the quilt, my feet trapped.

Ugh, I was all hot and sticky. I kicked, trying to shift the uncomfortable weight and turned over, but it didn’t budge. Lifting my head, my eyes cracked open, sleep still clogging my head. That was when I saw a lump at the end of the bed. A very large, man-shaped lump.

Now completely awake, I screamed, scrambling up the bed. It was Boone. A very naked Boone.

He started, his head shooting up, and when he saw me, he rolled and fell off the end of the bed, hitting the floor with a thud. Scrambling to his feet, his face turned a deep shade of crimson.

“Oh, shit,” he cursed, covering his junk with his hands. “Oh, cac.”

“Cac?” I yelled. “I’ll give you bloody Irish cac!”

Grabbing the lamp on the bedside table, I pushed up onto my knees and swung it with all my might. The plug popped out of the wall, and the shade barely missed Boone’s face, but the cord came around and whipped him directly on his bare ass.

He howled in pain and retreated across the room.

“Pervert!” I shrieked.

“Let me explain,” he said, holding up his hands and leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Explain? What’s there to explain?” I shouted, trying not to look at his you-know-what. “You were asleep on the end of my bed…naked!” I swung the lamp at