Mountain Charm Read online

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Maddie’s hands were on her hips. “It’s closing time!”

  “And I couldn’t be happier. You’ve been so preoccupied with the spell you haven’t even wished me a happy birthday.”

  She narrowed her hazel eyes.

  “Happy birthday, you skeptic.”

  Angelina laughed and began to empty the register. With the day’s slow sales, doing the evening bookkeeping would be a breeze.

  “You have to believe in true love,” Maddie said as she followed her partner back to the office, “otherwise, he’ll never show up.”

  Angelina sighed and sat down behind the desk. “First of all, the spell doesn’t stipulate he’ll arrive today.”

  “I know, but your parents met on Celia’s twenty-first birthday.”

  “Yes, but my grandmother met my grandfather almost a year after she turned twenty-one. It’s not time-specific, Maddie.”

  “You mean I might have to wait a whole year?”

  Angelina smirked. “My deepest apologizes. And for your information, I do believe in true love. My parents were proof that it exists. I just don’t believe blowing out a candle and singing some silly song on my thirteenth birthday is going to make the man of my dreams appear out of thin air to sweep me off my feet.”

  “He’s out there somewhere,” Maddie said, sighing dejectedly, as if it were her heart on the line. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Mom wanted to bake me a cake, so I’m headed home.”

  She frowned. “You’ll never meet him at home, Angelina.”

  “Who knows, Maddie. Maybe he’s waiting for me on my front porch.”

  “Do you promise to call me if he is?”

  Her eyes were wide, and she sounded desperately hopeful, so Angelina resisted the urge to laugh at the silliness of it all. Instead, she made a vow to her best friend.

  “Absolutely, Maddie. If there’s a man waiting for me on my front porch, you’ll be the first person I’ll call.”

  It was dusk by the time Angelina drove out of town and up the winding mountain road that would lead her home. The sky was a pinkish-orange as the sunset lingered just above the trees. Rain was still falling, but it was nothing more than a light shower as it gently tapped against the windshield.

  Angelina couldn’t wait to get home. She wanted to curl up on the couch, eat a slice of birthday cake, and forget all about the curse.

  By the time she reached the house, the rain had all but diminished. The fog was still dense, but it wasn’t so thick that she couldn’t see the black SUV parked in her mother’s driveway.

  Or the man sitting on her front porch.

  There are moments in a person’s life that absolutely shake them to their core. Moments that make them re-evaluate their every thought, their every decision.

  This was Angelina’s moment.

  And she couldn’t muster the courage to step out of the car.

  Instead, she flexed her trembling fingers around the steering wheel and tried to comprehend the scene right before her disbelieving eyes.

  There was a man on her porch.

  Even through the fog, she could tell he was a handsome man.

  And she couldn’t be sure, but he appeared to be around her age.

  A man born in her decade.

  A dazed Angelina glanced ahead, and through the mist, she took a long look at the black vehicle parked in her spot.

  With Davidson County plates.

  Nashville.

  In an instant, the moment was shattered. Her short-lived astonishment gave way to something far more familiar—something bitter and suspicious and just downright pissed.

  Feeling ridiculous, Angelina furiously slammed her car door and stalked toward the porch. This wasn’t her true love. Not at all. This was that snooping reporter from Nashville, and he was at her house, on her porch.

  And petting her dog.

  The man’s eyes widened as she approached, and by the time she reached the steps, he was already on his feet. Cash, traitor that he was, gave an unenthusiastic bark and rushed to Angelina’s side.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  The man looked a little stunned.

  “I’m Dylan Thomas.” His eyes were a deep brown and his voice was kind. Thanks to her rage, both features were fairly easy for Angelina to ignore. “You must be Celia’s daughter. Wow, I heard you were beautiful, but—”

  “Dylan Thomas?” Angelina muttered coldly, interrupting his compliment. “What kind of person names their kid after some drunken Welsh poet?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the same kind of person who names their dog after their favorite country music singer.”

  Angelina’s eyes narrowed.

  “Oh, Angelina, you’re home!” Celia’s voice cut through the tension as she carried a tray out onto the porch. “I was just getting Mr. Thomas a slice of your cake.”

  “Mrs. Clark, please. I’ve asked you to call me Dylan.” He smiled at the woman before sitting back down in the rocking chair with his plate.

  Cash seemed torn, looking between the stranger and his owner, before finally releasing a resigned whine and plopping down at Angelina’s feet.

  The man has charmed both my mother and my dog.

  “Dylan has driven all the way from Nashville to meet us,” Celia said.

  “Dylan is here to write a story about our family. Did he tell you that? Did he tell you he’s been all over town, asking questions about us?”

  “He mentioned it, yes.” Celia smiled at the man before turning her attention back to her daughter. “You know, it’s getting a bit chilly. I think I’ll go find a good book and crawl into my warm bed. Give you two the chance to get acquainted.”

  “Mom . . .”

  Celia’s eyes danced with happiness, and it tugged at Angelina’s heart. There was no mistaking the hope there.

  Stupid spell.

  “Happy birthday, Angelina.”

  Dylan leapt to his feet, thanking Celia again for the cake and holding the screen door open as they said good night. Angelina had to admit the man was good. Those intrinsic good manners were going to charm the pants off many of the women he would encounter throughout his life.

  But not her.

  “It’s your birthday?”

  “Yes, and it was blissfully uneventful until you showed up.”

  “Beautiful and infuriating,” Dylan muttered. “Look, Angelina, I was just given this assignment yesterday. I don’t have a clue about Appalachian magic tricks or devil worshipping or whatever it is you do up in these mountains, but I have a story to write. Just let me interview you and your mom, and I’ll be back on the interstate before you can say abracadabra.”

  Instead of pointing out just how ignorant he sounded, Angelina decided what he truly needed was a strong dose of fear.

  “Actually, I do have something you need to see. A family heirloom. Wait here?”

  Excited for any useful information, Dylan’s eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. Once again, those good manners kicked in, and Dylan opened the door for her.

  Angelina raced inside the house. She hadn’t touched it in years, but she still remembered where her father kept the key to the case. She grabbed what she needed and quickly made her way back out to the porch, letting the screen door slam behind her.

  Dylan jumped out of his chair. “What the hell?”

  Angelina lifted the rifle and pointed it straight at him. He didn’t need to know the safety was on—or that the chamber was empty.

  “This is a Remington, passed down from my father and his father, also known as an Appalachian magic wand. Just watch. It’s going to make you disappear.”

  Angelina thought it was almost comical, hearing him curse and watching him leap off the porch. All the commotion caused her dog to chase after him, which only made Dylan sprint faster until he reached the sanctuary of his vehicle.

  “Are you insane?” Dylan yelled.

  “I tend
to get a little crazy when someone trespasses on my property. Leave my family alone and don’t come back!”

  He slammed the door and had to do some fancy maneuvering to get around her car, but within seconds, the only sounds Angelina could hear were Dylan’s squealing tires, Cash’s noisy bark, and her mother’s hearty laughter.

  Dylan Thomas couldn’t believe his luck.

  He should have been white-water rafting down the Mississippi. That had been his assignment until yesterday, when his editor handed him driving directions to Maple Ridge, Tennessee, to do a feature on Appalachian witchcraft.

  He was being punished. He was sure of it.

  It wasn’t as if the mountains weren’t pretty. With his trusty camera strapped around his neck, Dylan had taken some beautiful shots today. He’d even snapped a few with his phone and sent them to his mom back in Nashville. The country was gorgeous, but to live there for any extended period of time would require plenty of alcohol and quite possibly, a lobotomy.

  Throughout the day, he’d heard nothing but wonderful things about the Clarks. The mom was a sweetheart, no doubt, but the daughter . . .

  Well, the daughter was batshit crazy.

  And beautiful. Really beautiful, with gorgeous blue eyes that seemed to flash with fire. With her long black hair and fiery temper, his attraction had hit him like a cannonball. In that split second, he’d wondered what it would feel like to hold her. To kiss her.

  But then the pretty was replaced with the crazy, and she’d chased him off the porch with a shotgun.

  He wasn’t going to stand for it. He had an article to write. A job to do. And he’d be damned if some redneck witch was going to cost him this assignment.

  Even if she was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  “You didn’t call me.”

  As in most small towns, word spread fast in Maple Ridge, and the news that Angelina Clark had chased the snooping reporter off her porch with her daddy’s rifle had caused more than a few chuckles in town.

  Maddie, however, wasn’t laughing.

  “You promised, Angelina.”

  “I know. I’ve apologized repeatedly. I just didn’t think it was a big deal.”

  That was a lie. Angelina knew it would be a big deal to her best friend, which was precisely why she hadn’t called. Interestingly enough, Celia hadn’t said a word about Dylan over breakfast. But she was still laughing—louder than she’d laughed in years. In Angelina’s mind, dealing with the irritating man had been worth the aggravation for that reason alone.

  She’d missed her mother’s laughter.

  Maddie sighed. “You are exhausting! Was he cute?”

  Angelina rolled her eyes and continued dusting the glass case that housed their collection of capos and picks. She mentally noted she’d need to order more before the end of the week.

  “Ang, you have to give me something.”

  “Fine! I suppose, if forced, I’d call him handsome.”

  Maddie arched an eyebrow. “You suppose?”

  Angelina nodded.

  “Don’t get too excited there.”

  “It’s a little hard to get excited when the man is an ignorant ass.”

  Maddie’s grin was mischievous. “That’s why he’s coming to you. He needs to be educated.”

  “Well, I’m not a teacher. He’s going to have to get educated elsewhere.” Her dusting complete, Angelina grabbed her cup of tea from the register and headed toward the office. “Now, if you’re done with the interrogation, I need to make an order.”

  “If only you took your love life as seriously as you take this store!” Maddie yelled, but Angelina ignored her friend and kicked the office door shut behind her.

  To Angelina’s great relief, her partner left her alone, giving her the chance to spend a couple of hours getting caught up on paperwork. She finished the weekly order, worked on some monthly billing statements, and before she knew it, two hours had passed and it was time for lunch. On cue, Angelina’s cell phone vibrated on her desk. Certain it was Maddie asking for her lunch order, she glanced down at the screen. It was from her best friend, but the text message had nothing to do with food.

  You are such a liar. He is gorgeous.

  Dark hair, beautiful brown eyes, and looks so good standing at the register.

  Angelina had never considered carrying a weapon on a daily basis, but right at this moment, she really missed her dad’s rifle.

  With an irritated groan, she rose from her desk and flung open the office door. Hurrying to the front of the store, she stopped abruptly when she noticed two men standing at the register.

  One was Dylan Thomas, and the other was the county sheriff.

  Angelina glanced at Maddie, who was standing behind the counter with an enormous smile on her face.

  Maddie had always loved drama.

  After a quick glimpse around the store to make sure they were alone, Angelina squared her shoulders and looked Dylan Thomas straight in the eye.

  “Get the hell out of my shop.”

  Dylan spun toward the sheriff.

  “See? She’s rude, and she pulled a gun on me last night. Surely that’s a punishable offense.”

  Angelina grinned at the officer.

  “How are you doing, Jack?”

  “Oh, can’t complain.”

  Jack Prescott was biting his lip to keep from laughing. It was a habit Angelina had found cute during those three months they’d dated back in high school.

  “You sure caused a commotion last night, didn’t you?”

  “You know me, Jack. I’m protective of the things I love. My mom, my house, my dog—”

  Dylan snorted. “It really pisses you off that your dog likes me, doesn’t it?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Maddie giggled as the two glared at each other. The sheriff maneuvered his way between them.

  “Now, Angelina, you know you can’t be shooting at people . . .”

  Would this be a good time to admit the gun wasn’t loaded?

  “I didn’t shoot. I just . . . pointed it at him.”

  Dylan muttered something about crazy hillbillies, which the sheriff ignored.

  “Angelina, I talked to Celia this morning, and it seems she’s not opposed to Mr. Thomas writing his story. She made it very clear to me she wants you to cooperate with him.”

  Dylan’s smile was smug.

  “Don’t we all,” Maddie said, her voice far breathier than usual as her eyes ghosted over Dylan’s muscular frame.

  Angelina groaned.

  I am surrounded by traitors.

  Jack gingerly touched her shoulder. “We both know your mama doesn’t need any extra stress right now. Maybe this will be good for her. It’ll give her something to focus on besides the chemo, you know?”

  Dylan’s conceited grin was gone in an instant. “Chemo?”

  Jack offered Angelina a sympathetic smile just as three girls walked into the store. The teenagers were giggly as they made their way over to the CD collection.

  “No more guns,” the sheriff said quietly.

  Too emotional to reply, Angelina nodded and left them standing there while she helped her customers.

  “Dylan’s like a lovesick puppy,” Maddie said. “He’s just sitting next to the window, pretending to play with his phone, sneaking glances at you when he thinks you aren’t looking.”

  “I’m not looking.”

  “I know, and I don’t understand that at all. How can you not look at the man? So what if he was a little bit of a jerk? He’s from the city. He’s completely out of his element, and you have no valid reason for hating him except you’re scared to death his arrival proves the spell is legit.”

  “No, I hate him because he showed up at my house after spending the day digging for dirt on me and my family.”

  “That’s what reporters do.”

  “Whose side are you on?” Angelina asked a little too loudly. Dylan’s head popped up, only to drop once again as he
continued to scroll through his phone.

  “Yours, always. Just talk to him, Ang.”

  Angelina sighed. Maybe her friend was right. After all, the quicker he got his story, the quicker he’d be out of her life for good.

  “The spell is not legit,” Angelina mumbled. “And even if it is, he is not my true love, Maddie. He just can’t be.”

  Maddie laughed quietly. “Oh ye of little magical faith. I haven’t seen you that fired up in a long time. Sparks were flying.”

  “That wasn’t sparks. That was intense rage.”

  A customer asked for help with a fiddle, and Maddie promised she’d be right with him.

  “It was good to get a glimpse of the old Angelina Clark. I’ve missed her. Now go talk to him and put him out of his misery.”

  Maddie went to help the customer while Angelina tried to gather the nerve to go talk to the nosy reporter. Dylan was still sitting at the table next to the window with his eyes glued to his phone. Taking a couple of deep breaths, Angelina slowly walked toward him. He looked up, gave her a guilty smile, and shoved his phone into his pocket.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi.” Angelina glanced over her shoulder and found Maddie smiling in encouragement. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the infuriating man. “I was wondering if you were hungry.”

  Dylan looked surprised. “Hungry?”

  Angelina nodded. “I thought we could grab something to eat at the coffee shop next door. They have great sandwiches and the best tea in Maple Ridge—if you like tea. If not they have coffee or soft drinks or . . .”

  She was rambling, but he was staring up at her with those brown eyes, and for some reason, they were deeper and darker in the daylight.

  Dylan smiled and quickly jumped to his feet.

  “Lunch sounds great,” he said.

  Dylan couldn’t believe she’d invited him to lunch. He knew it was nothing more than a peace offering at her best friend’s insistence, but he’d gladly take it.

  The weather was nice, so they chose a table out on the sidewalk. Dylan ordered a turkey club while she chose the roast beef. They didn’t say a word throughout most of the meal, but more than once, he caught himself watching her. Everything about her fascinated him, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she was supposedly a witch. It was the subtle things. Like the passion in her eyes when she was angry, or the shape of her ass in those jeans.