she always did. The long-sleeved black dress had a neckline that was just short of daring, a figure-hugging bodice and a pencil-thin, ankle-length skirt. The pointed black hat balanced at a cocky angle on her head. Spiders danced at the end of her dangling silver earrings. Skeleton-shaped charms hung from her necklace.
Megan wasn’t the only one who watched her cousin. Quincy’s mesmerized gaze followed Ramona’s every move.
Megan allowed herself to hope. “You’ll take Stan home?”
“Later.” Ramona shook her head. “Keep him in the kitchen, drinking coffee. I’ll take him home after I read to the kids.”
“You’ll read to them?” Quincy’s voice rose with surprise.
Ramona’s dark gaze should have turned the university professor to ashes. “Contrary to your opinion, I can read.”
Megan’s headache disappeared. Her facial muscles relaxed into a smile. “Thanks, Ramona. Let’s get started.”
Before Ramona could have second thoughts, Megan grabbed her cousin’s arm and dragged her to the front of the store. She delivered Ramona to the Halloween reading area, which she, Doreen and their student helpers had created.
After announcing story time, Megan gingerly made her way through the sea of children sprawled on the floor around Ramona. They listened, enraptured, as she started the first Halloween story. Megan had seated her cousin in an ornate red velvet throne that doubled as Santa’s chair during the Christmas season. Today, two large human skulls were staked to the seat’s high back, and two smaller ones were driven onto the chair’s arms—all fake, of course.
“What a relief.” Megan sighed as she joined Ean, Darius and Quincy at the perimeter of the entertainment.
“I told you it would work out.” Ean tossed her a smile.
“I wasn’t sure.” Megan felt his eyes on her. His attention made her self-conscious. She also felt powerful, sexy and aroused.
The children jumped after Ramona’s dramatic pause in the story. It was a talent her cousin had perfected by tormenting a much younger Megan. Ramona adopted different voices for each character in the creepy tale.
“The witch saved Halloween.” Quincy’s voice was thoughtful.
“Now there’s a headline.” Darius unwrapped the piece of chocolate he’d taken from a candy bowl. The crystal bowl was in the shape of a fake, decaying hand. Megan’s staff had placed several of them around the store.
Ean came to Ramona’s defense. “Sometimes Ramona can surprise you with a generous act. She’s not as aloof as she sometimes seems.”
Ean spoke with affection. The bubble of feminine power in which Megan had been basking popped. She fought the urge to withdraw into herself.
How could she have entertained even for one second the smallest kernel of hope that Ean Fever could ever give her a second look—especially with Ramona around?
CHAPTER 8
“What movie do you want to see tonight?” Ean drained his glass of water Thursday morning. He’d been home for almost a month. He rose from his seat at the kitchen table to add the glass to the dishwasher.
Sharing breakfast with his mother was like old times. The difference was his father should have been at the table, too. He should be the one getting ready for work.
Ean struggled free from the weight of grief. After his mother left for work, he’d go for his morning jog. Would he see Megan in the park again? He couldn’t stop thinking of their near kiss three weeks ago—and how badly he wished she hadn’t run from him.
“I thought I’d make us dinner tonight.” His mother’s response interrupted his thoughts.
“You wouldn’t rather go out? My treat.” Ean returned to the table to collect his mother’s empty breakfast dishes.
“I’d assumed as much.” Doreen’s smile was unsteady. “But I’d rather stay in for dinner. Just the two of us. And a friend.”
“Who?” Ean stacked her dishes in the dishwasher, then closed its door before facing his mother.
Doreen hesitated. “Leo. I want the two of you to get reacquainted.”
Ean leaned against the kitchen counter for support. “You mean you want me to accept him as your boyfriend.”
Doreen inclined her head. “At my age, the term ‘boyfriend’ sounds odd, but you’re essentially right.”
It did sound odd to say his mother had a boyfriend, but Ean would embrace that word, if only to avoid the images associated with alternative terms. “I’m not going to stand in the way of your dating Coach George, but there’s no reason for me to spend time with him.”
“Yes, there is. I’m not going to divide my life into two halves just because you’re uncomfortable with my relationship with Leo.”
Ean recognized the determination in Doreen’s warm brown eyes. She’d been giving him that look all of his life—when he protested eating his vegetables, doing his homework or cleaning his room. Now she was giving him that steely regard because he didn’t want to spend time with her boyfriend. How their relationship had changed.
He crossed his arms and tried to stand his ground. “I’m not asking you to. If you want to have dinner with him tonight, I’ll make other plans.”
Doreen narrowed her eyes. “What if I want to have dinner with both of you?”
“We’re not a family, Mom.” Ean regretted the flash of pain that crossed his mother’s round face at his quietly spoken words.
“I’m not trying to replace your father. I just want . . . a friend.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “And I want you to accept that.”
Ean let his arms drop. “How can I do that?” His throat burned at the sadness in his mother’s eyes, but he wasn’t ready to accept her new relationship.
“Have dinner with us tonight.” Doreen spun on the heels of her white-pink-and-blue cross-training gym shoes. She strode from the kitchen.
His mother sounded impatient. What did she have to be upset about? He was the one stuck in some bizzaro version of his life. He’d thought his mother was a stay-at-home widow. Instead, she had a new man and a full-time job.
Even her appearance had changed. She’d cut her hair. Her wardrobe seemed filled with brighter colors and more modern styles. He hardly recognized her. Was Coach George the cause of all of these changes? Resentment knotted his stomach muscles.
Ean followed her. “I was worried about your being alone. With Dad gone, I thought you’d be at loose ends.”
Doreen looked as confused as Ean felt. “I wasn’t.” She collected her purple shoulder bag from the dining room’s corner table, then continued toward the coat closet in the front hallway.
“I came home to keep you company.”
She
