Curse Me Under the Mistletoe by Kennedy Layne

Author:Kennedy Layne [Layne, Kennedy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cozy, Paranormal, Fiction, Mystery
ISBN: 9781943420896
Publisher: Kennedy Layne Publishing
Published: 2019-11-12T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“Let’s go inside the diner and get you warmed up,” Knox said, stepping forward and using his thumb to wipe away the snow that was still attached to my eyelashes. “I leave you alone for an hour and you’re getting into snowball fights with the local kids.”

Please tell Mr. Emeric that he’s stealing my line. It’s rude to borrow without permission.

“What can I say?” I replied wryly, tucking the business card in my pocket. The snow that had tucked in behind my scarf was starting to melt against my neck. “I thought I’d start their training young.”

You’re quick on your feet after that hit, dear hexed one. It’s good to know that you haven’t lost your touch.

“That was quite the hit,” Piper interjected, coming up behind Knox. Her blue eyes were filled with laughter. Not even a smidge of concern was shown that the entire left side of my face was still covered with snow. “I tried to call out to you, but you couldn’t hear me over the caroling. Knox, aren’t you supposed to be over at the Boonevilles?”

Wolves. They get so easily distracted, don’t they?

“About that,” Knox said with caution, taking a look around before gesturing toward the diner. “Let’s go and have an early lunch. Even though there are a lot of out-of-towners, I’d rather not draw attention to ourselves by standing around talking about an unsolved murder.”

I wasn’t going to argue about walking into a warm place for more than five minutes. Uncontrollable shivers were beginning to set in as the snow had pretty much melted into very cold water against my skin. Piper led the way, a small bag from the boutique swinging in her hand.

Maybe my sweet Piper has moved on from the knitting craze. You know, it’s my experience that those fads don’t last for long.

“Keep telling yourself that,” I muttered, having no doubt that we’d be wearing matching hats come Christmas morning. “I think you’re becoming more optimistic in your old age, Pearl.”

“I definitely don’t want to know what the two of you are talking about, do I?” Knox inquired, falling into step beside me as we crossed the street.

“Not if you want to end up with a knitted hat that includes dog ears,” I replied with a smile, grateful that Pearl and I weren’t the only ones who were going to be on the receiving end of Piper’s gift exchange. “Would you please grab me a coffee? I’m going to use the restroom to try and dry out.”

We’d finally reached the diner, and the warmth of the heat blowing down from above near the door was a welcome respite. I stood there a moment longer while Piper picked us out a table. The delicious remnant scent of bacon still hung in the air, but even I didn’t need Knox’s sense of smell to breathe in the mouthwatering coffee aroma.

One would have thought you had enough caffeine running through your veins by now, but your lack of reaction when hit in the face with a snowball says otherwise.

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