Charmed Spirits (3 page)

Matt
nodded. “Yeah, I got here early to fix one of the balusters on the railing for
the staircase. Why are you here so early? I don’t even think Jackson is here
yet.”

Justin
shrugged as he opened the door. “I got off early and didn’t want to go home
only to have to come back here. I figured I’d start on dinner, drink a beer,
and watch the game while I waited for everyone to show up.”

Matt
laughed and searched through the toolbox that the ever-prepared Jackson had
left near the end of the stairs for him.

“What
are we having?” he asked as he set to work.

“Chili
and cornbread. You want a beer?”

“Sounds
good. I’ll finish this up. It won’t take long, and I’ll help you out if you
want. Though I do like how Jackson invites us to dinner and we always end up
cooking.”

Justin
shook his head. “Nah, I got it. You know Momma taught us all how to cook. And
as for Jackson, he works too much to actually cook. He just likes offering his
place because it’s bigger.”

“Yeah,
because she didn’t think we’d get married, and she didn’t want us to starve.”
The familiar ache of her loss settled deep in his stomach, though as time had
moved on, it didn’t burn as deep.

“Well,
she wasn’t too far off on that, considering we’re all still single.”

“True.”
Jordan’s face popped in his mind, and he held back a grimace. He really needed
to stop thinking about her like that. She might be back now, but she’d leave
soon, and he’d be alone. Again. Maybe he should just stick with Stacey.

He
held back a shudder. Okay, maybe not.

The
front door opened, and another brother, Tyler, walked in, a laid-back smile on
his face, a six-pack in one hand and his sheriff’s hat in the other. He closed
the door behind him and ran a hand over his newly shorn hair.

“I’m
surprised you’re here this early,” Matt commented. “I’d thought you’d have a
date.”

Tyler
grinned full out, his teeth gleaming in the sunlight shining through the
windows. “Not tonight, buddy. Like I’d miss dinner with my beloved brothers.”

Matt
raised a brow. “Got stood up, did you?”

Tyler
set the six-pack and hat down on the table in the foyer and shook his head.
“It’s not my fault my dates talked to each other this morning.”

“Dates?”
For a ladies’ man, Tyler was an idiot sometimes.

His
brother shrugged, unrepentant. “I double booked. Sue me.”

“You’re
the law in this town, bro. At some point, you may just have to arrest
yourself.”

“It
wasn’t as if I was planning on marrying either of them.”

Matt
set his tools down and took the offered beer from Tyler. “But you don’t have to
be an ass about it.”

Tyler
glared. “I’m not an ass. I’m up-front. I’m not looking for a wife. I don’t go
out and sleep with every date I have. I’m safe and honest. Just because I
messed up my schedule doesn’t make me an ass.”

Matt
smiled, at ease with their old argument. “I give up. You’re perfection and I
shall bow at your feet.”

Tyler
scoffed. “It’s about time you learned your place. Or maybe go out and find
yourself a date.” He grinned, and Matt fisted his hands.

He
didn’t like where this was going.

“I
date.” Sometimes. Okay, it’d been a few months. Wait, maybe nine? Jesus, he
needed to go out. And running from Stacey and her perky…smile…didn’t count. Again,
Jordan’s face came to mind, and he bit back a groan. She’d been in town for
only a few hours, and she was already taking over his mind and life. Typical
Jordan.

But
that was why he’d loved her.

Emphasis
on the past tense. Because he didn’t love her now. No way.

“You
okay in there?” Tyler asked. “Let me guess. This is about a certain brunette high-school
sweetheart of yours that came back to town today?”

Matt
closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see the knowing gaze. No matter what he
did, he couldn’t avoid her. And, frankly, it was getting harder to tell himself
he even wanted to. “I take it you saw the announcement on Facebook?”

Tyler’s
eyes gleamed. “Oh, I saw the announcement, and the poll on whether you and Ms.
Jordan were getting back together.”

“Damn,
why is it that Holiday loves polls so freaking much?”

“Yep.
It’s about fifty-fifty right now. But that’s because not enough people were
there to see the chemistry and don’t want to rely on second- and third-hand
accounts. So there is another poll on whether or not they should concoct an
event to put the two of you together. How does it feel to be a Holiday
celebrity?”

Matt
fought the urge to punch the smug look off his too-happy brother’s face. “I’m a
Cooper; I’m already a Holiday celebrity.”

“True.
But when the betting gets going, I want to win. So you have any insider’s scoop
for me?”

Matt
threw a small piece of wood at him, and Tyler ducked smoothly. “No, we’re not
getting back together.”
Damn
. “She’s just back to clean out her
grandma’s place then she’s leaving.” Again.

Tyler
nodded, a too-understanding glint in his eyes. “Oh, and just so you know, I saw
her today. She’s still pretty as ever.”

“Watch
yourself, Tyler,” Matt growled.

“I
won’t poach. But I will warn you that I had to warn off Prescott already.”

Matt
went on alert. That fucker. He’d always hated the guy. It was a wonder how he’d
become mayor. No, scratch that. No one had wanted the job badly enough to go against
the St. James money. “What did he do?”

“Just
acted like the ass he was and was a little too close to full-out harassment in
my opinion, so I made sure I was around in case it escalated. I couldn’t tell
if Jordan was relieved or not. You know how she likes to deal with her own
problems. But I didn’t want her to feel like she was alone as soon as she came
back.”

“Thanks,
Tyler.” Though he wished he’d been there to help. But he didn’t think Jordan
would have welcomed his help.

“No
problem, man. You know Jordan was like family back in the day. I hated to see
her leave too.”

Matt
nodded and gave a small smile. “I know.”

The
front door opened again, and this time, Brayden walked through the door, beer
in his hands and grease on his jeans. Fuck, had he missed the BYOB memo? “Shit,
Bray, didn’t you shower before you came over?” Tyler laughed.

“Shut
the fuck up.” Brayden scowled, and Matt bit back a laugh. And people said that
Bray was the nicest of the Coopers. “I washed up, somewhat. I can’t get this
stuff off me most days. Deal with it.” His black hair curled a bit at the ends
and was still wet, proving he’d at least cleaned something.

“Is
that Bray?” Justin called from the kitchen.

“Something
smells good,” Bray yelled back. “Chili?”

“Yep,
and cornbread,” Matt answered as his stomach rumbled. He took another swig of
his beer, the bitter brew doing nothing to cool his thoughts of a certain
brunette.

Fuck.
He needed to stop thinking about her. Anytime now.

Justin
walked out, drinking a beer. “Dinner won’t be ready for a few, but the game’s
about on.”

“Sounds
good. The Broncos are going to kick some ass tonight,” Tyler said as he walked
toward the living room.

The
others followed him, bashing the other team and praising their Denver team. The
Broncos had been their father’s favorite, and the Coopers were loyal to a
fault. They sat, drank beer, and watched the kick-off as the smell of chili
filled the room.

The
front door opened again, and his last brother, Jackson, walked in.

“What
the hell?” Jackson scowled. “Just take over my fucking house, why don’t you?”

“Hey,
at least I fixed the banister for you,” Matt retorted. “And Justin cooked for
you because that’s how we always do things. Stop complaining.”

Jackson
grunted, went into the kitchen, and came back out with a beer in his hand. He
sank into the couch and sighed. It was a freaking Sunday evening and his
brother had worked a long hard day because he kept his doors open on weekends
to accommodate others in town. He’d taken off his suit jacket and shoes and loosened
his tie, but he still looked like a professional. Even if the guy was a
dentist. And an ass. But the man was their brother so they couldn’t take him
out back and shoot him with Tyler’s gun. Yet.

Justin’s
phone beeped, and he ran out of the room, calling, “Chili’s been ready,” on his
way. They grabbed their bowls and ate while watching the game. During the
commercials, his brothers teased him about Jordan. Damn. It didn’t look like
they’d give up any time soon.

Matt
checked his watch and cursed. “Okay, I’m out. Let me know how the game ends.”
The sun was about to set, and he had places to be. Well, one place.

“God,
you’re a pussy sometimes,” Justin teased. “Afraid of the dark, are you?”

“Something
like that,” Matt said evasively and ran out the door.

He
drove his Chevy to his place then hopped out and ran to the old Marlow place,
the sun’s setting rays beating down on him like a hangman’s noose. He barely
made it through the door and into the living room when the last tip of the sun
went below the horizon. Panting, he looked down at his hands and bit back a
sob.

His
hands faded to an eerily translucence, his arms, chest, legs, and the rest of
him following soon after.

No,
he wasn’t afraid of the dark or even ghosts.

Because
on every full moon…he was one. And it was all Jordan’s fault.

Chapter 3

Jordan
leaned against the wall, her brain not fully functioning in the early morning
heat. It was freaking September in Montana. Why was it so hot? Stupid global
warming. She desperately needed a cup of coffee. Damn, she missed the corner
shops where she could just walk for a cup of organic brew. Now, she didn’t even
have a coffee maker, and she didn’t want to leave the house to go to the diner
to get it because, once she left, she was afraid she’d never come back again.

And
this time, she wasn’t just talking about the town. Her grandmother’s house was
scary as hell. When she’d first walked in, she’d almost about-faced and run in
the opposite direction. Dust and dirt covered everything that wasn’t covered in
plastic. Even the plastic looked worn. Cobwebs filled the corners, broken
floorboards stood in her way, the doors were off the hinges, and the counters
looked like mold had found a new place to live.

Her
grandmother had been clean, even as she’d gotten sick. The vandals who had come
to take over the creepy house on the corner were not. Jordan would kick every
one of their bratty little asses. She’d never thought the house creepy, it was
just the fact that her family was a family of witches, so of course the locals
thought they were creepy and evil. So freaking close-minded.

They’d
ruined her home.

Well,
the only home she’d ever known.

“Hey,
stranger,” a voice called out, and she screamed, her heart racing. “Hey,
Jordan! I’m sorry! It’s only me.”

Jordan
turned to see Matt, his face flushed and a small smile on his face.

“Dammit!
Stop sneaking around! It’s spooky as all hell.”

“I’m
sorry, Jor.”

She ignored
the way his nickname for her rolled off his tongue. He shrugged and held out
his hands. That’s when Jordan noticed the steaming cup of coffee in each hand.
Yep, this man was a god. A sexy god.
No. Not thinking that
.

“I
figured you might not have a maker, and I remembered how much you love your
coffee in the morning.”

Damn
sensitive, caring, responsible man.

“Thanks,”
she grumbled, and took a deep gulp, the coffee almost scalding her tongue. At
least that would keep her from saying anything stupid like, ‘I still love you.’
He leaned against the doorway, his blue eyes just as intense as ever, his dark
locks begging for her fingers. She tightened the grip on her coffee cup. No,
she wouldn’t touch. Or even think about touching because that led to things she
couldn’t run away from.

“So,
Matt, why are you here?”
Other than to annoy me.

“I figured
you could use some help. I’m a carpenter after all.” He smiled, and it brought
a little kick to her chest.

And
a carpenter? He could always work with his hands. No. She couldn’t think like
that, either.

He
looked around the house from where he stood and shuddered. “Though, maybe I
should have brought a bulldozer.”

She
fought back a laugh. He was right, but she wouldn’t give him the benefit of the
doubt. Not when she wanted him out of the house so she didn’t have to think
about memories better left forgotten.

“I
thought you worked at the hardware store.” At least that was what a few of the
old biddies had told her when she’d picked up her dinner from the diner the
night before.