The Girl in the Mist (Misted Pines 1)

Jesse looked to his dad.

“I can’t bury her in with all that.”

“We’ll take her to the pier,” Bohannan said quietly. “We’ll give her to the fishes.”

“I don’t wanna let her go.”

Celeste made a moaning noise.

Jace was done and went to his brother, crowding him but not touching him.

Bohannan reached to his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, flipped it open and tugged something out I couldn’t see.

He showed it to Jesse.

“Movie stub. Her name was Laura. She was fifteen. I swiped it from her bedroom. I’ve carried it in my wallet every day for fourteen years.”

Oh my God.

Jesse stared at his father.

“Dad,” he said.

No one moved, except Bohannan, who was swiftly tucking the movie stub back into his wallet.

He’d just returned it to his pocket when Jess spoke again.

“Dad.”

That cracked in the middle.

That was when Bohannan caught Jesse on both sides of his neck and pulled him almost violently into his body.

Jesse’s frame heaved.

Bohannan wrapped his arms around him, and Jason moved to stand behind him. He then rested his forehead on Jesse’s back.

Jesse made an animalistic noise that punched right through me.

Okay, there was something that night that was official.

I’d fallen in love with this family.

“Let’s go,” I whispered to Celeste, starting to tug her around toward the house, thinking that Jess might not want her or me to see his emotion.

“No,” she replied, holding fast to my hand and not moving.

It might be good she was there, but I wasn’t sure I should be there.

The instant I had that thought, Bohannan turned his head and pinned me with his gaze.

Well, that answered that, though I didn’t know if it was a You’re one of us now or a You got us into this mess, you’re seeing it through.

I also didn’t know which one of those was scarier, considering I hadn’t even had an official kiss from the patriarch of this crew.

“Weak,” Jesse grunted.

“Strong,” Bohannan contradicted.

“I’m never gonna let her go.”

“She’s counting on that.”

Jesse’s head came up.

Jason stepped away, but not too far.

“What?” Jess asked his dad.

“You know,” Bohannan answered.

Bohannan’s back was to me, but I could see father and son did not lose eye contact for several, very long beats.

Jesse nodded and moved out of his father’s embrace.

Bohannan turned to Celeste and me.

Jace came to his brother’s side.

Jesse looked at me.

“Who needs therapy when they can go out and buy a pumpkin?”

Oh no!

Disaster!

“No, I didn’t mean—”

“Chill, Delly,” Jesse said softly. “I’ll tell her about this my next go. She needs to incorporate this shit into her regime.”

“Her” must be his therapist.

My smile was tentative.

So was his.

“Are the seeds burning?” Jace asked, and not for the first time I wondered if he was a medical miracle, and his brain could be found in his stomach.

“We didn’t put them in yet,” Celeste told him.

That made me look at Bohannan.

Jesse came and claimed his sister, and by that, I mean claimed. Her scream was fake and shrill when, even though he had his bundle of pumpkin bits tucked under one arm like a football, he tossed her over his other shoulder.

Because, obviously, after crying in his dad’s arms, he had to do something manly.

I’d give him that play.

Celeste gave it too.

They headed up to the house, sister hanging down brother’s back.

Bohannan came and claimed me with an arm around my shoulders and aimed us to the house.

“So, we gonna have a conversation as a family, you know, like pumpkin-carving extreme therapy, where you two announce you’re an item and what that means to all us kids?” Jason ribbed as he sauntered at our sides. “You know, Dad, like, how you still love us and we’re very important, but you might not be around as much because you’re getting it on with a super famous TV star.”

I thought for certain Bohannan would shut this down with a tonally significant grunt.

He didn’t.

He said, “Something like that.”

Jason barked out a laugh.

I stared at Bohannan’s profile and spied suspicious movement around his beard.

But I definitely didn’t miss his arm tightening around my shoulders.

“Though, I don’t think the family meeting is necessary,” Bohannan finished.

I moved my stare to Jace.

He was watching me.

And his expression was so far from teasing, my breath caught.

“Nope,” he agreed. “Don’t suppose we do.”

Twenty-Three

Bigfoot

I sat at my desk, staring at the empty Word document on my computer, not thinking about the fact my deadline had been put in limbo while Bob Welsh put me in limbo, but now that Bob Welsh was in his own limbo, my deadline would contractually be taken out of its.

I also wasn’t thinking about how fabulous my office now was.

The desk was perfect with the lamps I’d bought, the rug I’d bought, and the Eames leather lounge chair tucked into the corner with its ottoman and gold, swooped-arm, globe-shaded standing lamp hanging over it.

And the paint color I’d chosen to cover the walls above the wood wainscotting was inspired.