Read Online Where You Least Expect It by Tori Carrington - Free Book Online

normal scene. Mavis probably would have been in the brightly lit, clean kitchen kneading dough for homemade bread, or reading a book in the living room, or even sitting out on the porch mapping out the stars.
    Instead, what he encountered would no doubt confirm every strange thing the townsfolk had ever said about the Moons—and then some.
    Mavis circled Aidan. “Young, but you’ll do.”
    “Gram!” Penelope stepped between the two. “Aidan is my guest. Not yours.”
    The old woman stared at her.
    Penelope found herself sputtering. “Well…actually, he’s not even a guest. He just…walked me home.”
    “Of course. Because both you and I know that you don’t have any friends.”
    “And when was the last time you had someone over?” Penelope said without blinking.
    She noticed her grandmother flinch. But she couldn’t deal with that now. As far as she was concerned, Mavis deserved anything she could fling her way.
    She turned quickly to Aidan. But what could she possibly say?
    “Can I make you some tea, Aidan?” Mavis asked.
    Penelope glanced over her shoulder to find her grandmother stirring something in what looked suspiciously like a cauldron atop a gas camping stove.
    She nearly fainted dead out.
     
    The expression of horror that Penelope wore touched Aidan in a way that few things ever had. He wanted to help ease her mind, reassure her that while her grandmother’s actions were indeed strange, he’d come across people that unsettled him far more than the thin old woman whose dark eyes sparkled with a humor he doubted her granddaughter saw.
    Aidan cleared his throat. “So long as the tea doesn’t have a pinch of eye of newt in it, I’m game.”
    Penelope stared at him as if he’d gone as insane as her grandmother.
    “Actually, it’s chamomile. Grown in our own garden.”
    “Then, I’d love some.”
    Mavis made a strange sound then left the room, leaving the two of them alone.
    Aidan’s gaze flicked over Penelope’s pale face in the warm candlelight. Someone else might have shouted or railed or been rude to the old woman who had caught them both off guard. Or grabbed him by the arm and taken him back outside, slamming the door after them—he glanced in that direction, just now realizing there was no door.
    But not Penelope.
    He took in the proud way she held her shoulders, as if bracing herself for the worst. But not making any apologies or explanations.
    “You don’t have to stay, you know,” she said quietly.
    He squinted at her unblinking comment. “I know,” he replied, a shudder rushing through him.
    Her soft voice spoke to him on so many levels. No, he didn’t have to stay. Not here in this house. Not at the bed-and-breakfast. Not in Old Orchard, period.
    But, damn it, he wanted to.
    He didn’t want to go back to Mrs. O’Malley, collect his suitcase and go to meet the last Greyhound out of town. And a small voice told him he didn’t have to.
    The revelation was freeing and exciting and frightening all at once.
    He cracked a smile. “I like your grandmother.”
    Penelope seemed doubtful at first. Then she smiled shyly. “She’s not usually this bizarre. She’s going through one of her episodes.”
    She gestured vaguely with her hand. “What I meant to say is that every now and again she goes through these odd stretches.” She looked down so far, her chin made contact with her chest. “You should have been here two years ago when she set up shop in the front yard advertising for personalized curses and spells.”
    Aidan reached out a finger and lightly ran it over her cheek, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. “I don’t know. I think last year’s marijuana-growing incident tops that one.”
    “You weren’t in Old Orchard for that, were you?”
    “No. But the story was still big news.”
    She rolled her eyes. “God. Everyone knew about that?”
    “Pretty hard to keep news like that quiet in such a small town.”
    “I know, but…” She sighed.
    She didn’t