Love Potions (9 page)

“Lydia,” he mouthed, a look of intense longing and hunger on his face. But, also there was a sadness in his eyes, a pain that matched what she felt inside. Every part of her wanted to be with him, to say the words that would invite him in.

Gasping, Lydia sat up in bed. She was covered in sweat and her entire length hummed with life. Taking a deep breath, she threw the covers off her legs. She didn’t have to look at the clock to know she’d only slept a couple hours. It was like this every night for the last week.

Every time she finally managed to sleep Erik would come to her in her dreams and each night she’d wake up worse off than before. Every inch of her flesh itched and every nerve ending tingled. She wanted him—desperately, completely. And she wanted him now.

…

“Lyd, honey, why don’t you come for a walk with me? We can take the packages down to the post office together.” Charlotte leaned back on the floral-patterned couch in the living room and watched Lydia through veiled eyes. “I think the fresh air will do you some good.”

Sunlight streamed into the picture window behind the couch. Boxes piled along one wall. The orders needed to ship or they’d not make their guaranteed delivery date. Lydia had been packaging and fulfilling orders like mad. Only problem was, she wasn’t walking them down to the post office. She couldn’t. Erik might be out there. Waiting. Lurking.

“No, no, I’ll just call and see if someone can pick them up for me.” Lydia stood, pacing the living room.

Energy coursed through her, and she felt like a caged animal. She barely slept, hardly ate. If she tried either she felt sick. The only time she felt close to normal was when she worked. So that’s exactly what she did—cleaning the house, making lotions and soaps and teas. She’d even invented five new lines, designed their labels and uploaded them to her website, in addition to the full twenty she already had. They were selling like hot cakes. The strangest part is that she’d done all of this in one week. Despite the nervous energy, productivity had never been higher.

“I’m going to check the computer and see if any more orders came in,” Lydia said.

“You checked three minutes ago and there weren’t any. You’ve got them all done.” Charlotte stood. “You’re starting to scare me. What’s going on with you? Why won’t you tell me what happened on your date? Does this have something to do with Erik? Did he do something? You’ve been acting so—”

Lydia turned to her, cutting her off with a look. “No. Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“Did Erik do something? Did he…?” Charlotte gave a meaningful pause.

“No, I don’t think we had sex.”

“You don’t think? You mean you don’t remember?”

“I told you I don’t know.” Lydia tossed out her hands. She was so confused. Weird things had been happening to her—things that may or may not have anything to do with the handsome Scotsman. The dreams could be dreams, or maybe they were more. Were they a spell he put over her to make her want him? Well, no, just one look at him made her want him. Any woman would have to be dead not to be attracted to the walking mass of sexy that was Erik MacGregor. And if she accepted the spell scenario, that would mean she believed in real spells. After what had been happening to her, she kind of did. A thought danced alongside her brain, but she couldn’t quite grab it.

“Do you think he drugged your wine or something?” Charlotte frowned.

“No.” She shook her head. Erik was definitely not that type.

“Come on, let’s go for a walk. If it helps, Erik never comes down from the mansion. No one in town has seen him. Some even say they’ve seen other cars drive up there, but no one else come down either.”

“He comes down,” Lydia said. “And he calls. I don’t answer the phone.”

“If you don’t answer then how do you know that it’s Erik calling?” Charlotte crossed the living room, took Lydia by the arms and made her stand still to look at her. “With anyone else I’d know it was caller ID, but you still haven’t advanced fully into the modern age. You don’t even own a cell phone. If not for the business, I think you’d still use dial up to connect to the internet.”

“I just do. I can’t explain it. I just know. I feel it’s him.” Then frowning, she defended her corded phone, “And I like Gramma Annabelle’s old phone. It works just fine.”

“Whatever, keep your shrine,” Charlotte dismissed.

“And I don’t want to be one of those people that walk around with a phone attached to me all the time, avoiding life like—”

“Like the rest of modern society?” Charlotte laughed. “Yeah, you’re a big go-out-and-live kind of gal, aren’t you? You never leave the house. I think I’m going to buy you a smart phone for your birthday and get you addicted to social networking. I already put your profile on a dating site.”

Lydia inhaled sharply, horrified. “You did what!”

“I’m teasing.” Charlotte laughed, holding her stomach and flinching dramatically when Lydia swatted at her. “Though I should, you hermit. You say Erik’s been here? What did he say?”

“I don’t talk to him. I hide upstairs until he goes away. He leaves me flowers on the doorstep every day. I throw them out back.” Lydia shivered. She felt cold again. Was it even possible to have cold flashes?

“Why won’t you see him?” Charlotte slowly urged her to walk toward the kitchen. “You’re starting to worry me a little, Lyd. I’ll put on another pot of coffee, and you can tell me what really is going on.”

“You really want to know?”

Charlotte nodded and gave the “of course I want to know” look.

“Okay, stand back.” Lydia took a deep breath.

Charlotte stepped back, leaning against the kitchen counter. She watched her expectantly.

Lydia bit her lip. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

“Lydia? You home?”

Lydia jumped, gasping as she turned to the side screen door. Charlotte must have left it open. Joe stood on the other side. Covering her heart, she forced a smile. “Yeah, come in.”

“Hey, didn’t mean to startle you,” Joe said, smiling kindly. “We were at the post office and Mr. Baker mentioned you hadn’t been down all week. Thought we’d check in on you and make sure everything’s all right.”

“We?” Lydia leaned over.

Joe’s new best friend, Brad, had come with him. She hid her grimace and tried not to physically recoil to see the man at her house. She couldn’t explain why the man always made her uncomfortable—he just did. He didn’t act menacing, so much as socially awkward. After being made fun of for her “witch on the hill” upbringing, Lydia was too polite to point out another person’s peculiarities. What could she say? Don’t come in because your facial expressions make me uneasy?

Brad stood outside the door expectantly. Against her better judgment, she motioned him inside. “Do come in.”

The squat Brad nodded. “We also need your help.”

“Oh?” Lydia forced the smile to stay intact. She ignored her instinct to kick the man out.

“My wife’s birthday,” Brad said. “I need a gift for her and thought you might have something. She likes vanilla. At least I think that’s what she’s always putting on. Or I thought that stuff you wear. I think she’d like that.”

When Lydia didn’t answer, Charlotte said, “I think we can find something for you.”

Charlotte left her alone in the kitchen with the two men.

“You been sick?” Joe asked. The laugh lines around his mouth shifted and he looked concerned.

“Yeah,” she lied. Well, maybe it wasn’t a lie. Could what was happening to her be considered sickness? “I haven’t been feeling well. I think it was the stomach flu. I’m getting better though.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” Brad’s eyes strayed downward to her chest only to sweep back up. “Though, I’m glad that you’re better.”

Lydia nodded. She liked Joe. Brad just made her feel awkward, like she was a piece of meat. Suddenly, the vision of him pleasuring himself to a stalker-like photo popped into her head. It was vividly real, but she shook it off. Where the hell did that come from?

Gross.

Beyond gross.

“Got it!” Charlotte called. She set a couple gift bags on the table. “This is vanilla rose, vanilla lavender and my favorite vanilla ginger. Plus, with purchase we’ll throw in a small bottle of what Lydia wears.”

Brad, still staring at Lydia, pulled out his wallet. “How much for that last one?”

“Thirty-six,” Lydia answered.

Brad blinked in surprise. “Must be some good lotion.”

“It’s a whole gift bag,” Charlotte explained.

Brad turned to look at it for the first time. “Oh, yeah. That’s perfect, wrapped and everything.” He handed the exact change to Lydia, letting his finger brush up along hers.

“So, do you need help with anything?” Joe asked.

“No, thank—”

“Actually,” Charlotte interrupted, instantly smiling in a very un-Charlotte like way. It was a look she used when she wanted something. “We do have a giant load of packages to take down. I saw you drove your truck. Would you mind giving me a lift down the hill? Neither one of us owns a car. It would take several trips to get them all.”

“No, of course not. It’s on the way,” Joe said.

“You’re a lifesaver!” Charlotte gushed. She turned, secretly winking at Lydia as she led the men to where the boxes were stacked.

Lydia followed them, and they started carting boxes out to the truck. Brad worked the slowest, but with all four of them they managed to get it loaded fairly quickly. She handed Charlotte the company credit card to pay for the postage.

“Aren’t you coming?” Brad asked, glancing over her.

“No,” Charlotte said for her, “I don’t want her out and about yet.” To Lydia, she said, “Forget the coffee. Try the chamomile tea. Get some sleep. I’ll be back later.”

Lydia nodded, as Charlotte climbed into the truck. She had the urge to stop her, but there was no logical reason for it. She watched as the vehicle pulled out of the drive. Feeling a familiar vibration along her spine, she tensed. It felt like Erik. He must have been coming with flowers. Like a wimp, she turned and made ready to run for the kitchen door. He felt close.

“Hello, neighbor!” It wasn’t Erik. The accent belonged to a female and sounded more British than Scottish.

Lydia turned. It was too late to run to the door anyway—well, too late not to look rude or insane doing it. A slender woman wearing all black lifted her hand in greeting as she came down a narrowly worn path in the trees. She grinned, an infectiously impish look.

“My brothers tell me this is the place for girly stuff. I’m Malina MacGregor. My family bought the place up the hill, but you know that already.”

“Hi, Lydia Barratt.”

“So I’ve been told.” Malina grinned.

“Oh?” Lydia wondered at the pleasure that washed over her at the simple statement.

“Aye. Erik’s smitten with you. We’ve been teasing him mercilessly about it.” Malina’s smile widened, as if she just loved revealing that piece of information about her brother. Lydia instantly liked the woman. There was something mischievous and carefree about her in a spunky, don’t mess with me way. “So, got some time to sell me some stuff? I’ve got a ma, two aunts, my cousin Maura, a guestroom and myself to stock bathrooms for. Not to mention, if you carry stuff for men—a da, three uncles, five brothers, a pile of cousins and another guest room or two. Plus I have to stock the supply closet for when they run out. I swear invite them to a round of shinty and the men drop everything to run for the door with their sticks, but if one of them runs out of shampoo they’re too busy to be bothered to go to the store. They resort to stealing each other’s and when that runs out, I catch them in my shower smelling like a perfumed rose. Trust me when I tell you, you do not want a household of men using your shower.”

“All of you are going to live up there?” Lydia asked in surprise. Erik mentioned he had family coming, but she never imagined so many.

“Aye. Why not? There’s space enough for it. Our clan likes to stick together. Some of us come and go as we please, but we always end up back in the family home more often than not.”

“Why don’t you come in? I’ll see if I have anything you might like.” Lydia motioned to the door. “It must be nice coming from a large family who’s so close.”

“Oh, aye and then again no. Try having five brothers and a Da who thinks it’s their duty to protect you—from everything.” Malina’s smile fell, and she rolled her eyes. “Men. You’d think they’d let me make my own decisions. On the plus side, they’re always there when I need them to be. I’ll tell you, the MacGregors fiercely guard what is theirs, especially their women.”

Lydia wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything. The chatty Malina didn’t seem to mind her silence, as they walked into the living room.

“Tea?” Lydia asked.

“No, I’m good.”

“So, what fragrances did you have in mind?” Lydia asked. “Or I can just cart everything out and let you pick and choose.”

“Let’s do that,” Malina said. “It’ll give us a chance to talk.”

“About?” She blinked in surprise, suddenly a little nervous by Malina’s visit. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied about Erik, she might have suspected there was more to this than a shopping spree.

“About why you are hiding from my brother.” The woman nodded slowly in understanding. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to plead his case. It suits me just fine if you torture him a little. Pardon me for saying so, but he deserves it. ”

Lydia laughed. How could she not? There was something honest and simple to the way Malina talked. She instantly sensed that whatever the woman said, the woman meant. “I think you may have the wrong idea. We’ve only gone out on one date and quite honestly it wasn’t a very memorable one. No offense. I’m sure he’s a nice guy.”

“Hm.” The woman nodded. “I have never heard anyone refer to any of my brothers as a nice guy. Usually girls try to be my friend to get closer to them. I’m going to assume you really meant he’s a pain in the arse but you like him anyway against your better judgment.”

“No, I…”

“You really can’t remember how the date ended, can you?”

Weak, Lydia sat down on the chair, forgetting all about going to get the lotions. “How…? How did you know that?”

“Because I know what he did to you. I know that strange things have probably been happening to you. Don’t worry, Erik and Euann only cast a little spell. In his own way, Erik was trying to protect what he thought was his. Only, I suspect you have it worse in some ways. I know what he is. You do not.”