An Everlasting Christmas (The Happily Everlasting Series Book 7) Page 2
In fact, a year ago, she’d run over an evil witch with her tow truck, turning him into a pile of bubbling blue goop. That had taken a few months to get cleaned out of the grill of her truck, but it had been worth it. She’d do it again in a heartbeat, liking how empowering it had felt to take a stand against evil.
Around the same time as the witch incident, Jolene had met Kelsey Majoy. She was a sweet, funny young woman who was mated to one of the local deputies—Jake. Between Kelsey and Penelope, Wil’s granddaughter, Jolene found herself going out on the town more and more. She liked to pretend she didn’t like it that much, but she secretly loved it all.
Wil had seemed a bit wilder too since his granddaughter had come back to town just over a year ago. Penelope was good for him. He smiled and laughed again—both things she’d missed seeing Wil do. His laugh was deep, rich, and had always giving her a case of the butterflies.
A lot about the man did.
There had been a time in her life when she’d thought she and Wil would make a future together. That they’d end up married with a family. She’d been young and naïve—fully believing her family would stand behind her choice in a man. But Wil had a longstanding history with the Bails family and most of it wasn’t pretty.
He’d hunted and killed a number of them over the years—doing his duty, what he’d been born to do. One of her ancestors—who happened to be able to shift into a kraken, like her nephew Sigmund—had taken to killing innocents for sport. Something that simply was not allowed.
Wil had done what was demanded of him and what Jolene’s grandfather had asked of him. He’d tracked Jolene’s family member and he’d given the man a choice. He’d offered him an out if the were-kraken would give up his ties to evil and his wicked ways. Wil’s offer had been rejected, leaving Wil to do what had to be done.
He’d eliminated the threat.
That wasn’t the only Bails family member killed by Wil and his line of supernatural hunters. Wil wasn’t like his father, uncles, or any of his ancestors. He didn’t view all supernaturals as evil. In fact, he’d befriended a good number of them, including Jolene.
None of that had mattered to either of their families back then. To her family, he was a murderer. To his family, she was the enemy. Her father had done the unthinkable and had allowed her to date Wil for a brief period, understanding the romance was blossoming. But his opinion of Wil, and how dangerous he and his family were, was confirmed the night Wil’s uncle had paid Jolene a surprise visit.
Pain lanced through her ankle at the memory. She took a deep breath, refusing to get lost in the past—in the ignorance that had surrounded them. Maybe, had they all understood the feelings she and Wil had for one another back then, they’d have let them be together and things would be very different now.
As it stood, she and Wil were nothing more than friends. The friendship had begun to blossom once again just over a year ago with the arrival of his granddaughter. Though in that year, he’d never paid her an unexpected visit.
She hoped everything was okay.
She covered the distance to the back porch, her boots crunching in the snow. Barry was already on the porch, rubbing against Wil’s leg. The cat didn’t care in the least that Wil was a hunter. He loved the man. Of course, that had something to do with Wil rescuing Barry when he was just a kitten and caught in a storm drain. Barry wouldn’t have survived had Wil not heard his tiny cries and gone in after him. Wil had shown up on Jolene’s doorstep, nearly thirteen years ago, with a tiny black fur ball, wrapped in a blanket. He’d promptly handed the kitten to Jolene, informed her he’d named it Barry, after the singer Barry White, and then walked away.
Her previous cat, Pudding, had passed a few months prior to that and Jolene had missed him horribly. Barry had come into her life at the perfect moment, and they’d been close ever since.
Chapter Two
Wil Messing kept his head back against the rocking chair, hearing every move Jolene made on her approach to the house. He could also hear that her steps were uneven. That meant her ankle was acting up again, not that the stubborn woman would admit as much to him. Everything in him wanted to leap up, whisk her off her feet, and carry her into the house to take care of her.
He always felt that way around her.
Her scent, a light floral one with undertones of motor oil (which he found oddly endearing), wafted over him. His chest tightened, as it always did when she was near. He’d learned to control the urge he had to draw her into his arms and kiss her passionately long ago.
There had been a time when he hadn’t bothered to govern what felt right—what felt natural. The two of them had come together in reckless abandon and all had seemed perfect in the world.
Seemed like another lifetime.
Circumstances had driven them apart and their relationship had only recently found its way to something more. He couldn’t put a label on it, but he sure wanted to. Which was far better than what he’d had for nearly a hundred years with her—fleeting glances from afar and her going out of her way to avoid him.
He couldn’t blame her.
He’d moved on with his life, marrying another and having a son. He wouldn’t dare take away what he’d had with his wife, but she hadn’t been his true mate. When he’d married her, he hadn’t even known hunters could have mates. Wil, like so many of his kind, assumed mates were reserved for supernaturals only. Guess fate considered hunters supernaturals as well.
Wil understood the pull he had to Jolene, even though it took him nearly a hundred years to make sense of it.
She was his mate. The woman created just for him, and him for her. Problem was, he’d gone and muddled things up, and he wasn’t sure how to find his way back to right.
If there even was a way to get back to it.
He’d wanted a life with her. Wanted a family. That wasn’t what happened, and he blamed himself for that.
He’d not fought hard enough for her back when they’d first met and been a couple. He’d let outside influences dictate his life choices.
Now, he was too old to care what anyone thought of him and he didn’t want to waste another second of their lives apart. But the damage he’d done to what they’d once had was heavy, and Jolene was a strong woman who didn’t tend to forgive easily.
He’d broken her heart when he’d walked away from her and what they had. Both of them had gone their separate ways, starting new lives without the other in it—keeping to themselves, avoiding contact with one another. Which was darn hard to do living in the same small town.
The act of pushing her out of his life had nearly killed him back then, but he’d done it, for her safety. She’d been hurt because of what they’d shared—their love for one another—and he hadn’t been able to bear the idea that she’d be harmed again. Being with him had been too heavy a price for her, and he’d been the one to end things in order to keep her safe.
His love for her had been that great.
It still was. And if the crystal balls from the collection of supernatural artifacts he guarded were right, his chance at finding happiness with Jolene was in jeopardy. She was about to be off the market—and there was no way Wil was going to let that happen without a fight.
He probably needed to start by actually apologizing for royally screwing things up years ago. “Sorry” had been on the tip of his tongue for years, but he couldn’t seem to get the word to pry loose from his lips.
Instead, he’d taken the olive branch of friendship she’d finally offered (that coincided with Wil’s granddaughter coming to town). He wanted far more than mere friendship from Jolene, but he’d take what he could get.
His granddaughter and Jolene had struck up a close friendship that worked well for the two of them. Jolene was protective of Penelope, and his granddaughter was just as shielding of Jolene. His granddaughter had it in her head that Wil and Jolene would be perfect together, and she wasn’t shy about saying as much to him.
He agreed but it wasn’t that simple.
While they were mates, he had yet to tell Jolene. Heck, he’d only just admitted it to himself in the last year. When that bombshell had occurred to him, in the middle of the night, while dead asleep, he’d shot out of bed and frantically paced the room. The pent-up nervous energy he’d had needed channeled somewhere, so he channeled it into fixing up his old hunting cabin out on the edge of town.
It had never been in anything close to great shape before and had been the site of a rather epic battle between good and evil, leaving it at the mercy of a strong wind. But, with a good deal of time and effort, he had done it, and it was something to be proud of. Gone was the dilapidated death trap. In its place stood a genuine log cabin that he’d built himself in his spare time.
It was that or pace endlessly until he wore holes in his floors.
He’d have found another project to hide behind, too cowardly to approach the woman he loved and tell her the truth, had it not been for the crystal balls. They’d lit up like a Christmas tree when he’d been doing inventory in the basement of his shop (where all the paranormal items were stored). Kelsey and Penelope, who both worked at the shop, had thankfully been home, seeing as how they’d only recently had babies. The two young women already clung to the romantic notion that Wil and Jolene were star-crossed lovers. Having an entire shelf full of magical items confirm it would have made them impossible to live with.
He nudged the bag near his foot when he sensed the object within vibrating. If it kept acting up, he’d take a hammer to it and teach it a lesson it wouldn’t likely forget.
Knowing the thing, it would only reform and reappear right in front of him. When a magical item set its mind to something, surrender wasn’t in its vocabulary.
“Wil,” Jolene said softly, her voice music to his ears. It made him want to reach out and pull her close. He missed the touch of her hand and the long conversations they used to have about their life and the future they’d wanted together. “You’ve got to be cold sitting out here. What on earth are you doing here? And where is your coat? Did you happen to notice it’s snowing again? The nor’easter isn’t playing around. Here you are sitting out in it. Crazy fool. You hoping to freeze to my rocking chair? You should know I’m partial to it and will chisel your old backside out of it with a crowbar.”
Grinning, he opened his eyes, soaking in the sight of her as she gave him the riot act. She was still every bit as beautiful as she’d always been, even with grease smeared on her forehead and cheek. He resisted the urge to reach out and wipe the grease from her flawless skin.
She didn’t look her age, not that it mattered. He’d have still loved her no matter what. She was gorgeous, but she never seemed to realize as much. He blamed her upbringing. Her father had treated her like a son, but he’d treated her with love, so it was hard to be mad at the man.
Jolene’s eyes twinkled with mischief as they always did. She was wild and untamed. The type of woman a man could never dream of fencing in (not that he ever would). He loved her independent streak.
Loved her sass.
Loved the fact she nearly always had grease on her from working on cars.
Loved that she knew her way around just about any engine and could do so with her eyes closed, while he had nearly no skills when it came to vehicles of any sort.
He loved her.
Clearing his throat, Wil came to his senses and held out a to-go cup from Witch’s Brew Coffee Shop. “Figured you’d be working late tonight. Thought you might like some company and some coffee.”
Her gaze narrowed on him as she took the cup, her fingers lingering over his for a moment. Heat flared between them, as was always the case. It warmed him instantly. “Have you finally learned something about cars?”
He snorted. “I know where the gas goes in them. Most of the time.”
That won him a smile from her. He’d always loved her smiles.
“That’s progress, I guess,” she said with a shrug. “Not that I’m not grateful for the coffee, but why are you here, exactly?”
He opened his mouth to tell her about the prediction the crystal balls had made but chickened out at the last second. “I noticed you don’t have any of your Christmas decorations out yet. They’re normally up the day after Thanksgiving. I’m guessing with Sigmund being down in Louisiana still, that no one was here to help hang them. Well, use me. I’m at your service.”
One well-defined brow went up.
He realized how suggestive the comment sounded after the fact. He cleared his throat. “Point me to them and I’ll get them put up.”
“Wil, you’re not about to hang decorations in what could easily turn into blizzard conditions.”
“The cold doesn’t bother me,” he said, thankful for it at the moment, considering how warm being near her made him. “I’ll get started on them now. I can put your tree up for you too, if you want.”
She tipped her head. “I’m not having a tree or decorations this year.”
He watched her closely. Christmas was her favorite time of the year. It always had been. He couldn’t recall a Christmas season since he’d known her that she hadn’t decorated. She normally even had the service station covered in lights.
But not this year.
“Jolene, if you need a man around to help do, um, manly things, I’m here. All you have to do is ask and I’ll be here in a heartbeat,” he confessed.
Her gaze softened more. “Thank you for thinking I’m a damsel in distress but this has nothing to do with needing a man around. I didn’t see much point in decorating since it’s just me here at the house this year. Sigmund has made it fairly clear to me that he’s going to continue to stay down south for the time being. Did you know he told the school board to go ahead and hire someone else as principal of the high school here? They tried to talk him out of it, telling him they didn’t mind having an interim person continue, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”
Wil let out a long, slow breath. He hadn’t heard about Sigmund doing that. Suddenly, he understood why Jolene didn’t feel like celebrating the holidays. The young man—who she thought of like a son since his father, her brother, died—had pulled away from her and the life he’d had here, and he wasn’t showing any signs of coming back into the fold.
Wil knew Jolene enough to know that was killing her inside. Wil had half a mind to fly down to Louisiana, grab Sigmund by his ear, and drag him home to his aunt.
“You’re going to the Christmas party Penelope and Kelsey are throwing, aren’t you?” he asked. The women had been working hard to get everything squared away for the large party they were planning to celebrate the holiday. They wanted to be surrounded by family and friends. He couldn’t blame them.
He did too.
Jolene sipped the coffee and nodded. “Not sure they’d have it any other way. When those two put their heads together, trouble brews.”
He chuckled. It was true. “They always mean well.”
“They do,” she said with a grin. “And it’s good to see them excited about the holidays. They have little ones, which makes a big difference.”
Jolene made a move to sit in the other rocking chair and he noticed her favoring her ankle. He’d been right. It was acting up for her. Guilt consumed him. He knew the truth of how it had been shattered long ago. It had nothing to do with her being clumsy, as she’d tried to tell others. Jolene had always had fast reflexes, poise, and balance.
Wil knew one of his uncles had hurt Jolene in an attempt to scare her away from Wil. In the process, he’d shattered not only Jolene’s ankle, but also what little bit of trust her father had in Wil, and any hope of them ever being together.
She’d loved and respected her father. It had been hard for her to go against him to see Wil. He knew it had torn her up inside and he knew she’d never be safe if he kept seeing her. Wil’s family would kill her to prove a point. And as supernatural hunters, they could have ended her with ease.
His extended family had not been good people. He’d gotten firsthand experience wi
th that when they’d harmed Jolene.
When they’d killed Wil’s son and daughter-in-law twenty-one years ago, all because the two had stood up to them, refusing to allow innocent supernaturals to be harmed, Wil had broken.
He’d already been so close to the edge with them from what they’d done to him and Jolene that when his son and daughter-in-law died, Wil snapped. It had been the straw that broke the hunter’s back.
He’d attacked them with a rage that should have scared him. It hadn’t. They’d taken everything from him—Jolene, his son, his daughter-in-law, and because of them, Penelope had been taken from him as well. She’d only just found her way back to Everlasting, and he planned on never letting her be out of his life again.
He didn’t plan to let Jolene slip through his fingers again, either.
His extended family was no longer a threat to anyone.
He’d seen to that years ago.
And he’d not told a soul what he’d done to them.
Jolene winced, and Wil jumped to his feet, his hand finding her elbow. He eased the cup of coffee from her other hand and kept hold of her. “How about we go inside out of the cold? I know your ankle is bothering you.”
She tensed, her gaze sweeping over him. “How do you know that?”
“Lucky guess,” he said, motioning his head toward her back door. “I’m not letting you sit out here in the cold when I know you’re hurting. Let’s get you inside and get that ankle propped with some ice on it. That or we’re going to have to stick it in a snowdrift. You decide.”
She hesitated, and Wil knew why. He’d never been in her home. At least not this one. He’d been in her first house, the one she had lived in with the man she’d ended up marrying after they’d gone their separate ways. Though, Jolene had no knowledge that Wil had ever been in her first home. By that point, they’d not spoken in years. When he’d found out she’d married, it had been a blow he wasn’t expecting. He’d done the same, so he couldn’t blame her.