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Authors: Frances Stockton

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“I just don’t want you to think I’m asking for too much too
soon where we’re concerned. We’ve known each other for a while, but only got
together. College is expensive and being an archaeologist could take a long
time.”

“Somewhere in there, I think there’s part of you that’s
still wondering if I might walk away. Am I right?”

God, he hit it on the head perfectly. “I know you love me,
Ethan. I love you too. It’s just that I’ve been hurt so much that it’s hard to
shake off doubt sometimes. I don’t want to lose you…ever.”

“Look at me,” he said with enough emphasis to reflect his
sincerity. He waited until she obeyed before continuing. He had beautiful gray
eyes. “You’re never going to lose me.”

“What if I misjudge you or mess up again?”

“We all make mistakes, me included. I was the dumbass who
hurt your feelings not too long ago. The fact is, I might say or do the wrong
thing in the future. We’ll have disagreements.”

“We’re both very strong people, with very different views,”
she said.

“We also have a lot of the same interests and likes,
everything from movies to favorite flavor of ice cream. I’m not saying things
will be smooth sailing forever, but as long as we keep our hearts open to each
other, we’ll be okay.”

“You’re a very confident man.”

“With you I am. You’re my woman, Morgan. I’m staying. It’s
just a matter of figuring out the logistics.”

“What do you mean?”

“Logistics, such as where we’ll live together. Right now
we’re playing house at Phalen and Cassie’s. Next week I have to go back to
work. I’m hoping you’ll stay with me in Boston on the weekends. Weeknights,
I’ll come to Salem when I get off work and stay with you.”

“That could be difficult, but not impossible. You’d have to
get up very early in the morning to get through traffic from North Shore to
Boston.”

“If you don’t mind some late night lovemaking when I come
home, I don’t mind getting up early to go to work. Eventually, I’m hoping that
wherever we live, you feel comfortable enough to call it home.”

“Home?” she said, loving the idea of making a home with Ethan.
They really were talking about a future together.

“Yes, a home, you and I living together, maybe we’ll get a
dog. After we figure out who attacked you and Sam and I find enough evidence to
reopen Jenna’s case, we can start talking about more permanent arrangements.”

“I’ve never been to the brownstone. I’d like to see it.
Specifically your bedroom. I’ve overheard Taran complaining because you took
over the master suite. Cassie said your bedroom is three times the size of
Phalen’s studio apartment above Ink Masters.”

“I am second oldest. It was my right. Don’t let Taran
intimidate you for access to our room.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Taran’s room was connected to my old one via a bathroom.
He’s already had a contractor come in and remodel the rooms so that his area of
the house is his own. There’s even a small kitchen up there. He got it from an
RV supply company.”

“And the…ah…dungeon, is it in the basement?” she asked,
having to know.

“The basement is set up for our band to practice regularly
and a workshop to make dungeon gear.”

If that was the case, where was the dungeon? Her curiosity
must have shone on her face because Ethan lifted his brow and grinned in a way
that warned he might break into grizzly mode any second.

That was the thing about bears, they were unpredictable.

“Dungeons do not have to be downstairs, sweet sub. When the
time comes, I will reveal my dungeon to you. It’s a sure bet you’ll never get a
glimpse of Taran’s.”

“I’d like to see yours. Guess next weekend I will, Detective
Maddox.”

“Yes, you will, Ms. Everhart. For the record, once you enter
the dungeon, it becomes ours. Sometime in the future, I’m hoping you’ll want to
change your last name to Maddox.”

Morgan Maddox? Some might not like it. She didn’t give a
damn. Being a Maddox was part of what made Ethan sexy as hell. He was proud,
confident and a little arrogant. He was also the kind of man a woman could
count on to be there through thick or thin.

Being his wife would be an honor. If she had the chance,
she’d take his last name and make it hers.

“There’s a good chance I’d accept it,” she said.

Ethan’s smile became warmer, gentler. He was so handsome
right then, she swore her tummy did a little victory dance. Somehow, someway,
she’d won this great man’s heart. Just as she’d cherish his name, she’d
treasure his love.

“Then let’s get on over to your shop and talk to Remy. I
called and told him we’d be there about one. We can stop in at the diner for a
late lunch, check on things there.”

“Alex might be there,” Morgan commented. “Between the diner,
being an agent and running Druid Creek Castle, he’s a busy man.”

“That’s true. Knowing Alex Grant, he’s not shirking his
responsibilities to his clients. In fact, starting in November, he’s bringing
in each of his athletes for face-to-face contract negotiations, discussing
endorsement deals and anything else involved in being their agent.”

“That’s a great idea. The creek and the walking trails
around the property are especially nice.”

“You really like it there, regardless of what happened
Monday night?”

“Yes I do. Do I want the person who struck me to be caught?
Yes, mainly for the safety of others.”

“You’re a good person, Morgan.”

“So are you, Ethan.” He leaned down, kissed her lips softly,
then touched his mouth to her forehead.

The bandages were getting smaller, the bruising still
visible, but improving. The only problem now was that the healing cut itched.
Every time Morgan tried to scratch, Ethan caught her hand and promised to cuff
her if she kept it up.

Later, she just might see if he would bring out his cuffs.
She’d like to be Detective Maddox’s willing prisoner.

They moved away from the tree, continuing on their walk
around the Common. It was incredibly peaceful here. Some people strolled around
leisurely, while some picnicked or tossed Frisbees with their dogs.

In its heyday, Salem Common was the place where citizens
could bring their livestock to graze. It also served as a spot where young men
learned to shoot in preparation of serving in the military.

If someone followed the footpaths, they’d get a view of the
Salem Witch History Museum, the antiquated and popular Hawthorne Hotel and
local historical society building, as well as other long-standing buildings and
businesses.

Gradually they made their way to the street that led to the
square where Enchanted Treasures resided along with Book Haven Diner, Ink
Masters and a privately owned gym and martial arts dojo specializing in
Taekwondo training.

Grandma Everhart had inherited the small three-room dark
wood house that dated back to the witch trials. The house was eventually
restructured into a shop containing a decently sized area for shelves and stock
and a small backroom where Morgan did private readings. The third room was a
unisex handicapped-equipped bathroom with a simple toilet and sink.

“You know, as proud as I am to know you want to go to
college, Morgan, I like Enchanted Treasures. It’s very you,” Ethan said as they
neared the building.

“It’s pretty old. I’d like to think I have plenty of years
to go.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, honey. It’s not the building so
much as the things you sell. It also smells real nice.”

“Incense, Grandma loved it, especially sandalwood and
frankincense. I prefer jasmine. I got into the habit of using it when I’m able
to watch over the burner.”

“That’s why you smell so good all the time. We’ll have to
keep up the habit when we’re home alone.”

“I’d like that.”

“Tell me about your grandmother. It seems as though you were
very close to her.”

Stopping on the sidewalk, Morgan looked at the small dark
brown colonial-style building. Its ties to history were showcased by the
historical society plaque fastened to the outside wall.

“Grandma Everhart was a dear woman. She taught me everything
I needed to know about my abilities. Mostly to not be afraid of them and trust
what the spirits of the past had to say.”

“Your desire to be an archaeologist makes sense then.”

“Yes. Grandma and my dad’s family were originally from
Salem, Massachusetts. He moved to upstate New York to take a professor’s
position at SUNY.”

“Your grandmother stayed here, I take it?”

“She did. Enchanted Treasures belonged to her
great-great-grandfather who came to Massachusetts Bay to practice the Puritan
faith without condemnation and to open a small general store. It was located
not far from Essex Street, near the John Corwin Witch House.”

“That’s why your shop looked familiar to me when I first saw
it. It’s a small replica of Corwin’s house.”

“Yes, many compare the two. It was here that Reginald
Everhart lived with his wife, Virginia. Together they made a home and raised
their small family. Eventually, it was handed down the generations to my
grandmother, who never married. She converted it into the shop.”

“Was the Everhart family affected by the witch trials?”

“Very much so,” Morgan answered. “Virginia was accused of
witchcraft because the Everhart store was profiting due to its proximity to the
water and her incredible talent at sewing. Fortunately, the trials ended before
she could be imprisoned or tried.”

“Thank goodness,” Ethan said. “What happened to the store?”

“It eventually collapsed from age. Virginia and Reginald
were too old by then to rebuild. Their kids had married and moved away, so she
began selling handmade clothes from home.”

“Having such a rich history in your family must be
fascinating for you.”

“Definitely, Sara Everhart, my grandma, inherited more than
Reginald and Virginia’s home. It’s been legend in our family that she gained
the gift of sight from Virginia and handed it down to me.”

Ethan shifted in nice and close. “I would have liked to get
to know her.”

“Through me, you can. When things are quiet, maybe I can get
her to talk to you too.”

He smiled at that. “Grandma talks to you?”

“She may be in heaven, but she watches over me.”

“I’m glad. I hope someday to meet her. One thing though. If
my touching you keeps psychometry at bay, will it affect seeing her or any of
the spirits you communicate with?”

“I don’t believe so. What happened with the tux coat you’d
put on my shoulders at the wedding?”

“You saw Jenna. When I touched you, she went away.”

“Don’t you see? I saw her while I was with you. Yes, she
faded when you touched me. But I was close to getting a migraine. The
discomfort went away because of you. Jenna went away because she no longer had
strength to stay. When I get caught up in the visions, you’re the one who keeps
me safe.”

“I’m your anchor,” he concluded.

“That’s right.”

“Then I say introduce me to Grandma Everhart.”

“Maybe I can also get you in on the investigation of Druid
Creek Castle,” Morgan offered. “It’s Remy’s call, but since his team is going
to do a lockdown there whenever Alex can schedule it, you might be surprised by
what you discover.”

“Can we be locked down in the same room?”

“Lockdowns are not erotica gone wild nights, Detective!”

“Spoilsport,” he teased. “I’ll tie you up my way then. And
teach you what happens to naughty little subs who misbehave.”

“Promises, promises,” she countered, looking right at him
when she winked.

“Inside with you. When we get home, you can expect to answer
for what you’ve done.”

“What have I done?” she asked innocently, becoming more in
tune with his body language.

He was turned-on. In fact, he had to shift uncomfortably.
She bet his big cock was pushing at the zipper of his jeans for freedom.

Unfortunately, his coat covered him adequately. Damn!

“You’ll see later.” Ethan gently grasped her by the
shoulders, turned her about and gave a slight push to get her moving toward the
front of her shop.

Inside, she inhaled the familiar scent of jasmine and looked
about the store. There were bookshelves along the far wall that Cassie had
given her a couple a months ago. The shelves were stocked with such as works as
The Crucible
,
The Devil in Massachusetts
and
Salem Possessed
,
some of her favorite accounts of the witch trials.

There were also atlases dating from the 1600s to current-day
Salem, books on witchcraft, Wicca, Druidism, numerology, Tarot, palm reading
and various other psychic arts as well as astrology. Three hanging racks had
locally handcrafted cloaks, skirts and dresses that were perfect for Halloween
costumes.

The remaining merchandise was displayed on tables, racks and
bins. She sold everything from crystals and Tarot cards to a supply of
top-notch ghost hunting equipment.

“Remy? Mary?” she called out.

Remy came out of the back room with Mary close behind. One
glance at the two and it was obvious Mary had a serious case of hero worship.
But Remy showed no sign of inappropriateness or answering attraction and he
beamed with a great big smile.

Of course, she knew darned well Remy’s heart belonged to
someone else…and maybe another whom he’d yet to meet.

“About time you two got here,” he called out, crossing the
floor to take Morgan in his arms.

“Careful there, don’t break her,” Ethan warned.

“Not going to hurt her, don’t worry, buddy.” Remy stepped
away from her, retaining her hands in his. His eyes landed on her forehead.
“Any luck finding who did this to Morgan?”

“Danvers cops are still working on it. It’s amazing how many
customers were in the bar and back room, but very few recall seeing anything
out of the ordinary.”

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