You’ll Understand When You’re Dead: Broken Heart Vampires Book 12 (4 page)

N
ATALIE ALMOST DROPPED
the basket of cookies when the doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock.
Matt.
For some reason, he felt obligated to offer help, and she wasn’t going to admit that the idea of spending the evening with him at the food festival thrilled her to no end.

As she went to answer the door, she swore she felt her heart pounded in an uneven rhythm.
Anxiety,
she thought.
You don’t have a heartbeat.
The fact that she had seen Matthew Dennison gloriously naked set her non-existent pulse skittering.

“Get a grip,” she muttered, smoothing the pink summer dress. She answered the door, pasting on a nervous smile.

“Hello, Natalie.”

Matt’s deep voice made her pulse leap. His green eyes reminded her of the weeping willow trees so prevalent in Broken Heart.

“It smells like cinnamon,” he said.

Natalie’s gaze swept over him. Dressed in a crisp short-sleeved green shirt and khaki walking shorts, Matt looked lean and healthy, giving “delicious” a whole new meaning.

“That was a hint,” Matt said. “For breakfast.”

She shook out of her weird revelry and realized she hadn’t said a word since she’d opened the door. “I baked cinnamon rolls when I woke up.”

“My favorite.”

Leading the way to the kitchen, Natalie sucked in a breath and tried to center herself. She was obviously frazzled by the ghost proposal and zombie dance-off and Kimmie’s potentially dating a pierced boy named Jackal. And, oh yeah, the stress of not picturing Matt naked.

Crap.

She was totally picturing Matt naked.

She used tongs to remove a thickly frosted roll, put it on a paper plate, and handed it to him.

He took a huge bite and chewed. After he swallowed, he looked at her. “That’s the best cinnamon roll I’ve ever had.”

She grinned. “I know.”

Natalie faced the stove and finished putting cookies into the last basket. Naked Matt refused to leave her thoughts, and her body started to get the tingles. Matt probably knew sexual acts that were illegal in most countries.

The cookie in her hand snapped in two.

“Where should I start?” asked Matt.

Maybe the missionary position then you can work your way up to something more exotic
, Natalie thought, but didn’t dare say. Instead, she turned, holding the basket and giving him what she hoped was a cheerful expression. Pointing to the variety of prepared goods scattered on the counter, she said, “Start here. The minivan’s unlocked. There’s a special cart in the back to hold everything in place.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winked at her and pleasure swirled through her.

Pretending nonchalance, she ignored the sudden pounding of her heart. His gaze would have melted frozen butter. He reached around her head and pulled out the ponytail holder. Her hair tumbled down. With gentle hands, he spread it out, touching her temples as his fingers combed through her hair. She shivered.

He stood back, looking at her as if he was an artist who’d just painted a canvas. “Beautiful.” Whistling, he stacked three cake boxes in his arms and left.

T
HE FIRST COUPLE
of hours passed in a flurry of Bloody Good Cupcakes (with O positive blood middles), Cat Cookies (with a sprinkle of catnip for the werecats), Chocolate Chewies (a favorite among the werewolves), and a bevy of cakes and cookies and pies for the humans and those among the parakind who liked less supernatural in their desserts.

All the residents of Broken Heart turned out for the festival. Games, rides, homemade treats, and the opportunity to dunk the werewolf king and his brothers in a hundred gallon tank of vanilla pudding were part of the fun. The evening would end with a huge fireworks display.

Matt had gone to the minivan to retrieve more baked goods. Ever so often, Kimmie and Jenny would appear and help out, but they would disappear again before she could have an actual conversation with them.

“Hello, babykins.”

Natalie looked up from rearranging the cake selections and stifled a groan. “Don’t call me babykins. What are you doing here, Jerry?”

He puffed up a bit, the awful blue jacket bunching around his waist. “Just wanted to see if the flesh-freak had broken your heart yet.”

She sighed. “No,” she said. “He hasn’t.”

His doughboy face fell, and he hung his head. The moonlight glinted off his bald spot. Poor guy. He was cute in a crestfallen sort of way.

“Here are your pies, darling,” Matt said smoothly, putting the cherry cobblers on the table with a flourish. Startled, Natalie looked at Matt.
Darling?
Belatedly she remembered he’d engaged himself to her yesterday.

“Thank you, er, honey.”

“No kiss?” Matt asked. He swept her into his arms and dipped her, brushing his warm lips over hers. Her body chilled, then heated. Delightful shivers scurried up her spine. He kissed her again, his mouth skimming over her jaw line and down her neck. Natalie clutched his shoulders. “Matt.”

He looked at her, his gaze hungry. She forgot to breathe as she stared at him. He was pretending to want her for Jerry’s sake—she knew that, but her knees didn’t because they felt wobbly. Matt straightened, drawing her close to him. “Jerry. How’s it going? Haunted anything recently?”

Jerry scowled at Matt, apparently intending to look ferocious, but to Natalie he looked more like a lost puppy who didn’t know how to growl. Jerry faded away, but Matt didn’t release her. He gathered her close, and she smelled his light cologne as she was pressed against his chest.

“He’s gone,” she said.

“I know.” His smile was warm, but his gaze hadn’t lost the fierce need she’d seen earlier. “You think that did the trick?”

It took a moment for her to find her voice. “Yes.”

“Hey, Matt. Um, I hate to interrupt...whatever I’m interrupting, but do you mind filling in at the pudding tank for a little while?”

They turned and eyed one of the werewolf triplets. Natalie could never figure out which triplet was which, especially now with this one covered head to toe in creamy vanilla pudding.

“How did you get talked into that, man?” Matt laughed.

“Patsy can be very persuasive.” He sent a pleading look to the psychic. “C’mon, please. Damian won’t be here for another hour, and I literally have pudding coming out of my ears.”

“All right, Darrius. But you owe me.” Matt looked at Natalie. “You don’t mind, do you?”

She laughed at the sudden picture in her mind of him covered in pudding. “Oh, no. I don’t mind at all.” She needed to text Jessica and Eva to go take him down, and then get photographic evidence. Jessica was a helluva shot, probably because she’d gotten so good at beating people up with her swords.

He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be back later.”

She watched as Matt and Darrius walked to the midway and admired the view from behind. The dunk tank was on the other side of the field, out of her sight unfortunately. Natalie rearranged all the items on the table, then dropped into a folding chair.

“Hey, Mom. How’s it going?”

Kimmie’s hair had lost the red food-coloring look. She’d chosen to wear a simple pair of stud earrings and no make-up. She wore a white T-shirt and jeans with a pair of high tops. Natalie felt her daughter’s forehead. “What happened? Are you okay? Where’s that purple thing with the silver spikes you were wearing?”

“Oh my God, Mom. I just felt like changing, okay?”

Natalie peered at her daughter’s eyes. Solemn and sincere. And not to be trusted. Natalie looked at Jenny, whose expression was also too innocent. “What’s going on?”

Kimmie and Jenny exchanged a look that made Natalie nervous. Then Kimmie shrugged. “Why go eat bad food or play a game? We’ll watch the booth.”

“You’re volunteering to work?” She felt her daughter’s forehead again. “You’re definitely sick.”

“I’m fine,” she said with teenage exasperation. “Go have some fun already.”

Like dunk a tall, handsome psychic in a tank full of pudding?

“All right.”

“You should try the shaved ice, Mrs. Haltom,” said Jenny. “There’s a blood-coconut version that my mom really likes. Our friend Tilda is manning the booth. See? She’s over there.”

Natalie followed Jenny’s pointing arm to a booth set up between two pecan trees and staffed by a young Goth girl making snow cones. Natalie felt peckish, especially since she’d had bagged blood today instead visiting her donor. “That sounds good.”

She walked to the booth and stood in line.

“Hiya.” Natalie turned and saw a man in a gray jumpsuit standing next to her.

He had the ghost glow.

Crap.

“You Natalie?”

She squinted at him. “Do you know Jerry?”

“Nope. I’m Tony Williams.”

He reminded her a little too much of Norman Bates. His eyes were a dull brown, his teeth yellow, and his hair stringy. The jumpsuit he wore was stained and threadbare. She didn’t like his vibe at all.

“Do you need help?” she asked. “Because I can send you to a good afterlife counselor.”

“You wanted to date me,” he said. “Here I am.”

What the hell? Another ghost suitor? Ugh.

“You’re dead,” said Natalie.

“So are you, toots.”

He did not just call me toots.
“No, I’m undead. You’re actually dead.”

“Who cares? I don’t see why you’re complaining. You asked for dead guys.”

“I did not.”

“I’m doing you a favor,” he said, flashing a yellowed smile. “Do you smoke?”

“No,” she said. “Vampires don’t have the lung capacity to inhale.”

“Damn it. I’d kill for a
Marlboro
.”

Natalie wondered if he really had killed someone for cigarettes. Tony’s face narrowed to a point, and his eyes were small black beads. She had the feeling that being nice wasn’t going to get rid of him.

“Go away,” she said.

“I ain’t leaving. This town is a dump, but it’s better than limbo.” He leered at her. “You wanna do it?”

“Hey, shithead.”

Natalie and the ghost turned. Queen Patsy stood there, hands on her jean-clad hips, her irritated gaze on Tony.

“Hey, toots,” said Tony, turning his leer on Patsy. “You wanna do a threesome?”

“You are delusional.” Patsy lifted her hand.

To Tony’s surprise he was yanked upward.

“Back to where you belong, creep.” She made a pushing gesture, and a small black hole appeared. Tony cried out as his ghostly form was sucked into it. Then the hole closed.

“Thanks,” said Natalie. “I wish I could do that trick.”

“You just have to marry a blood wolf and become queen of the vampires,” said Patsy. “Easy peasy.”

Natalie laughed.

“Mom!” came a chorus of children’s voices. Patsy snapped her fingers. “I was so close to escape.” She turned toward the four children and the man with moon-white hair coming toward her. As much as Patsy pretended to grouse about motherhood, Natalie knew how much she loved her family. Patsy waved good-bye and joined her brood.

Natalie was no longer in the mood for a shaved ice, so she returned to the booth.

The girls were staring at her open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

“What happened?” asked Kimmie. “You get in a fight with your invisible friend?”

“Ha, ha.” Natalie waved off her daughter’s concerns. “Don’t worry about it. He was a confused ghost who Patsy sent back to the other side.”

“What did he want?”

“To date me.”

Jenny gasped, and then slapped a hand over her mouth. Kimmie had gone pale. Natalie eyed both of them. “Seriously, you two. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” said Kimmie. “We promised Tilda we’d help her.” She grabbed Jenny’s arm and dragged her away.

Natalie stared after them.

Teenagers. Sheesh.

M
ATT HAD GOTTEN
dunked three times into the pudding tank thanks to Jessica Matthews. When his hour was finally over and Damian arrived, he struggled out of the vanilla goop. Jessica held up her iPhone and took a picture of him.

“Victory is mine,” she yelled. Then she ran off before he could properly kill her.

Pudding coated every inch of his body.

Darrius took pity on him. The back seat of his car had been tarped up for this very reason, so Matt crawled in back and dripped like a slow-melting snowman on the way home.

By the time he showered, dressed and got into his car, another hour had passed. He was eager to get back to Natalie. Something inside him ached for her. His libido, probably.

Natalie was packing up when he arrived at the booth.

“You’re done?”

“The fireworks will start soon, and I’m nearly sold out of everything. But I did save you an apple pie.” She picked it up and showed him, her smile wide and happy.

Then she was knocked sideways.

The pie flew out of her hands and splatted against a nearby tree.

Matt stared at the ghost cow. The damned thing had appeared out of nowhere and head-butted Natalie.

The cow mooed.

Natalie leapt behind Matt and clutched his shoulders. The cow snorted and pawed the ground.

“Nice cow,” said Matt. “Good cow.”

“Should we run?” asked Natalie

“Yes. We should definitely run.”

“We can hide in the minivan.”

Matt took off in a sprint, Natalie close on his heels. They jumped into the back of the minivan and slammed the doors shut.

“The universe doesn’t want me to have pie,” said Matt.

“Well, at least the universe isn’t trying to kill you by cow.”

They stared at each other, and Matt had an insane urge to kiss her. He’d tasted Natalie twice now, and wanted to do it again. And again. And again. Times infinity. He was attracted to her, damn it. He loved the cute little dip in her cheek and those nine freckles sprinkled across her nose. Oh, man. When had he counted her freckles?

“Should we check to see if it’s gone?” asked Natalie.

No,
he wanted to say,
we should stay in here and make out.
He peered out the back door window. The cow had disappeared.

“It’s safe,” he said, and managed only mild disappointment.

Natalie popped open the door and looked around. “Let’s hurry.”

T
ILDA HAD CONVINCED
her aunts to let Jenny and Kimmie spend the night. They were piled onto her bed looking at books Tilda had swiped from the witches’ library.

“What is going on?” asked Kimmie as she leafed through
Spellcasting and The Urban Witch.
“Why are ghosts hitting on my mom?”

“Because,” said Jenny, “you asked for dead guys. Ghosts are about as dead as you can get.”

“I meant vampires,” said Kimmie.

“Those are the undead,” said Tilda. She was reading the contents page from
Witchcraft for Dummies
. “There’s nothing in here about breaking love spells. You’d think that would be witchcraft one-oh-one.”

“I thought love spells were among the no-nos,” added Jenny. “Like raising the dead or rigging the lottery.”

Tilda nibbled her bottom lip. “Well, not exactly. I mean, we were talking about dating, not falling in love.”

Kimmie closed the book. “We have to fix this. Quick.”

“Maybe we should just ‘fess up,” said Jenny.

“No!” Kimmie and Tilda yelled together.

Jenny rolled her eyes. “Fine. What’s our plan of action?”

“We shouldn’t have broken the circle,” said Tilda. “That’s probably how they got through in the first place.” She sighed. “We need to find a binding spell, call them back, and stick them into the otherworld where they belong.”

“All right. Bookmark anything that fits the bill,” said Kimmie. “We have a lot of reading to do.”

“Exactly how I like spending my Saturday nights,” muttered Jenny.

Kimmie poked her best friend on the shoulder. “Shut up and read.”

W
HEN SHE PULLED
into the driveway, Natalie felt exhaustion overwhelm her. Dawn was not that far away. She really wanted to take a hot bubble bath before she crawled into her coffin. Hah. Okay, it was a basement bedroom with no windows so the sunlight couldn’t get to her.

Yawning, she exited the car and had barely shut the door when Matt pulled up in his black Jeep.

“Thanks for sticking around to help,” she said as she opened the van’s back doors.

“My pleasure.”

Matt delivered the items from the minivan to the kitchen where Natalie put them away. Soon everything was done. Natalie offered Matt some iced tea, but he declined. They stood in the kitchen, listening to the clock tick, and Natalie wondered why Matt was still here. He could handle the sunlight, but she wouldn’t be able to keep her eyes open. Vampires pretty much died during the day.

Natalie rubbed the back of her neck, refusing to look at him.

“How about a shoulder rub?”

Before she could say, no, Matt was behind her, his hands working magical circles. Kneading out the kinks, smoothing away tightness, helping her relax. She sighed deeply and leaned into the massage. Slowly, Natalie became aware of the change in Matt’s touches, how his fingers stroked long lines down her back and up her arms. His warm breath stirred the hair at the nape of her neck.

His proximity did funny things to her stomach. She smelled his earthy, masculine scent, with a hint of vanilla left over from the pudding dunk. Her skin warmed where his hands touched her. Her body felt hot, tingly.

She stilled, afraid he wouldn’t move—afraid he would. An aeon passed, and then Matt’s hands trailed up her ribcage, stopping under her breasts. She felt the barest touch of his fingers. Her gasp was sharp.

“You’re beautiful, Natalie,” Matt whispered. His lips found the curve of her neck, and his tongue traced a path to her ear.

Natalie didn’t want him to stop, even though it was foolhardy to even think of consummating their fake engagement. She turned in his arms and pressed against his chest. She heard his heart double its already frantic beat as he lowered his mouth.

His lips covered hers. His mouth was warm and tasted like coffee. When he teased her with his tongue, heat speared her. She felt drugged as her hands sought the firm muscles of his chest then crept higher to trace his collarbone. Her fingers slid into the soft thickness of his hair. Natalie deepened the kiss, pulling Matt closer, meeting his desire with her own. His groan sent sparks dancing down her spine.

She felt shattered and whole at the same time.

“Natalie.” Matt pulled away, his heated gaze filled with a hunger that weakened her knees.

“We can’t,” she said.

“I know.” Matt released her and retreated across the kitchen. She watched him run a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” Her chest constricted. Stupid vampire rules. She hadn’t been touched or kissed or taken in far too long. Still, Natalie knew pleasure for the sake of pleasure would never be enough, so it wasn’t like she would fall into bed with him even if she could. Probably. She knew her own heart too well. Even if she could have sex without mating to Matt, she wouldn’t have a fling. Her emotions would get tangled into the sex. Where Matt was concerned, she knew hurt would be swift and deep when they couldn’t make it work, whether he wanted it to or not.

“Good night, Natalie.”

“Good night, Matt.”

He nodded and left the kitchen. Moments passed before she heard the front door shut. The solid click echoed through the house.

Well, she thought. That was that.