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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2022 Stephanie Flynn

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author Stephanie Flynn, subject line “Attention: Permission Request,” at the address below.

  [email protected]

  First edition

  Cover design by Stephanie Flynn

  ISBN eBook: 978-1-952372-70-4

  ISBN paperback: 978-1-952372-71-1

  Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  1. Followed

  2. Hope Sinks

  3. The Plea

  4. Bad Idea

  5. Rules

  6. A Deal

  7. Games Begin

  8. Found

  9. Hunted

  10. So Many Questions

  11. Not Enough Answers

  12. Caught

  13. Game Over

  14. The Protector

  15. Cozy

  16. Wrong Answer

  17. Refuse to Accept

  18. The Digits

  19. Advice

  20. Hope Blooms

  21. No Regrets

  Dear Reader,

  Also By Stephanie Flynn

  About Stephanie Flynn

  Blurb

  With my grumpy face, I've successfully fought off my meddling mother's matchmaking attempts until now. She orchestrates a not-cute game for a group of eligible bachelors to catch a key tied to a cat's collar. To make it more humiliating, she places a spell on me, forcing me to remain in my cat form until I let one man win.

  I have to choose right, because the spell binds us magically, but based on the motley group waiting on my front porch, I’ll be getting plenty of exercise for the rest of my nine lives.

  To my inspiring crazy cats and all your

  weirdness, this is for you.

  (Why won't you talk to me?!?)

  (No, I'm not a crazy cat lady, I swear!)

  Chapter 1

  Followed

  I squeezed an orange for fitness and added it to a thin plastic bag. It should’ve been an ordinary grocery run, but I couldn’t shake this feeling of being watched. As I tied the bag, I scanned the big-box grocery store. A sprinkling of customers around me minded their own business. Not one of them looked at me. My patented grumpy face kept most everyone at bay, so of course, no one was watching me. I set the oranges in the basket at the crook of my arm.

  My paranoia nagged just like my mother, Gracie, and her silly ideas for my life. Well, my life consisted of making dinner, washing dishes, and scrubbing floors. Sounded normal until I got to the part of showering my mother, washing her bedding, managing her medications and appointments. The grocery store was my temporary escape, and now my moment of peace was being ruined.

  I glanced inconspicuously over my shoulder. And…no one suspicious. It had to be all in my head. I moved to another aisle and chose a box of noodles for tonight. Gracie always had her input, and I listened to her, but since she couldn’t take care of herself any longer, the menu was my choice. I took a few steps and grabbed a jar of traditional red sauce to go with it. Oh, Gracie was going to give me words about it, but unless she wanted to blend up tomatoes and chop fresh herbs by herself—not happening—I was going to doctor this jar and she was going to like it.

  With her extensive and exhausting care, perhaps something as basic as dinner was my one attempt to control an aspect of my life. I wasn’t complaining. Life, lemons, lemonade and all that. But if I’d been born a witch like my mother, scrubbing the floors would’ve been so much easier.

  With my extra perceptive senses, the feeling of being watched returned. I spun, and a man wearing dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and a blue unbuttoned shirt hanging loose like a jacket, stood near me. He was reading the label on a jar of sauce—the fancy Alfredo kind. Was he going to add shrimp to his fettuccine? That sounded amazing, but sadly, Gracie couldn’t have dairy. As I stared, puzzled about why my brain was so bored I invented dinner plans for a stranger, he faced me.

  I gasped like I was caught red-handed trying to steal his wallet.

  He smiled, showing a bright gleam of white teeth and a crinkling at the corners of his gorgeous blue eyes. Thick, wavy dark hair with a few glistens of gray had me guessing late thirties, early forties. He was distinguished, handsome as hell, and someone I’d never seen in our small town before. Since Gracie set me up so many times, I thought I’d met everyone.

  “Spaghetti, huh?” he asked, looking at my choices.

  I tucked a stray lock of blond hair behind my ear. “Shrimp fettuccine Alfredo?”

  The handsome stranger chuckled and returned the jar to the shelf. My eye caught on a talisman hanging around his neck—round, antique bronze, with a symbol carved into it. I’d never seen anything like it, but it looked old. “Just browsing. You know, killing time.”

  Killing time in a grocery store but not shopping. This sexy stranger sure was intriguing. “Why here? There’s a bar down the block and a park in the opposite direction."

  “I’m not a drinker, and I don’t have a use for parks. I’m here for a little business, and a little for personal reasons.” The stranger swept his piercing blue eyes over me from my messy bun to skinny jeans and ankle booties.

  Heat tore through my body.

  Chapter 2

  Hope Sinks

  I shifted the weight of the shopping basket in my arm and stepped closer to the sexy stranger, wanting to catch a whiff of his scent.

  “Well, when I have free time…which… Huh,” I sputtered, attempting to share an idea for alleviating boredom, but I’d never had that problem. Gracie kept me on my toes all the time, except when she pushed me into blind dates. I always argued against it, but ultimately, I surrendered for the sake of her stubbornness and bedtime routine. My patented grumpy face meant most dates were a bust. Like this stranger, I had no use for bars or the parks, and apparently no better ideas to offer.

  “You’re never bored,” he finished for me. “You must lead an exciting life. Those exotic oranges just reek of a well-traveled tongue.”

  Heat rushed up my throat and cheeks. Speaking of well-traveled… “I thought I knew everyone in town, but I’ve never seen you before. Are you new here or just passing through?” Please say new, please say new.

  “I’ve been around. Actually, I have a place nearby, but I’m not there much. Work keeps me busy.” He glanced away, tipping his face up over the shelf as if looking for someone.

  Now he made sense. Of course, a sexy man wouldn’t be ‘killing time’ alone in a grocery store. He had someone here he was waiting for, and now I hoped an angry or jealous woman wouldn’t come claw my eyes out. I couldn’t afford any more humiliation in this small town. With the stories floating around of me being cold, heartless, and generally grumpy around men, I was surprised he was willing to talk to me at all. Then again, he seemed different from the men Gracie had scrounged together. But just as quick as it began, it was over. “Oh, I didn’t mean to get in your way. Don’t let me hold you back from whoever—”

  The stranger focused on me again. “You’re not. I’m Mikeal, by the way.” He struck out a hand.

  I shook it, a quiver of nerves dancing all along my body. “Maggie. Nice to meet you.”

  “Pleasure i
s all mine.” He leaned forward as if he were going to kiss my knuckles, but he didn’t. He released me and stood up straight, but his eyes swept along my body again. “There’s not much going on in this town. What do you do for a living?”

  The first man I had any interest in whatsoever was now going to run for the hills. Like I said, just as quick as it began, it was over. Too bad because Gracie would’ve liked him. “I’m my mother’s full-time caretaker. She’s sick.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that in more ways than one.”

  I tilted my head, confused about his sympathy, but I didn’t want to be rude. “Thank you. What kind of work in this dreadfully small town could possibly keep you so busy I’ve never seen you before?”

  Mikeal’s piercing blue eyes met mine. “A job I wish I could quit.”

  “Then do it.” That sounded like an easy answer to a simple problem, unlike mine.

  Mikeal smiled. “If only it were that easy. Speaking of which, I truly must be going. It’s been a pleasure to finally meet you, Maggie. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  Finally? He was still interested despite my reputation. I smiled like a loony. “I’d like that.”

  Before I could ask for his digits, he disappeared around the corner. And he didn’t offer them to me either. So much for interested. Knowing my luck and severe lack of free time, I needed to stomp that hope until it was dead. It was a useless mindset.

  Chapter 3

  The Plea

  After dinner, I scrubbed the dishes, but my brain had been stuck on Mikeal with the piercing blue eyes. Gracie always insisted I find someone to marry. In her feeble condition, no matter how much she protested, she needed my help. Until she moved beyond the veil, I’d happily bring her soup and wash the floors, since her magic was weakening along with her body. Our remaining time was short, and I had plenty of years left to figure myself out afterward, but I didn’t want to think about that. I never wanted to choose to place some stranger ahead of my mother’s needs. And that meant Mikeal was just a fantasy who lived on in my memory.

  Besides, he didn’t leave me his phone number. I sighed and moved the wash rag in mindless circles.

  “Margaret Mae Jones, what did you do this time?” Gracie asked with stern disappointment on her tongue. “I heard it didn’t go well.”

  Oh, the use of my full name meant I was in trouble. I rinsed the plate and settled it on the drying rack. We’d had this same conversation so many times I considered joining a convent to escape it, but as none would ever accept what I was, it was just an idle thought. “He wouldn’t stop staring at his phone, so I gave him something to stare at.”

  Arms crossed over her soft chest, Gracie waited for details of my last blind date from hell—Kyle. His name alone made me shiver.

  I rolled my eyes and reached for another plate. “An empty chair, okay? I ditched Kyle at the restaurant. He went on and on about...fantasy football, I think? I don’t know. His face was glued to his phone and clearly, he wasn’t interested. I’m not sure how long it took him to notice my absence, but he deserved to be stiffed with the check.”

  “Again? Is this the face you greeted him with? Are you deliberately sabotaging your happiness?” Gracie grumbled. Before I could get a word of defense in, she asked, “Did you hear what happened to poor Lucy at the grocery store?”

  I was there earlier and heard nothing, but a flash of Fantasy Mikeal’s smiling face sent a bloom of heat through my chest. “No, what?”

  Using her hands, Gracie mimicked a building tipping over and crashing to the ground. “Dead, just like that. She was alone for years, poor miserable thing, and I don’t want that for you. Perhaps Kyle wasn’t the one, but there’s someone out there for you.”

  I dipped the next plate into the soapy water. “I’m not miserable, and I’m not alone. Newsflash, I’m washing our dishes, and you’re right beside me, unless I’m seeing ghosts. You’re not a ghost, right?” I jested.

  “Maggie, my dear, I’m not going to be around forever.”

  I dried my hands on a towel and turned to face my mom. I gripped her hands in mine. “I was kidding. I’m happy to be here for you for however long I still have you. Now stop with the doom-and-gloom, okay?”

  Her deep brown eyes sparkled with worry. “One day you’re going to be old like me, and I don’t want you to wallow in loneliness. You need to settle down before it’s too late.”

  I hugged my mom. We were two peas from very different pods. “I’ve been taking care of you all these years. That proves I’m capable of taking care of myself. Don’t worry about me. I promise I’m happy, and I will be happy no matter what happens.” The words rang hollow, but I smiled through them.

  Chapter 4

  Bad Idea

  My mother Gracie pulled back from my hug and flinched at the ache in her leg. I checked the time. She wasn't due for her next pain reliever for another half hour, but Gracie didn't complain. She was admirably strong, always had been, but stubborn as a mule too. And the older she got, the more she pestered me. We'd had this conversation so many times, but it never went anywhere but me agreeing to another blind date. At this point, I don't think anyone could be considered 'blind' anymore. There couldn't possibly be any single men left in this town that I hadn't gone on a date with. And I was done with all that, no matter her attempts at reasoning or begging.

  “I don’t believe you, and since I won’t be able to say, ‘I told you so’ from beyond the grave, I’m going to set you up right.”

  I swallowed back an actual growl. Not again. “Please, don’t. Really, I don’t want any more blind dates, and would you quit talking about the grave? I love you, Mom. It stresses me out when you talk about dying all the time. You're fine.” That was a lie. The endless medications attested to it, but the stress and the love parts were true.

  “Fine. I have a plan that will solve all your troubles, and I promise no more talking about the grave, okay?”

  I cast her my patented side-eye and said, suspiciously, “Sure.”

  Gracie beamed, and with a wave of her fingers and a mumble of words, she cast a spell. Swirls of glowing magic spun over her open palm. A stack of papers appeared out of thin air. Gracie had claimed she couldn’t animate the mop to do her floor washing. I wasn’t sure if I believed that, but since she didn’t find satisfaction in watching me labor away, I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, I wasn’t born with the gene to practice magic, or I would’ve animated the mop myself. No, I got something else entirely—like I’d explained, two very different pods.

  Gracie’s excited smile lit up as she silently read the top page.

  “What’s that?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  “Maggie, you’ve rejected every man I’ve brought to you, and I think I found the pattern.”

  Great, psychoanalyzed by an elderly and biased woman. “You’re lucky you’re old and cute.”

  Gracie beamed. She meant well, but she never took a hint, even when it was bright, glowing, and beeping incessantly. “You need someone different than the cutie patooties I find at the store. You need a man who’s clever, quick, and playful, just like you, and I know just how to do it.”

  Gracie was crafty, and not in the needlepoint way. A lump formed high in my throat. By now, I was sure I’d rejected all of the eligible men in this town. “What are you up to this time?”

  “You’ll see.” With a flick of her wrist, the papers soared out the window like an old printing press, ready to be fixed to light posts, left on benches, and stuck to shop windows all over town.

  I groaned. That couldn’t be anything good. I didn’t know how else to discourage whatever nauseating matchmaking she planned this time. “These days we use the internet, Mom, so good luck with your papers. By the way, good job keeping your magic on the down-low. I’m going to bed.”

  Gracie smiled deviously, and I went to my room, already dreading the next man I had to shoo away.

  Unless it was Mikeal.

  Nah, he was a fantasy. I a
lready shooed him away.

  Chapter 5

  Rules

  Thunderous pounding on the door wrenched me from my fitful sleep. Pressing a hand against my throbbing forehead, I climbed out of bed and shuffled to the door, wishing for coffee before having to do adult things. I gazed through the peephole and blinked twice, trying to process what stood on our doorstep—a half a dozen men—differing in age, clothing, and attractiveness. Kyle was in the group, whom I’d previously ditched. I couldn’t figure out what these men had in common.

  While I watched, they conversed with each other. Some roughhoused a little. A pair puffed their peacock feathers at each other in a show of dominance, reminding me of a family gathering, except these people weren’t related.

  “Mom, get out here,” I called across our small house.

  Gracie limped over to the door and groaned softly. I steadied her on her tiptoes, and she peeked through. A grin spread her lips. “Oh, they’re here already.”

  “They? Who’s they? What did you do, Mom? What was on those papers?”

  Gracie patted my arm, a youthful glint in her eye. “A game to win your heart.”

  Here we go again. “I don’t want any games. I don’t want any matchmaking or blind dates. And Kyle is out there.”

  “This is precisely what you need. Trust me.”

  I snorted. “Actually, what I need is coffee and breakfast. So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to make us coffee while you tell all those guys out there to go home because whatever crazy game you advertised is off. After this mess goes away, I’ll go pick up some breakfast.” I shuffled to the kitchen and opened the upper cabinet door. Coffee aroma filled my nose, perking me up just a little. I grabbed the jug of coffee grounds.