My gaze shifts over to the mammoth evergreen christened as the town’s holiday tree, and sure enough, I spot Shepherd Wexler talking to Opal, Regina, and an older man in a long black coat.
Regina Valentine is the token mean girl of Starry Falls, and as much as I want to dislike her for the general misery she’s already caused me, if she was any nicer, I probably wouldn’t have been able to stay in this state, let alone this town. It was Regina’s temper that got her fired from the Manor Café the very same day I rolled into it. And Opal promptly gave me her position. Opal also helped me land a roof over my head by asking Shep to rent the cabin directly behind his to yours truly.
Shep.
I give a dreamy sigh as I look his way.
Shepherd Wexler is a tall wall of muscles who just so happens to pound out a best-selling novel every year or so. And on top of being a number one thriller author, he’s recently gone back to work as a homicide detective in the next town over, Woodley. We started making out a few months ago, and our greedy lips have never looked back.
“Who cares if he’s talking to Regina?” I shrug it off. “Shep and I are solid.”
Tilly gasps. “That means you’ve done the deed? Congratulations, Bowie. And here I thought you’d hold out on him forever.” She quickly pours a shot of whiskey and sets it in front of me.
“No thanks, I really shouldn’t.” I’m not a big drinker. Actually, I stay as far away as I can from anything harder than the caffeine in my coffee. Let’s just say it takes my supernatural abilities and supersizes them to frightening extremes—think active hallucinations meet wildest fears.
Stephanie laughs. “What my sister means, Tilly, is that she didn’t earn it—you know, in the carnal sense.” She takes the cup and downs the contents before letting out a hair-raising howl. “Bowie? Why don’t you pull Shep into the nearest bush and give him an early Christmas present?”
“Would you hush?” I swat her. “This is a family show in the event you haven’t noticed.” I nod to the throng of bodies bobbing up and down the snowy-lined road before us. All of Main Street is festooned with garland and white lights. Giant candy apple red bows dot each streetlamp and people dressed as Dickens characters stroll around from business to business singing Christmas carols at top volume. It’s equal parts adorable and grating. But then, that’s been my take on Christmas carols whether or not I’m witnessing a live action spectacle for as long as I can remember.
“Shep and I are taking it slow,” I say, giving Pixie a quick scratch between her ears, and she rewards me by way of purring like a jet engine. Pixie just so happens to be the cat I share with Shep. She’s more or less our fur-child.
“What? Slow?” Stephanie is quick to balk at my prudent behavior. Some things never change. Not that I’ve always been prudent. “You’re like fifty,” she points out. “You better get a move on if you want to start shooting out adorable stud muffin puppies. You’re going to want a solid litter, if not two. A man like Shep is destined to have beautiful babies. Don’t worry, Bowie. Your genetic contributions can be fixed by way of extensive plastic surgery.”
“I’m like twenty-seven,” I’m quick to inform her. “And I’m not in a hurry to produce a furry little litter. By the way, we have the same genetic makeup. If you insult me, you’re insulting yourself. Besides, Shep and I aren’t diving into the deep end together just yet. We’re sort of wading in.”
Tilly grunts. “This is Shep we’re talking about. You should totally dive into the deep end.”
“Yeah.” Stephanie slings an arm across Tilly’s shoulders in a show of camaraderie. “Have all the puppies you want. Heck, if you trap him, he might even make an honest woman out of you.”
“I’m not trapping a man, Lola,” I’m right back to hissing at her.
Besides, I can’t marry Shep. He’s a man of the badge. And he’s a best-selling author. I’m a felon on the run. I could take down both of his careers in a single bound.
Stephanie looks to Tilly. “She’s always been a slacker.”
“I am not a slacker.” I swat her. “The old me would have bagged and tagged Shepherd Wexler a long time ago. The new me has her feet set on the straight and narrow.”
Tilly knows about the fact I have visions every now and again that allow me to catch a sneak peek into the future, but she has no idea that I’m a wanted felon. Opal knows all about my supernatural secret, too. Ironically, Shep doesn’t have a clue about my visionary standing, but a few months back he suspected I was keeping another whopper from him. He already decoded the fact that I’m parading around with a fake identity. He knows all about my real name and history, and strangely he seems to have made peace with it. But I’ve been shy to tell him about my prognosticating predicament, partially because I’m terrified he’ll decide to take his mouthwatering kisses roadshow elsewhere. It’s not an easy thing to hear.
I take a deep breath as I look to my sister. “And it’s not nice to call people slackers. You should really work on building women up instead of tearing them down.”
She chokes and sputters. “What? I’ll have you know I’ve been building women up and slapping down men for years.” Something catches her eye to the right, and her jaw unhinges. “That’s them.” She’s nudges me with her elbow. “See those two hot men with the Santa hats? I had a vision of the two of them while I was plating the anise cookies this afternoon.”
Stephanie has the gift, too. Ever since we were little girls we’ve had what my Nana Rose liked to call the
