every opportunity to rub in the fact that he’d played the matchmaker in their love story. “Aren’t you glad I made her buy you at the auction?” Aaron asked.
“Yeah, yeah.” Janson pretended to be annoyed, but Mollie knew the truth. They both were eternally grateful for Aaron’s heavy-handed joke. Janson took Mollie’s hand in his. “I owe you a million. Maybe someday I’ll pay you back.” That came out more like a threat, and Janson allowed it to stay ambiguous with a lift of his brow.
He turned that into a smile for Mollie and squeezed her hand before they escaped the festivities to head back home. Janson still threw an occasional party at his Mountain Cove retreat, but their hearts belonged to the place where they’d first fallen in love—the old stuffed bear building. They’d bought it out and Mollie’s friend, Viola, remodeled it to look a little more Victorian, with new brick siding, elaborate steel railings, and gothic detailed windows. A gray mansard roof melted over the top floor and provided a foil for the rest of the brick building with accents of color. Mercifully, Viola had adamantly refused to allow the builders to touch the original Blocksom and Co. Undertakers and Embalmers sign painted by the original owners. Janson and Mollie’s home was the perfect blend of the old with the new, and exactly where Mollie wanted to raise her family.
Their footsteps echoed over the empty street. They didn’t have long before the parade was unleashed onto Spring Street after the pre-show. Mollie hurried to keep up with Janson’s long strides, though an evil clown easily lapped them on his way to join the parade. “Finn.” She immediately recognized him under his red painted grimace and nodded politely.
The old man scowled. “Stay out of my pond,” he snapped.
“Yes sir,” Janson responded with a laugh mingled with begrudging respect. He’d learned last year not to mess with Old Man Finn.
They reached the storefront of their shop, Eureka’s Bling Bling. Historical downtown was a little sparse on trees in the commercial area, and so Mollie had hung her favorite greenery from net baskets. Janson pushed past the ones dripping down from the windows to get inside the quaint vintage shop where they sold Mollie’s antique findings and Janson’s Eureka Healing Water like the snake oil salesman that he was. Janson had resigned from his father’s business, and though his shares set him up for life, he didn’t want that kind of life—he only wanted a life with his new wife. He opened the door for her, nodding at the saleslady at the front desk as he bustled Mollie in as if their lives depended on escaping the zombies on time, and not a moment too soon. Music blasted through the street, signaling the parade was on.
“How was the show, Mr. and Mrs. Styles?” Amy called out to them from the register.
“It was a toss-up between déjà vu and psychological torture,” Mollie answered. “We had to leave early.” She slipped into the back where Janson unlocked the door going up to their cozy apartment upstairs.
He gave her a mischievous grin. “Now, how were you planning on making it up to me?”
“Maybe I could make your favorite stew?”
Janson was already shaking his head. “I had something different in mind.” He reached for her and she let out a shrieking laugh and swung around, making him chase her up the stairs. He caught her at the top of them and pulled her the rest of the way into the spacious living room. They’d knocked out the next floor above it and opened up the sitting area for cathedral ceilings, as per Janson’s instructions, who didn’t like anything too cramped.
“Oh, I see,” Mollie said. “You wanted to work on the garden upstairs?”
His eyelids lowered heavily over his smoldering expression. “How’d you guess?”
Mollie twisted from Janson, but caught one of his fingers and led him up the winding grand staircase above the kitchen. They’d still kept a portion of the top floor that held an office, bedrooms, and of course, the greenhouse. Though neither of them had had particularly amazing green thumbs before this, they’d worked overtime to create a vibrant life of lush greenery atop the city.
She handed him the water canister. He reached for it, placing his hand over hers so she couldn’t escape him. He pulled her close and set the canister behind her, holding her securely to him. She giggled, loving his teasing. She ran her fingers through his hair—it was