Yet, there was something—something unexplainable, undeniable—compelling him to play along. If he’d lost memory of this gorgeous woman’s existence, what would be the harm in trying to get it back?
Because this Calla sure was pretty, and he had a lot of respect for Ezra, who appeared to really love his granddaughter. He rubbed the spot on his jaw where Ezra had clocked him harder than he’d given someone his age credit for.
According to everyone, they’d been in love, and on the fast track to something more. If Calla really was “the one”, how could he miss an opportunity to find out?
As she rose from her haunches where she’d been trying to help Daphne with Fate, she wiped her hands on the thighs of her jeans and looked to Ezra and Twyla Faye. “Will you stay with everyone at the center today, Gramps? Tonight’s my late night—we don’t close until eleven. You can’t nap.”
Her grandfather nodded his white head. “’Course I will. I’ll do whatever makes you smile again.”
“Twyla Faye? Can I count on you to be sure Gramps doesn’t fall asleep?”
“You can always count on me, Sugarlips.”
Calla nodded and then she looked at him dead-on. “Are you game to try this?”
His stomach tightened and his heart picked up some road rash when she gazed at him with those wide blue eyes fringed with thick lashes.
Rolling his shoulders, he decided he was more than game. “Game on.”
“No, it wasn’t there,” Kirby insisted, a frown in place. “I remember exactly the moment Nash walked in to pick up Mr. Swanson for his son’s surprise birthday party, and I remember the exact moment he saw Calla again for the first time since she’d spent her summers here. Mr. Swanson was sitting over in the Hocus Focus corner with Renee, doing his memory cards.”
“Was I? Can’t remember a damn thing,” Mr. Swanson joked.
Renee, another of the witches in Winnie’s rehab who’d worked for Calla almost from the opening of Hallow Moon, popped her bubble gum and shook her blonde head. “Uh, no. I’m pretty sure you need to spend some time with me in the Hocus Focus corner, because your memory sucks ass, Kirby. I remember the second Nash walked in to pick up Mr. Swanson because he smelled lickable—all manly and expensive cologne-ish. I’m very sensitive to smell; it stirs up all sorts of emotions for me. Sexual attraction being one of them.”
Oh dear.
Greta, hand firmly on her whistle, glowered at the two witches. “Renee? Put your libido away this instant, miss. No sexual attraction while on parole. Not one goose bump. Now, I need both of you to focus and your bickering isn’t helping.”
Renee huffed, twirling a lock of her long blonde hair around her forefinger. “I’m telling you, Mr. Swanson wasn’t in the Hocus Focus corner with me when Nash first saw Calla. Mr. Swanson was clobbering Gus at checkers in the game room. Know how I remember that?”
She was almost afraid to ask, but for the sake of Nash’s memory, Calla plowed ahead. “How do you know, Renee?”
“Because I watched his sweet, sweet ass in those tight jeans saunter past me and down the hall to the game room just as he passed Calla at the front desk. That’s how. #Hashtagsmokinhot.”
“You’re disgusting! How could you betray Calla like that?” Kirby hissed, her hands clenched at her sides.
Renee rolled her head on her neck, pushing her face into Kirby’s. “I didn’t betray her. That’s a pretty heavy word you’re using there. If I’m betraying her by looking at his ass, then I betray her every single day. I look at his ass all the time, doesn’t mean I cranked him. Back up, nutball.”
Greta pushed her way between the two women, her stern parole-officer face in place. “Both of you knock it off, or I’ll turn the shower timers down two minutes apiece for each of you back at the house. Understood?”
“Two minutes? I barely have enough time to rinse my hair. No wonder Winnie calls you Bitch In Charge,” Renee said on a pout.
Nash finally spoke after a long period of watching what was playing out before him. “You have to take timed showers?”
Calla rasped a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Is that all you gleaned from that conversation?”
He smiled devilishly, like the old Nash, and jammed his hands into the pockets of the tight jeans in question. “Well, that and I have nice cologne.”
Greta pointed her finger toward the exit door and shooed Renee out. “Enough. Go back to the house now or you’ll really find out why I’m the Bitch In Charge.”
Calla reached for her friend’s arm. “Please, Greta. Everyone’s on edge right now. Don’t punish them because of the tension this has peppered our tempers with.”
Renee held up a hand. “It’s okay, Calla. I was on my way out anyway. Shift’s over.” She shot Calla a sympathetic smile. “Listen, I hope everything works out and he gets his memory back. But if he doesn’t, are you gonna hate should I pursue his deliciousness?”
Greta blew her whistle, making everyone at the center wince. “Out!”