Bled & Breakfast Read Online Free

with fresh interest. “Now,
you
can stay. You should come find me at Mulligan’s later. I’d be happy to get to know you better, handsome.”
    Thierry crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her silently. He wasn’t exactly the type to throw out a snarky retort. His displeased glower, however, spoke volumes.
    Her expression soured. “Whatever.”
    Then she gave him—and the rest of us—the finger before moving on down the sidewalk.
    I turned to Heather, who looked pale and unhappy. “So . . . she seems nice.”
    She gave me a weak grin. “Ignore her. She’s been like that since high school. Thought ten years would change her. Guess what?”
    “It didn’t?”
    “Nope.”
    We followed Heather into the warm and well-furnished interior of the Booberry Inn. She still seemed shaken, but I had to give her credit for trying to pull herself together and appear professional. She moved to a small antique wooden desk in an adjoining room and sat down behind it.
    Uneasily, I followed, moving out of the way of the mirror on the wall near the entrance. One myth about vampires that was true—no reflections. Don’t even get me started on how inconvenient it was. Just don’t.
    Heather pulled out a leather-bound ledger. “How long do you think you’ll be staying with us?”
    “Good question.” I looked at Thierry.
    “Let’s say three days for now,” he said. “It might be more depending on how things go.”
    She nodded and scribbled the information down.
    “Is there somebody here?” An old woman appeared at the room entrance. She was small but round, with white hair in that neat style that looked as if she’d had the same hairdo since the 1950s. She wore a purple jogging suit, white socks, and black sandals. “Oh my, there
is
somebody here. How lovely.”
    Heather’s smile was back. “Grandma, we have guests. Sarah, Thierry, this is my grandmother Rose McKinley.”
    She shuffled forward, giving us a big grin. “Wonderful. As I always say, vampires are more than welcome at the Booberry Inn.”
    My hand froze in midextension toward her. “Excuse me?”
    She frowned. “You
are
a vampire, aren’t you?”
    Owen laughed, breaking through my knee-jerk reaction of horror at someone discovering our little secret. “It’s okay. Heather and Rose know about me. Rose assumes anyone I introduce to them lately is also a vampire, which is sometimes true, sometimes not. Rose, this is Sarah and Thierry.”
    “Oh, I’m very sorry.” Rose pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Am I wrong? Is it rude to assume these things?”
    “Not at all,” Thierry said. “You’re very insightful, Rose. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
    She glowed. “You too. Don’t worry—I like vampires. I remember Bela Lugosi as Dracula. You are much better-looking than he was.”
    “I . . . appreciate that, Rose.”
    Call me crazy, but I think the old lady was flirting with my husband. It was kind of sweet.
    Kind of.
    Heather’s eyes had widened a little as she processed this new info. “Okay, then.” She jotted something down in her ledger. “In that case, I’ll put you in the Batberry Suite. It has some special features, including extra-thick blinds.”
    Batberry?
“You have a special suite for vampires?”
    “I like to cater to my guests. Whoever they may be.”
    “So you’re not freaked out at the possibility that . . . you know. We are?”
    Her initial surprise had faded and her friendly look returned. “I’ve known Owen long enough to realize that vampires aren’t the stuff of nightmares.”
    Right. And by the look on her face, I was guessing that she thought Owen was the Edward to her Bella—and I didn’t mean Lugosi. The drama outside with Miranda calling Owen out as a cheater hadn’t seemed to diminish her crush in the slightest.
    “There’s a toad on your desk,” Thierry said to Heather.
    I glanced over, surprised to see he was right. A small brown toad sat next to the register. Since it had been so still,