Page 305 of The Defiant Curse

On that, he didn’t argue.

“Well, this one is legit. She told you things no one would know. So, can you maybe come down and talk to her? Without punching her in the face?"

Ethan laughed.

“I mean, that sounds like normal behavior to me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, we can. I’m still waiting to hear back from Tony regarding the comparison of bones, and I didn’t have much planned today except to keep trying to figure out this mystery.”

He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

“Thanks, Mom. We have to live here, and the less hostile it is, the better.”

She was aware.

It wasn’t like she’d been hostile.

She just wasn’t one to do cartwheels over the woo-woo. She believed in ghosts, and it tended to do battle with her religious beliefs.

That was the conundrum.

“We’ll be down. There is a price, though.”

He lifted a brow.

“What?”

“Coffee. I want a bucket full of coffee and something baked to go with it. A cookie. A muffin. A scone. Something. That’s on you and your love muffin. That’s the cost of me not bitch slapping a psychic.”

“Did I mention she’s a practitioner of the Pagan arts?”

She snorted.

“Of course, she is. A Scottish witch? Why the hell not?” she asked, rhetorically.

He winked at her.

As for breakfast…

“Graham already made you some baked goods. You are, if anything, predictable.”

Yes, yes, she was.

“I’m a whore for a pastry.”

When Ethan opened his mouth, she stared at him.

“I double dog dare you. Then, the only whore getting laid in this place will be Michael—by his husband.”

The man snorted.

It wasn’t like she was lying. He liked being the whore here. His husband was hot.

Sue him.

“We’ll be down,” she admitted.