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  Wicked Whimsy

  An Ivy Morgan Mystery Book 11

  Lily Harper Hart

  HarperHart Publications

  Copyright © 2018 by Lily Harper Hart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  11. Eleven

  12. Twelve

  13. Thirteen

  14. Fourteen

  15. Fifteen

  16. Sixteen

  17. Seventeen

  18. Eighteen

  19. Nineteen

  20. Twenty

  Mail List

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Lily Harper Hart

  One

  What are you doing again?”

  Jack Harker stood next to his truck, a travel mug of coffee clutched in his hand, and stared at his fiancée Ivy Morgan with a look of confusion and resignation. He wasn’t exactly a morning person – neither was Ivy, for that matter – but the fact that she was up at the crack of dawn and appeared to be preparing to spend the entire day in the woods was enough to throw him for a loop.

  For her part, Ivy could do nothing but roll her eyes. She was used to Jack’s exaggerated grumpiness in the morning. She not only accepted it but often reveled in it because, to her, it proved how well suited they were for one another. She liked to be grumpy before ten, too. Mornings weren’t meant to be enjoyed, after all. There was one lone exception to that rule.

  “I’m spending the day morel hunting with Max,” Ivy replied without hesitation. “I told you this last night.”

  The only thing Jack could remember about the previous evening was that Ivy chose to serve him dinner in bed … while naked. Everything other than that flew out the window as they enjoyed each other’s company, and a blessedly quiet house.

  “Fine. You’re going morel hunting.” Jack used his free hand to play with a strand of Ivy’s pink-streaked hair. When he first met her a year before – almost exactly a year before actually – he found her hair weird and yet beguiling. Now he found everything about the woman he loved more than life itself beguiling. The hair was simply part of her. “Why do you feel the need to tell me this, though? You’ve been morel hunting every day for the past week.”

  “Well, I thought we were getting married,” Ivy started, causing Jack to furrow his brow.

  “We are getting married,” Jack interjected. “Don’t even try to get out of it.”

  “I don’t want to get out of it.” Ivy’s smile was whimsical. “Although, speaking of that, we should probably pick a date so I can get my mother and aunt off my back. They’re convinced we have a lot of planning to do and can’t even start until we pick a date.”

  “Fine. Let’s get married tomorrow.”

  Ivy’s grin turned wicked. “You just want an immediate honeymoon.”

  “I’m fine pretending we’re on a honeymoon,” Jack countered. “I simply can’t wait to call you ‘my wife’ and point out to everyone I meet that I snagged the prettiest woman in all the land.”

  Despite herself, Ivy was a little charmed. “You’re smooth.”

  “I do my best.” Jack pressed a tiny kiss to the tip of her nose. “As for setting a date, I don’t care. Pick what you want. Sooner works better for me, but it’s up to you.”

  Ivy narrowed her sea-blue eyes. “I don’t think it’s supposed to work that way.”

  “I’m easy.”

  “I already know that.” Ivy poked his side and did a little hip-wiggling dance to let him know she was teasing. “I think we should sit down and pick a day. I … please?”

  Jack couldn’t deny her so he simply nodded. “Tonight. We’ll do it over dinner. How does that sound?”

  Ivy was secretly relieved he gave in so easily. She wasn’t keen on picking a date without backup. She was convinced she would pick the wrong date and then things would officially fall apart and it would all be her fault. She needed support, even if it was only of the emotional variety. “Thank you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Jack tapped his cheek to prod Ivy into giving him a kiss in thanks.

  Ivy rolled her eyes, although it was only for form’s sake, and slid closer so she could do just that. Jack took her by surprise when he left his travel mug on the hood of his truck and wrapped both of his arms around her slim waist, smacking a loud and playful kiss against her mouth as he dipped her low.

  “You’re being a goofball,” Ivy laughed, giggling harder as he moved his lips to her neck and made obnoxious chewing noises. “I think you might be the king of goofballs.”

  “Only around you.” Jack gave her another kiss before righting her. His eyes were filled with mirth but there was a serious edge to his expression when he looked her up and down. “Now tell me what you’re doing with the rest of your day again. I’m not sure I was listening when you started.”

  Ivy heaved out a sigh. “I’m going morel hunting with Max. I told you already, but I wanted to remind you in case you come back for lunch and I’m not here. I know how you worry.”

  “That’s what happens when you love someone.” Jack pursed his lips as he ran the scenario through his head. While Max Morgan wasn’t always the most mature man in the room, as Ivy’s brother, Jack knew he would sacrifice his life to keep his sister safe. That was Max’s best trait in Jack’s book. “How long are you guys planning on hanging out in the woods?”

  “We’re making a day of it.”

  Jack ran a hand through his dark hair as he regarded her. “What about your nursery?”

  Ivy’s main way of supporting herself was a well-regarded plant nursery located just through the woods on the other side of the property where they stood. Winter was her dead time in the business, but spring was a busy time and she’d been spending hours doing laborious work in her greenhouse to prepare.

  “I got ahead,” Ivy replied. “I’ve been planning for this day for weeks.”

  Jack knew better than to make a big deal out of Ivy’s need to hunt for mushrooms that he, unfortunately, believed tasted like gritty wet sponges. She loved the stupid things and they were only available in northern Lower Michigan for a limited time each year. Still, since she often found trouble when traipsing through the woods, he couldn’t allow her to leave without issuing a warning.

  “Fine.” He gave her an adoring smile. “Have fun mushroom hunting with your brother.”

  “I wasn’t asking your permission.” Ivy was matter of fact as she squared her shoulders. “I was simply telling you where I would be.”

  “I should have seen that coming.” Jack chuckled dryly as he shook his head. “Please try to be back before dark. I will definitely worry if you’re still out there after dark.”

  “I’ll be back before dark.” Ivy rolled to the balls of her feet and pressed a kiss to the corner of Jack’s mouth. “I’m going to make cream of morel soup for dinner tonight.”

  Jack managed to keep his expression neutral, but just barely. “That sounds … great.”

  Ivy stared at him for a long beat. She wanted to drag out his torture for as long as she could manage, but he was so earnest sometimes, so determined to please her, that she couldn’t bring herself to be mean. “I’m making two batches of the soup. A big one for me to freeze so I can have morel soup all year and a smaller batch with regular mushroo
ms for you.”

  “And that’s why I love you.” Jack gave her another kiss and grinned. “By the way … I love you more than anything.” His voice was barely a whisper against the ridge of her ear, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. “I’ll romance your socks off later.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” Ivy pulled back and watched him open the truck door. “You be good today. Safe.”

  Jack was a police officer, although Shadow Lake wasn’t exactly known as a hotbed of crime. Still, Ivy occasionally worried about him. That was nothing compared to the worry Jack felt when Ivy found trouble.

  “You’re the one who needs to stay safe,” Jack countered. “If you could refrain from finding trouble in the woods today, that would be great.”

  Ivy snorted, genuinely amused. “I promise.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  “I SAY WE MAKE a competition out of it.”

  An hour later, Max Morgan led the way into the woods. He clutched an old pillowcase in his hand and added a bit of spring to his step as he studied the ground.

  “You want to make a competition out of what?” Ivy asked, following her brother’s lead and staring at the base of a nearby tree.

  “Morel hunting,” Max replied. “Whoever finds the most mushrooms should win something.”

  Ivy pulled up short and slowly shifted her gaze to her brother’s face. “What do you think you should win?”

  “I’m thinking you should make me a chocolate cake.” Max’s grin was mischievous. “That one you know I like … with the sprinkles.”

  Ivy made a dismissive sound in the back of her throat. “And why would I want to do that? I’m already making cream of morel soup to freeze for the entire family. That should be gift enough.”

  “I want cake, too.”

  “And what about if I win?” Ivy challenged. “What are you going to do for me if I win?”

  “You won’t win.”

  Ivy blinked hard. “Excuse me?” She was used to her brother’s out-of-control ego, but she wasn’t expecting this. “I’m just as good at finding morels as you are. In fact, I’m better.”

  “You’re cute.” Max beamed at her, the look of an older brother who adored his younger sibling. “You’re also dreaming.”

  Ivy scowled. She was competitive by nature and she couldn’t help it that Max’s words juiced up her need to succeed. “Oh, it’s on.”

  Max smirked at his sister’s back as she focused her attention on a group of trees and sprinted in that direction. He loved Ivy’s competitive spirit. He fostered it in her when she was younger because he often worried she spent too much time trapped in her head. The fact that he enjoyed competing with her as much as she enjoyed competing with him was merely a side benefit. “It’s definitely on.”

  The duo fell into an amiable silence as they spent the next few minutes collecting mushrooms. They didn’t need to talk to spend time together. Still, Ivy was more comfortable with the silence than Max and eventually he felt the need to fill in the gaps.

  “Have you heard from Harper?”

  The question caught Ivy off guard. Harper Harlow, ghost hunter extraordinaire and one of the only females Ivy had ever felt truly bonded with, lived in southeastern Michigan. She visited Shadow Lake almost a week before – only leaving five days ago – and helped solve a rather intriguing mystery with Ivy at her side.

  Since Ivy was quickly coming to the realization that she might just be a witch – she wasn’t happy with the label, but it seemed to be the one that best fit the things she could do – she and Harper bonded from practically the moment they met. Harper could see and talk to ghosts. Ivy had a special psychic streak and had talked to a few ghosts throughout the years, too. The two women were both snarky and strong. Harper’s best friend Zander teased they were like two peas in a pod, although that’s exactly how Ivy felt. From the moment she met the gregarious blonde, something simply clicked between them.

  “She called yesterday,” Ivy replied as she used a stick to poke at some fallen leaves. “She says they’re working on a case that is giving her a headache – and that Zander always gives her a headache, so things are doubly bad – but everything else is good.”

  Max paused long enough to give his sister a searching look. “How many times have you talked to her since she left?”

  Ivy recognized the tone and balked. “What does that matter?”

  “How many times?” Max pressed.

  “Once or twice.” Ivy was purposely evasive as she leaned over to pluck a small group of morels from the ground. “It’s not a big deal. I wish you guys would stop treating it like a big deal.”

  “It is a big deal,” Max countered, refusing to back down. “You don’t usually like women. In fact, you hate most of the ones you’ve come into contact with.”

  “That’s usually because they hate me first,” Ivy pointed out. “I don’t hate people for no reason.”

  “That’s very true.” Max adopted a reasonable tone. “You wait until you’re hated before hating back. That’s very mature of you.”

  “Ugh. I hate it when you do this.” Ivy moved to another tree. “You’re trying to get me going, knock me off my game so you’ll win the competition. It’s not going to work. I won’t allow it to work.”

  Max feigned innocence. “Hey! I’m merely showing interest in my baby sister because I love her. I’m a good big brother.”

  Ivy didn’t buy that for a moment. “You’re trying to throw me off my game.”

  Max chuckled. “I’m not. I was honestly curious. I haven’t seen you in the past few days. I knew you were a little sad when Harper left so I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Ivy turned defensive. “Sad? Who said I was said?”

  Max saw no reason to lie. “Jack.”

  “Jack said I was sad?”

  “He might’ve mentioned that you seemed a little down,” Max clarified, recognizing his sister’s tone and quickly moving to repair what damage he could. “Don’t get all worked up about that, by the way. Jack is a good guy and he cares about you. He simply mentioned it to me when we talked.”

  “And when was that?”

  “About ten minutes before I arrived at your house.”

  Ivy did the math in her head. “That was after he said goodbye to me,” she mused, anger and amusement warring for supremacy in her busy mind. “I wonder why he called you. Did he really sound worried?”

  “No. The Harper stuff was just a side conversation. He wanted to talk to me about something else.”

  Ivy was officially intrigued. “And what was the something else?”

  If Max sensed a trap, he didn’t show it. Instead he happily walked through the open door and took the obvious bait. “He wanted me to make sure that you didn’t wander off and get into trouble. He says he doesn’t want to spend the day worrying about you if he doesn’t have to.”

  Ivy wasn’t sure what to make of the statement. “Why does he naturally assume I’ll find trouble?”

  Max snickered at his sister’s annoyed expression. “Oh, I wonder. Perhaps it’s because in the year since he’s met you he’s had to save you no less than ten times.”

  “That’s a vicious lie.” Ivy’s anger flared to life. “First off, I don’t ever need to be saved. I can save myself.”

  “Yes, you’re a self-rescuing princess,” Max drawled. “You always have been.”

  “Secondly, I’ve saved him as many times as he has saved me,” Ivy continued, as if her brother hadn’t said a word. “He’s barely had to save me at all. It only happened once in fact … er, maybe twice.”

  Max cocked a challenging eyebrow and remained silent.

  “Three times at the most,” Ivy persisted. “He’s totally exaggerating.”

  “That’s neither here nor there,” Max said after a beat, licking his lips. “He merely wanted to make sure that I kept an eye on you. He doesn’t want you finding trouble.”

  “I never find trouble.” Ivy was annoyed but
that didn’t stop her from keeping her head in the game. “Ha!” She darted toward a large tree, which had a regular cornucopia of morels poking out from beneath a bunch of leaves around the base. “Mine! I claim all of these as mine.”

  Max scowled when he caught sight of the rich haul. “I should spend more time looking for mushrooms and less looking out for you.”

  “I agree,” Ivy concurred, bobbing her head as she happily shoved mushrooms in her pillowcase. “You should definitely focus on the mushrooms. I’m going to kick the crap out of you otherwise. In fact … .” She trailed off when the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

  Her gaze was slow as she let it bounce around the immediate area, her back going stiff. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and yet she felt as if something big was about to happen. Whatever that something was, Ivy instinctively knew Jack wouldn’t like it.

  “Max.”

  For his part, Max was focused on the ground rather than his sister. “If you think I’m going to let you win, you have another think coming. I won’t let you distract me any more than you’ll let me distract you. This is a competition, after all. May the best Morgan win.”

  Ivy licked her lips as her heart rate increased. She could sense trouble coming, although she had no idea from which direction.

  “Max.”

  “Don’t try to distract me.” Max haphazardly waved his hand without looking at Ivy’s face. “It’s not going to work. Nothing is going to distract me from beating the pants off you.”

  As if on cue, the bushes to the left of them exploded as a boy ran through them, tripping over his own feet as he fell hard against the ground. Tears coursed down his cheeks, his clothing was snarled and ripped in several places, and he looked as if the world was about to end.