I drew in a deep breath. “There is nothing that smells better than coffee after a bad night.” He shrugged. Something in the set of his shoulders activated my maternal alert system. My heart sped up, my breathing quickened, my stomach clenched. “Mom, we need to talk.” “What’s wrong?” I walked over to stand beside him, busily fighting off thoughts about Christian and Trinity having a baby, Christian and Trinity getting married, Christian dropping out of school to become a day laborer. Mama’s training was hard to shake. “For God’s sake, what were you thinking?” He put his hands on his hips. I looked down at myself to make sure I wasn’t dressed in some hideous rag that would cause him deep shame or even prompt him to disown me. Nope, my usual ratty robe with coffee stains on the front. If he was going to object to that, the time was long past. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Ghost tours, Mom? I knew you hated your job, but ghost tours? And moving into a B&B?
