A Hilarious and Charming Feel-Good Read

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A Hilarious and Charming Feel-Good Read Page 7

by Saranna Dewylde


  “I wonder if your nudge had anything to do with the cherries?” Petty’s brow wrinkled with concern.

  “Oh no! Do you think it could have?”

  “If the spice was to amplify feelings—”

  “No, no! It doesn’t amplify anything. It doesn’t make those feelings any stronger, it just makes them present. For instance, if you’d locked away an emotion, it’s a key for the lock. That’s all,” Bluebonnet swore.

  “Maybe let us in on it next time? I invited Roderick, Gwen, and the kids to dinner tonight and that might’ve been a disaster if they’d come,” Jonquil said.

  “It would’ve been interesting, that’s for sure,” Petty replied. “Is Roderick’s FG really on the injured list?”

  “Yes, and really, with everyone’s powers low, she’s having a hard time recovering.” Bluebonnet took a delicate sip of her soda.

  “Gwen doesn’t have one, but I think she needs our help anyway. No, she deserves our help. Her love for Lucky is true and steadfast. We should all be so . . . well, I was going to say lucky, but you know what I mean.” Petunia grinned.

  “Fine,” Jonquil agreed. “You’re right. Gwen is amazing. I saw in my crystal ball that Jeff, no . . . Jack . . . What’s his name?”

  “Jackass?” Bluebonnet supplied helpfully.

  “Yes, that one,” Petty nodded.

  “Oh! Jake. Yes, he’s awful. Gwen deserves better. But I think we should leave them alone. Jake is going to serve her with divorce papers. And before you ask me anything else, no, I don’t know any other details. The ball is foggy.”

  “Foggy balls!” Bluebonnet chortled.

  Petunia giggled.

  Jonquil wrinkled her nose. “You two are awful.” But she giggled. “Anyway, let’s do like we said and help Gwen get established here. She needs to find who she wants to be before we go mashing her up with Roderick.”

  “I’ll give you that one,” Petty said.

  “Oh, will you?’ Jonquil snorted. “I’m only right.”

  “Yes, yes, you’re right,” Bluebonnet agreed. “We need to have a chat with Gwen about baking the wedding cake, and Red and Grammy. Let’s go round them up!”

  “Nope, can’t. It’s a full moon, dear. Grammy is busy, as you well know,” Petty said.

  “Darn.”

  “And it’s late. Have you looked at the time?” Jonquil yawned.

  “It’s not even midnight.” But Petunia yawned. “I have to get these cherries prepped if we hope to use them. It would be a shame for them to go to waste.”

  “No, instead they’re going to go to waist.” Bluebonnet pointed at her midsection.

  “I have always held that if my wings can still carry me, I’m fine.” Jonquil fluttered up a few feet off the floor and then landed gracefully. “Still good. Bring on the cherry pastries!”

  “Speaking of our charges, has anyone heard from Juniper? How is her next book coming? Do we need to send the muses?” Petunia asked.

  “You just can’t stop meddling, can you?” Jonquil laughed as she said this, no real bite behind the words.

  Petty looked as if she were about to argue, but then laughed, too. “Nope, it’s just how I’m wired.”

  “She’s doing great,” Bluebonnet said. “Finishing up her next novel on a writing retreat with her friends in Ireland.”

  “How did I not know about Ireland?” Petty asked.

  Bluebonnet shrugged. “You know how absentminded she is, always living in other worlds. She usually tells one of us. That’s what matters.”

  “Too right.” Petty nodded.

  A sudden thump echoed from the upstairs and everyone’s eyes widened. They looked at each other in silence, each of them fighting hard not to laugh.

  Jonquil was the first to speak. “Stop it, the lot of you. Nothing untoward is going on up there. After the cherry tree, it wouldn’t.”

  “Explain the thump, then?” Petty demanded.

  “Shh!” Bluebonnet demanded.

  They were answered with another thump, then another.

  Bluebonnet and Petty giggled, but Petty was the first to compose herself.

  “I have cherries to see to.”

  Bluebonnet burst out with a full-bodied cackle. “I guess you do.”

  “Oh, stop.” Petty couldn’t contain another giggle. “This is serious work.”

  “You guys are actually the worst,” Jonquil said with a roll of her eyes.

  “Literally, even, as the kids say.” Bluebonnet cackled again.

  “Keep flapping that cake trap, Jonquil, and don’t just see if I decide to turn my powers on you,” Petty threatened.

  “Don’t you dare! I’m quite happy where I am.”

  “Obviously not.” Bluebonnet nodded slowly. “I think I agree, Pets. I think Jonquil should be our next project. Who were you thinking of?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Petty tapped her chin and three very long hairs uncurled and wrapped around her fingers. She gasped and zapped them with her wand. “Oh, now we’re playing dirty.”

  “You’ll get more of the same, Pets, if you try to use your fairy magic on me,” Jonquil growled.

  “You’d never know it, would you?”

  “I . . .” she began.

  “Sisters!” Bluebonnet hissed. “We should go to the shop. We do have work to do. After all, if things go like we’ve planned, Fairy Godmothers, Inc. is going to be busy as a fat bee.” She sniffed. “And let’s give the kids some privacy.”

  “You’re right, Bon-Bon. Just let me get my shawl.”

  “There’s a reason magic spells end at midnight. We’re old. We should be in bed. I’m missing my Midsomer Murders,” Jonquil grumped.

  “Pish. You’re not missing anything, you old bag. We’ve got a DVR.” Bluebonnet rolled her eyes. “But you stay here if you like and we’ll just plot without you.”

  Petty wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. “And you can’t complain when things aren’t being done as you’d like them.”

  “Fine, I’ll go. But I think I need another chocolate cherry ice cream soda.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Bluebonnet set about making another, but when another crash from upstairs echoed down to them, she used her magic to finish. “We should be off!”

  Lucky’s voice echoed down to them. “Don’t worry, Godmothers. We were just moving the furniture around.”

  “Hehehe. We weren’t worried,” Petty muttered.

  “That’s fine, dears. Do what you like. We’re running to the shop for some late-night strategy. See you in the morning!” Jonquil called out.

  “That’s the spirit, Jonquil!” Petty said approvingly.

  “Well, I do want them to be happy.” Jonquil tightened her own shawl.

  “Shall I walk you?” Ransom was on the stairs, and they could see he was wearing a T-shirt and pajama bottoms.

  “No, don’t trouble yourself, we’re fine. Ever After is virtually crime-free. We’re safe enough. Off to bed with you,” Petty said. Then she turned to her sisters. “Crank the heat high enough to roast a partridge.”

  Bluebonnet adjusted the modern thermostat and zapped a fire in the hearth that would heat the whole house.

  “Consider partridges roasted.” Bluebonnet grinned. “I’m so glad Petunia isn’t plotting my matchmaking.”

  “Who says I’m not?” Petunia grinned back.

  “If you’re plotting mine, I’ll give you more than just chin hairs. I’ll give you warts, too,” Jonquil promised.

  “Love is for everyone,” Petunia reiterated. “Even the three of us. Warts and all.”

  “We’ll just see about that.” Jonquil spun around and headed out into the night, with her sisters following hot on her heels.

  Chapter 7

  The attic room that was usually very comfortable had suddenly become an oven.

  Sweat slicked down her back and she desperately wanted another shower, but she was enjoying this time just talking with Ransom like they used to. Before everything went to crap.
/>   “Sounds like the godmothers have gone out for the night,” Ransom said from his bed.

  “That’s a terrifying thought. I can’t even imagine what kind of trouble they could get into at midnight in Ever After.”

  “I know, right?”

  “Maybe when we moved the couch around they had . . . ideas? I think they’re trying to give us some privacy.” Her face flushed from more than just the heat.

  “It feels like they cranked up the heat, too. Are you hot?”

  “I’m dying. Can you open a window?”

  Ransom got up and not only opened the window, but used all the cranks and pulleys that converted the window into a small balcony.

  “That’s fantastic.” Lucky rolled onto her back as the cool night air rushed inside the sweltering room. “I don’t know how you’re not dying.”

  “I’m used to the heat. Cacao doesn’t grow in cool places, you know?”

  “I assume you’re very hands-on.” She immediately thought about exactly where she wanted his hands on her body. Why had she done that to herself?

  “Yeah, I like to stay very involved from planting to harvesting. I’m responsible for my business, not just in what I produce, but how I produce it.”

  “What’s your favorite chocolate?” Lucky asked, trying to distract herself.

  “I’ve been experimenting with ruby chocolate. It’s this beautiful blush color and the taste is unlike anything else.” He went to his bag. “I actually brought you some, but it’s probably melted.”

  “Ransom, you know me. If it’s chocolate, I’ll lick it off the wrapper. I don’t care.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I know you. I actually thought of you when I decided to add ruby chocolate to Heart’s Desire’s offerings.”

  “You did?”

  “It was unique. Like you.”

  She snorted like a pig. “Nuh-uh.”

  No way had he been thinking about her. At least, not in any good way. How could he after everything that had happened? She was definitely sure he hadn’t made a business decision based on something that reminded him of her.

  “No, really.”

  He continued to rummage in the bag and pulled out a foil-wrapped shape that had once been a bar. As he held it up, it bowed to her, slumping over in his grasp.

  Ransom muttered an oath.

  “I don’t care. I’ll eat it anyway.”

  In that moment, she wanted it more than she’d ever wanted any other chocolate in her life. He’d thought of her. He’d brought it to her. That chocolate, that particular bar, it was going in her face one way or another.

  “It won’t be the same.” He held up his hand. “Look, it’s gross.”

  “Don’t care. I want it.”

  “You won’t get the right notes. It’ll be even worse if I put it in the refrigerator.” He held it up by the edge of the wrapper and chocolate oozed out over his fingers. Then he put it in his other hand and wrinkled his nose as he so obviously realized both hands were covered in ruby chocolate.

  Lucky got up on her knees and reached out for the chocolate. “You brought it all this way. Just give it to me.”

  “No.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “If you’ll recall, telling me no has never turned out well for you.”

  “Just this one time, trust me.” He put the chocolate back in his other hand and looked around the room, seemingly searching for a solution to the chocolate mess that wasn’t Lucky.

  “I do trust you, but not when it comes to chocolate.”

  He laughed. “Lucky. I’m considered an expert when it comes to chocolate.”

  “Not if you’re trying to keep it from me, you’re not. Maybe you are an expert in chocolate, but you’re lacking a certain set of survival instincts.”

  He laughed again. Lucky loved the sound of it. Deep and rich, just like his espresso dark chocolate tasted.

  Not that she’d been buying Heart’s Desire Chocolate since it hit the market. Not that at all. She loved the espresso dark chocolate, the bacon milk chocolate, and she had a peculiar love for the lemon ginger dark bars.

  “No, no. Seriously. Just wait. I’ll have some flown in.”

  Lucky wasn’t impressed. She didn’t want any flown in. She didn’t want a different bar. She wanted that one, that one that had currently smeared half of itself all over his fingers. “You just wait. You brought that one for me and I want that one.”

  “Well, you’re not getting it.” His tone of voice seemed to indicate that this was his final word on the matter.

  It wasn’t Lucky’s.

  She wasn’t sure if it was the cocky grin, or the confidence in his stance, or if it was simply that he told her no.

  But she wasn’t going to stand for it.

  Err . . . sit for it.

  No, instead she launched herself at him like a chocolate-seeking missile. She plowed into him, and he stumbled backward, falling onto the bed with her right on top of him. Lucky didn’t stop to think about their precarious position.

  Nope, she didn’t stop to consider she’d straddled him like a pony at Churchill Downs.

  Or that there was no chocolate left in the wrapper and everything worth tasting was all over his hands.

  Or that given her precarious position, she definitely shouldn’t have licked the blossom-pink chocolate from his fingers.

  Not in the least.

  Not until his finger was in her mouth, the chocolate was on her tongue, and she heard a faint moaning sound that had to be coming from her.

  The ruby chocolate was the best thing she’d ever tasted. It was like sour berries dusted with sugar with a chaser of white chocolate. The whole flavor palette was a journey in itself.

  “Luck-eee,” Ransom growled.

  Or maybe it was a groan, she wasn’t sure. She wanted to hear it again. So Lucky surrendered to the mad desire pounding in her head, her heart, and between her thighs and took a long, languorous lick of the chocolate, then sucked his finger inside of her mouth.

  It wasn’t about the chocolate anymore.

  Which was really saying something considering Lucky’s great and terrible love of all things cacao.

  His lounge pants did nothing to hide his reaction, and her own sleep shorts were useless as a barrier between them.

  He was hot and hard, and his body wanted her.

  Despite everything that had happened between them from the distant past to only a few moments ago, he still wanted her.

  The man was a glutton for punishment.

  Her lips fell apart, but he didn’t reclaim his finger.

  Instead, he just looked up at her, all intensity and heat.

  She imagined they looked pretty stupid, but even that thought didn’t break the spell that had woven itself around them.

  Lucky reached out a tentative hand to cup his cheek, but with the other pulled his hand away. “We absolutely can’t.”

  Even though she absolutely, desperately wanted to. She already wanted to taste more of that chocolate, more of the salt on his skin, and more of all things Ransom.

  Ransom nodded. “Absolutely, positively not.”

  Only his hands went to her hips and his fingertips burned into her skin, seared her to the bone. He brought her forward to center her even more intimately against him.

  She braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned her forehead down to touch his.

  “The chocolate was good. Thank you.”

  “It’ll be even better when you experience it as it’s meant to be experienced,” he whispered.

  Lucky’s breath caught in her throat and she tried to school her breathing, her thundering stampede of a heartbeat and her shaking hands. She exhaled with a delicate shudder.

  “Oh, I think this is the best way to experience chocolate. Don’t you?”

  He smelled so good, and the warmth of his skin under his T-shirt scalded her palms, grounded her in the reality of him.

  She wanted to rub her cheek against his, to feel the rough stubble of the day’s growt
h of beard, to mark him as her own. Lucky tried to push that thought out of her mind. He wasn’t hers and he couldn’t be, even though the here and now felt so good.

  Ransom tilted his chin up so the carved marble of his lips was only a breath away from her mouth.

  She couldn’t think.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  All she could do was feel.

  Even though a voice in the back of her head screamed for her to stop. Begged her not to test the fates like they had underneath the mutant cherry tree.

  Oh, would he taste like cherries?

  Or chocolate?

  Her lip quivered and she was lost. Lucky would’ve surrendered to what was between them if Ransom hadn’t whispered against her lips.

  “Kissing is out. Penetration is out. But there are more ways to bring this thing to fulfillment between us.”

  His hands slid down from her hips to cup her bottom and he thrust his own hips up to meet her.

  Desire was a supernova that incinerated her from the inside out.

  “Don’t you think we’re tempting fate,” she managed, breathless and wanting.

  “I don’t believe in fate. I believe in here. I believe in now. I believe in us.” He pulled her forward again. “I believe in this.”

  Lucky wanted this more than anything. The feel of him against her, the way his breath caught, too, when she shifted her hips, and most of all how he accepted that there were some things that they couldn’t do.

  He didn’t care.

  He wanted what they could have together.

  That was an aphrodisiac in itself.

  Except, she realized that maybe she was the one who couldn’t accept there were things they couldn’t do. This felt good, more than good, it was . . . but what it wasn’t was enough. Lucky wanted everything.

  His hands smeared the chocolate up under her shirt, and his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples. Each brush of his fingertips sent another jolt of need through her and she rolled her hips in time with his ministrations.

  “Maybe I can’t kiss your mouth, but maybe I can kiss other places.”

  She helped him peel her shirt off and gasped when he took her nipple in his mouth.

  Lucky decided this was the only other sanctioned and approved use for chocolate. Ransom Payne could lick it from wherever he liked.

 

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