by Lili Valente
Mina: That’s great, honey, but I’m talking about orgasms. Were there orgasms?
* * *
Violet: So many orgasms. An embarrassing number of orgasms. His body is just…magical, Mina. I can’t stop thinking about it. About his hands and his mouth and all his other parts… I’m sitting here at work, filling out mind-numbing order forms, and I can’t quit smiling.
* * *
Mina: A magic man. Damn, it’s been so long since I’ve had one of those.
* * *
Violet: I thought your last hot baby was the king of oral.
* * *
Mina: He was, but that was technical proficiency, not magic. Magic is a whole different animal.
* * *
Violet: That’s what I feel like with him. An animal. Just wild and free and completely unselfconscious. After so many years with the same man in my bed, and then no one at all in my bed, I thought the first time with someone new would feel strange, awkward. But it didn’t. Not even a little bit.
* * *
Mina: So how long until you see him again?
* * *
Violet: He mentioned grabbing a beer tonight, but we already spent Monday and Tuesday nights together, so maybe we should wait? Get a good night’s sleep first?
* * *
Mina: Are you insane? Of course you should wait. You don’t want to make it too easy for him, or he’ll lose interest.
* * *
Violet: Ack, forget that. I’m too old to play stupid dating games. I like being with him, and he likes being with me. Why not just go with it? If he loses interest because I’m honest about enjoying his company, then he isn’t the man I think he is and I won’t be into him anymore, anyway.
* * *
Mina: Wow. So you aren’t living in fear of losing access to the magic peen?
* * *
Violet: If he treats me badly, his peen won’t be magic anymore. It will lose its power. Meanness breaks the peen spell every time.
* * *
Mina: You’re so grounded in self-love, girl. A part of me wants to be like that.
* * *
Violet: LOL. And the other part?
* * *
Mina: It just wants to find a magic peen again, lock it in my basement, and never let it go.
* * *
Violet: Kidnapping is frowned upon in most dating circles, I hear.
* * *
Mina: Yeah. I’m trying to cut back. See you at Pilates later?
* * *
Violet: I can’t. I’ve got to get home and get dinner on the table early, feed Adriana, watch some mindless TV, and lure her into a false sense of security so she won’t be paying attention if I decide to sneak out the back door to meet Deacon later.
* * *
Mina: Why would you be sneaking out the back? She’s eighteen, Violet. She’s legally a full-grown person. She can feed herself. Better yet, have her make dinner for both of you while you’re getting ready for your date. She should be thrilled that you’re dating again, getting out there, living your life the way she’s living hers.
* * *
Violet: It’s cute that you think eighteen is full-grown. She’s still a baby. And yes, she can feed herself, but I like cooking for her. And I like keeping my private business private. If this thing with Deacon gets serious, then I’ll be open with my kids about it. But chances are it’s just a fling that will burn bright and fizzle out fast. No need to get the kids involved until there’s something to be involved in.
* * *
Mina: I hear you. And I get it. I guess. Though, I’m kind of glad I only have dogs to worry about. Though, they can get pretty territorial with unexpected visitors.
* * *
Violet: Nugget still humping your dates?
* * *
Mina: Every leg she can get her fluffy little paws around. It’s embarrassing, but a good litmus test, too. If a guy’s going to get angry at a tiny dust mop of a dog rubbing on his jeans, he’s not my kind of crazy.
* * *
Violet: I like that…my kind of crazy. We’re all crazy, aren’t we?
* * *
Mina: Pretty much. But Pilates helps me stay out of the nuthouse. Are you sure you won’t join me? I’m so much better at dragging my ass to the studio if I know someone is waiting there for me. I’ll buy veggie burgers for you and Adriana after…
* * *
Violet: Tempting. Let me think about it and get back to you. I’ve got to run. Duty calls.
* * *
Mina: Later! And congratulations again. So happy for you, Vi, and wishing you a long and happy frolic with your magical peen.
CHAPTER 17
VIOLET
M agical peen… Good grief.
Tossing my phone back into my purse, I duck my chin, hiding my flushed cheeks behind my hair as I assure Virginia, “Be right with you, Ginny.”
Mina is a mess, but this time around I’m in no position to judge. That magical peen and the man it’s attached to are all I can think about. I was hoping that sealing the deal with Deacon might help me recover some of my lost focus, but so far, not-so-good. If anything, I’m even more lust-drunk than I was yesterday.
I’m so out of it, Virginia had to snap her fingers in front of my face to get my attention. It’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous.
But so happy and buzzed from last night I can’t quit smiling.
“So what’s up now?” I ask, pushing my chair away from my desk.
Ginny motions for me to follow her. “Come on. You need to see.” I trail her down the hallway, past the dog and cat kennels to the door leading out to the paddocks and the brush on the other side.
The brush that an older man in a khaki jacket and giant glasses is studying with a serious expression…
“Who is that?” I ask, startled by the sudden appearance of a stranger on the premises. We have our share of drop-in visitors, but they usually come in through the front door.
“That’s the biologist the county sent over,” Ginny says, fingers worrying at the fringe hanging off the edge of her rainbow-colored vest. “He won’t talk to me, but maybe he’ll talk to you.”
“Why won’t he talk to you?” I ask as I start down the steps.
“Well, I’m not sure if he would or not. I didn’t try. I figured we should go in with the big guns first.”
I arch a brow at her over my shoulder. “I’m the big guns?”
“No, you’re the sex appeal,” Virginia says with a grin. “You’re practically glowing this morning, by the way. I’m guessing your date with Tristan’s big brother went okay.”
“Okay is a word you could use,” I say, fighting a grin and failing. “Explosive and mind-blowing and paradigm-shifting are also accurate.”
Ginny wrinkles her nose. “Sounds violent.”
I sigh. “A little, but in the very best way.”
“Makes me glad I’m off the shelf,” she says with a sniff. “Life is unpredictable enough without introducing paradigm shifts into the mix. None of that for me, thank you very much. It’s like when my mom saw her brother’s ghost.”
I skid to a stop by the paddock gate, turning to face her. “What?”
“My mom saw her brother’s ghost,” Ginny continues, as if the segue makes perfect sense. “But she wasn’t the type of person who saw ghosts. Not even close. She was rational, logical. She played by the rules, and ghosts popping up in her garage while she was cleaning out storage boxes wasn’t in her playbook. So she decided it didn’t happen.”
I squint at Ginny. “What? But it did happen, right? She really thinks she saw her brother’s ghost?”
“Yeah. She did. He even spoke to her—asked her if she was going to be okay. They were really close. Twins who basically raised each other after their mom died and their dad started drinking.”
I cock my head. “So, she saw and heard her twin brother. But she decided to believe that she didn’t?”
“That’s right. It would have been too much of a paradigm shift. So inst
ead of believing it happened, she decided it didn’t happen and went right on playing by her usual rules. And she lived a long and happy life until she died in her sleep last winter, just shy of her eighty-fifth birthday.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say, frown deepening.
“It’s all right. She was ready to go.”
I nod, my brow still furrowed. “I just… I’m not sure what to make of that story. I guess, personally, I’d rather let go of the rules. Make room for the magic.”
Ginny hugs her arms around her chest. “Magic is scary.”
“I guess it can be. But it’s also…”
“Magical?” Ginny supplies with a wry twist of her lips.
I laugh. “Yeah. That. And part of the reason we’re here? To find the magic in the midst of all the other stuff?”
“I’m a former geologist, Violet. The closest I get to believing in magic is popping open a geode, and those crystals inside are there because of science, not magic.”
“Well, Miss Science, that’s a good reason you should talk to our visitor. You can put your scientific heads together and figure out whatever needs to be figured out much faster than I ever could.”
“Oh no, I can’t.” Ginny shakes her head. “I’m not good with strangers.”
“He’s not a stranger, he’s a brother from another mother.” I hook my arm through hers, dragging her with me as I circle around the fence. “Scientists are your people, right? And I’m sure he’s just here to tell us what we already know. That the salamanders are living in the old ground squirrel burrows and that removing the brush will cause erosion and destroy their habitat.”
Virginia’s chin retracts into her neck and her lips purse into a tight rosette, transforming her usually attractive features into something much less pleasant to look at. “Smile,” I mutter through gritted teeth as we get closer to the man in the khaki vest. “He’s not the enemy.”
But Ginny doesn’t smile and the man—when he glances up to see us approaching—doesn’t smile, either. His eyes narrow, his shoulders roll back, and his chest puffs up as if he’s preparing for a full-frontal attack, not a meeting with two employees of a not-for-profit animal shelter.
“Hi!” I wave with my most welcoming grin. “We just wanted to come say hi, see if you needed anything. A bottle of water, cup of coffee?”
The man shakes his head, his humorless expression not budging. “No thank you.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “It’s no trouble at all. We’re so glad you’re here. Especially Ginny. She’s the one who discovered the salamander colony last year.”
The man’s bushy gray brows lift as his focus shifts Ginny’s way. “You classified the species? Do you have a background in herpetology?”
Ginny stands up straighter. “No, I’m a geologist. Former geologist, but I’m very familiar with the native flora and fauna. I’ve lived in Sonoma County all my life.”
“I’m from San Diego,” the man says, nodding. “But amphibians are my specialty. The state calls me in for almost all frog and salamander-related issues.”
“It’s nice that they have a specialist on call,” Ginny says. “Unexpected, but nice.”
The man makes a coughing sound. “Right? They finally realized that a garden-variety biologist isn’t going to know a True Toad from an American Spadefoot.”
Ginny visibly perks up, and I press my lips together, fighting a smile. Oh yeah, these two are going to get along like a house on fire. Heck, they might even find a little magic if they can get out of their own way.
But first, to get myself out of the way…
I smack my hand to my forehead with a sigh. “Oh no, I forgot to get the meds out this morning, and its time for the puppies’ worm medicine.” I touch a hand to Ginny’s elbow. “Can you take over with…” I turn back to the herpetologist. “I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Dr. Bartholomew Sutton,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose.
“Dr. Virginia Prentice,” Ginny says without the slightest prodding from me. “But my friends call me Ginny.”
“Nice to meet you, Ginny,” Bart says, clearly having zero interest in learning my name. But that’s just fine. Better than fine.
“Let me know if you two need anything from me,” I say as I back away. “I’ll be inside dosing up the pups.”
I turn, heading back toward the shelter at a brisk walk, fingers crossing at my side. It’s likely nothing will come from this meeting except some passionate discussion about the plight of endangered wildlife, but there’s a chance a window may have cracked just wide enough to let some magic in.
But I don’t want a cracked window. I want a door flung wide.
As soon as I get back to my desk, I pull out my cell and text Deacon—On for tonight. Eight o’clock. Where do you want to meet?
I get a response almost immediately, proving Deacon isn’t worried about playing it cool, either. How do you feel about karaoke?
Laughing, I text, I feel like it’s crazy fun. As long as you don’t care that I can’t carry a tune in a bucket and that Love Shack is my go-to song.
He texts back a crying with laughter emoji and, Perfect. Let’s meet at the Fainting Mongoose. I’ll get there a little early and put our names in. The line can get pretty long.
I hesitate, chewing on my bottom lip, but finally type, So you aren’t bothered by the fact that I can’t sing? As a musician, that doesn’t drive you nuts?
A beat later, my phone rings, making me jump and glance guiltily toward the main office, but Tristan and Zoey are currently elsewhere on the premises. And it’s Deacon, so I can’t help but answer. “Hey, I’m not supposed to be taking personal calls at work, you know.”
“Tristan couldn’t run that place without you. Your job is safe,” Deacon says. Just the sound of his voice is enough to give me the chills. “And I need you to hear this from my lips. I love the sounds you make. All the sounds.”
My cheeks, and other, less safe for work places, flush. “If you say so, but I’m warning you, my musical stylings are much less pleasing to the ear than my other sounds. I’m tone deaf. Completely.”
“That’s fine. Music is about appreciation, not perfection.”
“That’s what I tell my students about art. But I would be lying if I said the sight of a doo-doo vase doesn’t make me cringe.”
He chuckles. “A doo-doo vase?”
“A vase that collapses in on itself due to poor construction, making it look like an elephant took a dump on your wheel.”
“I think I’ve made a few of those,” he says, surprising me.
“You’ve worked with clay? When?”
“My entire flight was part of an art therapy initiative after our mission went bad in Afghanistan. We were part of a control group to see if art made emotional fallout easier to deal with. And it did. For most people. But I don’t enjoy seeing things fall apart, even if it’s just my tenth lousy attempt at a bud vase.”
“And I don’t enjoy torturing the ears of people who can hear what music is really supposed to sound like.” I slide down to the floor, sitting cross-legged on the carpet as Luke, Tristan’s dog, pads back into the room, headed for his bed in the corner. I have to get off this call and get back to work, but I can’t resist asking one more time, “You promise hearing my ugly sounds won’t make your soul cringe?”
“Nothing about you could make my soul cringe,” he says in a husky whisper that makes all the hairs on my arms stand on end. “You make my soul happy. See you tonight, beautiful. I can’t wait.”
“Me, either. Bye.” I hang up with a grin so wide Luke comes over to investigate, plopping down in my lap and demanding under-the-collar scratches until he’s sure I’m okay.
“So much better than okay,” I murmur into his soft fur. “So much better.”
CHAPTER 18
VIOLET
I push through the door to the Fainting Mongoose a little after seven to find Deacon at a long table near the empty stage, surrounded b
y really good-looking women. And men, but it’s the women—particularly the busty one hanging on Deacon’s arm as she laughs at something a guy with a red beard is saying across the table—who catch my eye.
I consider backing out the way I came and texting Deacon to tell him I’m sick—I didn’t realize this was a group date—but at that moment he turns on his stool, spotting me in the doorway.
His eyes light up, and that panty-melting grin spreads lazily across his full lips.
Instantly, I forget all about Busty, my singing-in-public jitters, and everything else.
God, I love that smile.
He slides off his stool, making his way through the crowded tables filled with people pouring over giant books full of karaoke songs. “Hey.” He draws me in for one of his fiercely gentle hugs, the ones that make my chest feel like it’s going to burst with delight. “Sorry about the date crashers. I got called into the firehouse today for what I thought was an emergency meeting, but it turned out to be a surprise party to congratulate me for landing the chief position.”
My jaw drops. “You got it! Congratulations. That’s amazing!”
He grins self-consciously. “Thanks. Yeah, I’m excited. It’s going to be nice to feel useful again on a regular basis. And the volunteer crew are a great group of people.” He grimaces. “Except for their inability to take a hint. I tried to explain that I had a date tonight, but somehow they took that as an invitation to join us for karaoke.”
