Spells of the Heart

by Ellen Dugan

  “Everyone’s favorite little psychopath.” Holly grunted as we went up the steps.

  “Any rumbles out of her lately?”

  “No, not really,” Holly said. “Nothing I can’t handle anyway.”

  “Watch the table legs,” I warned, as we eased the table through the doorway. Once we were in, we righted the table and set it in place. “Oh, wow, this does look good.” I ran my hand proudly over the enamel top of the table.

  Holly held open the back door. “Let’s go get your chairs and set it all up.”

  We trooped back across the yard and picked up the four mismatched wooden chairs that I’d painted all in the same shade of candy apple red. I rolled the garage door down and followed Holly back inside.

  “Any preference as to which chair goes where, Autumn?”

  “Nope.” I set two chairs in place, as Holly did, and stepped back to admire. “There,” I said. “It’s finally starting to look like a home.”

  “A home of your very own.” Holly adjusted a chair. “The table goes well with the pendant farmhouse light fixture I got for you.”

  “It really does,” I sighed happily.

  “It sure would be nice if the entire downstairs was finished.” Holly stuck her tongue in her cheek.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Subtle, Blondie. Real subtle.”

  “I could call Duncan for you,” Holly volunteered.

  “He’s probably too busy, anyway.”

  A banging on the glass back door saved me from further argument. My three and a half year old nephew, Morgan John, had his face pressed up against the glass and was looking in. “Hi!” He grinned at me and Holly. “Mommy said I could come visit!”

  Quickly, I went to the door to let him in. “Hi MJ.” I looked out over the yard and gave a wave to his mother, Lexie. She smiled and went back inside the manor.

  “I came through the garden. Like you said I could.” Morgan hugged my legs.

  “That’s exactly right.” I patted his shoulder.

  “I like the new gate,” he said. “The flowers are getting big!”

  I’d had a six-foot section of the metal privacy fence that had once separated the properties taken down, thus creating an entrance from the manor’s yard to my bungalow. It was a huge hit with my nephew and made it much faster popping back and forth from my house to the manor. While there wasn’t a formal gate per se, that’s what we’d started calling the opening in the fence.

  “The moonflowers will start blooming soon,” I said, speaking of the vines I’d planted in the spring.

  Morgan’s eyes lit on the table and chairs. “Which chair is mine?” He wanted to know.

  “Actually,” I said, going to the pantry, “I thought this might be your special chair.” I pulled out a tall, vintage step stool chair and placed it next to the counter.

  Fascinated, he climbed up the steps and sat on the seat of the red metal chair. “This is my chair. I’m up high. I can help cook.”

  “You’ll be the perfect height in that.” Holly nodded.

  “’Cause I’m a big boy now,” Morgan said, pleased with himself. “Babies can’t cook.”

  Holly hid a grin. “No, they can’t.” My nephew was still a little bent out of shape by the arrival of his three month old sister, Belinda.

  “Tomorrow,” I told him, “you and I can bake some cookies in my new kitchen. How about that?”

  “Okay!” He banged the heels of his tennis shoes on the chrome legs of the step stool.

  As soon as I get to the grocery store and stock up, I thought, and made a mental note to get to the store tonight before Violet came over to visit.

  “This is my chair, ‘Reen,” Morgan said, waving at an empty corner of the kitchen.

  All the hair rose on the back of my neck. From the day I’d taken possession of the house, Morgan had been having conversations with someone he called ‘Reen. Aka- Great Aunt Irene. “Hello, Aunt Irene. What do you think of the new kitchen?” I said conversationally.

  The glass fronted cabinet where I’d stashed her cookbook slowly opened.

  “She likes it,” my nephew said very seriously.

  “Aunt Irene,” Holly said in the same casual tone. “Autumn needs to finish the renovation. What do you think about Duncan Quinn coming over to the bungalow to do the work?”

  “Holly!” I hissed at her, embarrassed that she’d bring that up in front of Morgan—who was sure to repeat it to his father, my brother, Bran.

  “’Reen is smiling, Holly.” He started to laugh and clap his hands. “She didn’t like the other guys.”

  I tossed up my hands, and Holly started to grin. Morgan glanced from Holly to me, trying to figure out what was so funny.

  ***

  “Brown sugar, vanilla, chocolate chips...” Intent on my list, I was focused on the baking aisle at the grocery store. It was so wonderful to be able to stock up and buy real cooking and baking supplies. Stopping in front of the chocolate chip display, I pushed my glasses back up my nose. Eyeballing the dark chocolate chips, I grabbed two bags and chucked them in. I pushed my cart forward and was so busy making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything—that I ran my grocery cart right into the butt of another shopper.

  “Oof!” a male voice sounded.

  I yanked the cart back and my purse hit the floor. “Sorry!” I glanced up. “I wasn’t watching where I was—”

  “We really have to stop meeting like this,” Duncan Quinn said.

  It took me a moment to find my voice. Damn, he looked wonderful. Duncan’s jeans were torn at the knee, and his t-shirt stretched over a nicely built chest...and if I wasn’t mistaken he was more ripped since the last time I’d seen him. His blue eyes were clear, and he appeared relaxed and happy.

  In fact, my ex looked better than ever.

  “Of all the baking aisles in town, you had to be in mine,” I grumbled.

  He grinned at that. “Hello, Autumn.”

  I bent down and grabbed my purse. “Sorry about the collision. Are you okay?” I slung the purse strap over my shoulder and stood up straight.

  “I’m fine. How are you?” he asked.

  “Fine,” I answered far too quickly. “I’m doing fine.

  He considered my cart. “Looks like you’re going to be baking cookies.” He picked up a bag of chocolate chips for himself from the grocery shelf and added them to a cart that held beer, cheese, and fresh fruit.

  “Uh, yeah.” I did my best not to fidget. “I promised Morgan we’d bake cookies together. Sort of a ceremonial first time to use the new kitchen appliances celebration.”

  “I thought your reno had started in April?”

  “It did. I hit a few snags along the way.”

  “Six months is more than a few snags.” Duncan frowned. “What happened?”

  “Well hey, this has been great running into you again, but I really have to go.” I flashed a smile, prayed it appeared sincere and maneuvered the cart around him. The last thing I needed was Duncan Quinn being all casually friendly and chatty...not to mention looking sexy as hell.

  I zipped around the corner and headed up the cereal aisle. I stared at the boxes blindly. Had Holly called him? I wondered. In the years since we’d broken up I’d rarely bumped into him in public...Not counting that night back in March when I’d gotten a little toasted and he’d assisted Holly in getting me to the car, and I’d drunkenly told him he was the best lover I’d ever had.

  I cringed, blew out a breath, and concentrated on acting casual and sophisticated. I strolled down the next two aisles without tripping or running into anyone else, and didn’t put a single thing in my cart. Somewhere around the toilet paper aisle I managed to get ahold of myself. I stared at my list, realizing that I’d missed a few items while I’d been so busy acting nonchalant.

  “At least I was able to protect my thoughts from him.” I muttered to myself. God! How embarrassing would that have been if he could have picked up on my admiring the way he looked? I’d learned the hard way how to blo
ck off my thoughts where men were concerned. After all, I’d gotten a crash course while dating that gorgeous Creole man, Rene.

  I tucked my hair behind my ear, backtracked, finished up my shopping and rolled all of my purchases out to my car. I’d begun to load the bags in the trunk when Duncan suddenly appeared next to my cart. I didn’t flinch, but it was a very near thing. “Hello, Duncan.”

  “Let me help you.” Without waiting for my assent he started loading the groceries in the trunk.

  “Thanks.” I nodded and loaded a few more bags. He was simply being friendly, I told myself. Then I snuck a peek at his butt as he leaned in to place the bags in the trunk. Lord and Lady, I thought. He still had a nice backside.

  “Restocking the kitchen are we?” he asked cheerfully.

  I jerked guiltily and reminded myself that he was a telepath. If I thought too ‘loud’ in his direction, especially when I was standing close to him, he would probably pick it up. “Yeah,” I attempted to answer in the same casual way he had. “Now that I have a working kitchen again, I’m looking forward to actually cooking a meal as opposed to nuking something in the microwave.”

  “I’ll bet.” He set the last bag in and shut the trunk for me.

  “So what were you doing grocery shopping?” I asked. “Doesn’t the staff at the Drake mansion do that for you?”

  He snorted at that. “I help out the housekeeper sometimes, but Mrs. J. doesn’t buy my beer. Besides, Leilah asked me to pick up a few things, she’s baking for a Sorority fundraiser or something.”

  And with his words, reality dampened my appreciation for his masculine charms. “I didn’t realize you and your cousin were so close.”

  “Leilah’s okay. She’s been trying to do better.”

  “How nice.” I pushed the cart to a nearby cart round up. Considering what had gone down between Holly and Leilah, this topic of conversation was doomed to certain failure.

  Duncan was still standing next to my car, waiting for me. “Autumn, you know I’d never condone the magickal violence that happened between Leilah and Holly.”

  “Yes, I know,” I said, meeting his eyes. “Our families have a complicated history, and honestly neither side is blameless.”

  We stood in that busy parking lot, only a few feet apart, but the distance between us was huge.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said quietly.

  Those three little words had my breath catching in my throat. For some crazy reason I suddenly ached to hold him. Just hold him. Even though he appeared fit, healthy and happy, somehow he still seemed in need of a hug. Which made me feel slightly guilty for eyeballing his butt.

  “Well, I’d better get going. Violet is coming over tonight.” I took a deliberate step back. It was nice to see you, Duncan,” I said. “Take care of yourself.”

  “You too,” he said.

  I got in my car and steered towards the exit, telling myself not to look back.

  I did anyway, and felt a little tug at my heart when I saw him watching me as I drove away.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I barely managed to get my groceries put away before there was a knock on my front door. I shut the pantry, took a quick glance around the kitchen to check that everything was in place, and went to answer the door.

  “Hello!” I smiled at Violet O’Connell as she stood on my front porch. Her blonde hair was long and dyed a gorgeous purple ombre at the bottom. She was wearing a t-shirt in her trademark color of purple, and her arms were full with a shopping bag and a blooming cyclamen plant in a woven basket.

  “Hey!” She grinned and handed me the plant. “Happy new kitchen! I hope you don’t mind, but I brought a friend along that I’d like you to meet.”

  “Sure,” I said, taking the basket. As Violet stepped inside the bungalow, I caught sight of a petite and curvy young woman. I estimated her to be a couple inches over five feet tall, and her platinum hair fell in waves to her shoulders.

  “Hey there.” Chocolate brown eyes twinkled up at me. “I’m Candice Jacobs.” She wore a flowing top in fuchsia, denim walking shorts, and had a small silver pentagram around her neck. She also held a platter filled with what appeared to be bonbons—on lollipop sticks.

  “Jacobs?” I asked. “Any relation to Oliver Jacobs?”

  “Oliver Jacobs is my dad,” she said. “My father and your dad, Arthur, were first cousins. We share a great-grandmother. Which makes us second, or maybe third cousins.”

  I recognized her as a fellow Witch, both by the jewelry and her personal energy. “It’s nice to meet more family,” I said. “And you have chocolate. Come on in.”

  I felt a little buzz of power as Candice crossed the threshold. Taking that as confirmation, I let the storm door shut behind her and stepped down into the living room where Violet stood waiting.

  “When does your living room furniture get delivered?” Violet asked.

  “This weekend,” I told her. “Let’s head on through to the kitchen.” Leading the way, I chose a sunny spot on the kitchen counter for the plant and set it down.

  Candice slid her platter on the table. “This is an awesome space for cooking and baking.” She went to the stove and practically cooed over the new range.

  “Candice is a baker.” Violet grinned, pulling a bottle of wine and a corkscrew out of the shopping bag.

  “Like your father?” I asked Candice as she opened the oven door and peered inside.

  “Yes, and no.” Candice closed the oven. “I worked at the doughnut shop while I earned an associate degree at the community college. Then I went off to culinary school in Chicago and got a second degree with a focus on Pastry Arts.”

  I smiled at her. “I’m friends with Shannon, your sister in law.”

  “Yeah, she mentioned you. Told me we should meet.”

  “Wine glasses?” Violet asked.

  “To the right of the sink,” I answered her.

  “Candice is opening up her own business next door to the flower shop,” Violet announced as she brought three of my wine glasses to the table.

  “Oh yeah? Are you gonna give Oliver a run for his money?” I asked.

  Candice laughed and pulled out a kitchen chair. “He’d disown me if I even thought about competing with Blue Moon Bakery.” She sat and pushed the platter in front of me. “My culinary talents and focus tends to run in a different direction than doughnuts and muffins.”

  “What are these?” I asked, gazing at the pretty little candy-coated spheres. They were gorgeous. Some had swirls of glitter going around them and others were decorated with different colored sprinkles.

  “Cakepops.” Candice winked at me. “Red velvet dipped in white chocolate and yellow cake dipped in dark chocolate.” She nudged the platter closer. “Try one.”

  I eyeballed the dozen cakepops before me. “They’re almost too pretty to eat.”

  “Nonsense,” Candice said.

  Violet handed me a glass of wine. “No worries, I brought a dessert wine.”

  I snorted out a laugh and chose a cakepop covered in white chocolate. I leaned back in my chair and took a bite. “Oh my goddess,” I said with my mouth full.

  Violet snatched a dark chocolate covered cakepop and bit in. “Yeah, you could say she’s got the magick touch.” She gave a happy sigh and closed her eyes. “Kitchen Witches are the very best friends to have.”

  “Aw, thanks, Violet.” Candice chose one for herself. “Anyway, I’m going to open up a specialty shop next month. Cupcakes and cakepops, some artisan chocolates...”

  “That’s great!” I took a sip of the wine.

  “With brides wanting to have more options for their receptions, cakepops, cupcakes and dessert bars are popular for weddings these days,” Candice explained. “What started out as a little side business, has taken on a life of its own.”

  Listening as she discussed her new business, I chose a dark chocolate covered cakepop next. “Wow,” I managed after sampling it. “If this is any indication, you’re going to be a very busy w
oman.”

  Candice grinned. “Thanks.”

  Violet gobbled down her cakepop. “Brides usually ask me for recommendations for wedding desserts. The other day I had someone ask me if I knew anyone who did miniature pies. Anyway, Candice, being as we’re gonna be neighbors, I figured we could cross-promote.”

  “That would be great!” Candice bounced in her chair. “Did you know, Dad has actually started doing doughnut cakes for weddings?”

  “Doughnut cakes?” I asked her.

  “Yeah.” Candice leaned forward. “Imagine a huge pyramid built of all different sorts of doughnuts. It’s a really fun option for brunch weddings.”

  “That is a cool idea.” I nodded. “But I gotta tell you after sampling these, if I ever took the plunge; I’d do cakepops at my wedding reception. These are great.”

  “Thinking of weddings?” Violet asked with a raised brow.

  “No.” I washed down the dessert with wine. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.” You saw Duncan at the grocery store. My inner monologue argued back.

  I firmly ignored that.

  “I’m not seeing anyone either,” Candice sighed. “Besides, I’ve got a business to open and I want it ready to roll by the end of October. I don’t have time for romantic relationships.”

  “Ditto.” Violet topped off her wine. “I’ve had my heart broken once. I don’t care for a repeat performance.”

  “Well then, who needs men?” I raised my glass. “Here’s to friends, old and new, and to chocolate.”

  “Blessed be.” Candice tapped her glass to mine.

  “Sláinte.” Violet tapped her glass to ours. “Now give me the grand tour, Autumn. I want to see what you’ve done with the place.”

  I spent a pleasant evening with Violet and Candice. Candice had us howling with laughter as she regaled us with tales from culinary school. I waved goodbye to them from my front porch a few hours later and sat on the bench to enjoy the sunset and the cooler evening air.

  As dusk fell, I sat listening to the cicadas and told myself I wasn’t lonely. I had family right next door, and friends. I’d even made a new friend tonight. “Besides, I’m not ready to love again,” I muttered, staring up at the moon. A shooting star zipped across the sky and I jolted. Hoping that the universe hadn’t taken my words as a challenge, I stood, preparing to head back inside, when a plaintive little meow stopped me.