A Breath of Magic

by Tracy Madison

  My jaw dropped open. Shelby was the girl he’d dumped me for during our last year of high school, and then, a year later, she’d dumped him for his best friend Grant. Kyle and Grant remained friends, and we visited him and Shelby on a regular basis. So yeah, the fact that Kyle mentioned her now, so many years later, in conjunction with our relationship, weirded me out. A lot. “What does Shelby have to do with anything?”

  “I hurt you then, so you’re trying to hurt me now? Or are you afraid I’ll change my mind, so you’re doing it first?”

  “No…and no. It’s just…well, you don’t really want to marry me. Can’t we just admit that and get it over with?” Ugh. Even though I believed that, it wasn’t the whole truth, now was it? “And Kyle? I don’t want to marry you, either. Proposing was a mistake.”

  “Right, you expect me to believe that now? You’ve wanted to get married since we were seventeen! I’m gone for less than a week and you suddenly change your mind?”

  I heaved a shaky breath. “I care about you so much. But what we have isn’t enough. You deserve more, and I want more. I want everything, Kyle! I want a man who looks at me and wants no one but me. I’ve never had that with you. Not really.”

  “Then why propose? You must have thought we could make it work. I believe we can! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Chloe. I believe we can be good together.”

  Okay, this conversation was spiraling downward fast. Going with the one thing I knew with complete certainty, I asked, “Do you love me the way you loved Shelby?”

  He flinched as if I’d struck him. Closing his eyes, he cursed. When he opened them again, there was a pain I’d never seen before. That’s when I got it. “You still love her, don’t you?”

  “I’ll be good to you, and I know you’ll be good to me.” He lifted his chin as a shudder whipped through his thin frame. “Shelby was my dream girl. Yes, I still love her, but she’s happy. I want her to be happy. And I’m tired of waiting around for whatever happened with her to happen again. So let’s do this, Chloe. Let’s make a life together.”

  The room whirled around me, not in a magical take-me-to-some-weird-reality way, but in an I-can’t-believe-what-is-happening way. All at once, every last thing that Alice, Elizabeth and even Verda had tried so hard to bang into my head about my relationship with Kyle slid into focus. “You should have your dream girl, and she isn’t Shelby. But she’s out there…somewhere, and you’ll never find her if you’re with me.”

  He lifted his shoulders in a faint shrug. “I don’t get this. Any other girl would have dropped me months ago, but you didn’t. Until now. Why now, Chloe?”

  “There’s someone else,” I admitted. “We haven’t even had one date yet, but I know I’m supposed to be with him. I won’t explain it. You wouldn’t understand anyway. But I’m telling you the truth.”

  Kyle’s face froze as all emotion drained away. “In five days? I don’t believe that. That’s crazy!”

  “What’s crazy is staying with someone you don’t love. And you don’t love me, do you?”

  His lips thinned into a straight line as he struggled to find an acceptable answer to my question. I waited, the beat of my heart echoing loudly in my ears, knowing what his answer should be but needing to hear him say it. He stepped toward me, his honey brown eyes beseeching me. “Yes…and no. Not like you want. But can’t it be enough?”

  Even with everything I knew, everything I’d experienced, part of me wanted to say yes. But I couldn’t, and not for the reason you might expect. This, for once, had nothing to do with me and everything to do with Kyle. “No, it can’t.”

  “Is that your final answer?” He voiced the question lightly, as if he were joking around, but I was pierced by the sadness lurking beneath.

  Nonetheless, I said, “Yes. It’s my final answer.”

  And that, as they say, was that.

  You know how some days start off perfect and then somewhere along the way one little thing pushes into your head, and suddenly you wonder why you even bothered to crawl out of bed? I woke the next morning to a sunny, nearly cloudless sky, my shower had plenty of hot water for once, my hair behaved exactly how I wanted and even the traffic lights seemed to be on my side during the drive to Ben’s house.

  His house, by the way, sat in the middle of a well-to-do suburban neighborhood on an exceptionally large lot. The neighborhood definitely had all the trappings of the traditional. The trappings were just bigger, shinier and far prettier than those found in smaller neighborhoods.

  Maybe the visual of Ben’s financial success should’ve made me even happier, but it didn’t. It’s not that I’m opposed to wealth, but I lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment, clipped coupons and had gotten to the point where I rarely bought anything unless it had a sale tag affixed. I am, however, a relentless saver, and I had a decent savings account to show for it.

  No, it wasn’t so much Ben’s apparent wealth that bothered me. Rather, the increase in my stress level had to do with two things: one, it made me feel not in his league, and two, why did he live in such a large house that was so far from where he worked? Did he have a family I didn’t know about? Had I used my magic to coerce an already-married man? It was that particular thought that had me wondering if maybe I’d have been better off snuggling beneath my covers all day.

  I passed Ben’s house for maybe the fourth time and started weaving my way through his neighborhood again, trying to remember if I’d seen a wedding band. Which was ludicrous. Because no way in hell would I have missed that. But not all married men wear wedding rings, do they?

  I was probably overreacting. It was just a house, after all. But if even the thinnest sliver of a possibility existed that he was already tied down, I had some serious thinking to do. Was I, even with the proof of the drawing, willing to break up a marriage? How far was I willing to go? There are a million reasons why people cheat, and I’m not such a Goody Two-shoes to proclaim that there is never an acceptable reason, because frankly I could think of several. Well, one or two, at least. But would I cheat? And would I be happy with a man who cheated on me, or even with me?

  My grip tightened on the steering wheel. No, no and fuck no. I might be a lot of things, but I am not a home wrecker. So if this was some stupid test to see how I’d react, then fate could take a flying leap and leave me the hell alone.

  This time, I slowed the car as I approached Ben’s home and actually made the turn into the driveway. Getting out of the car was easier than I expected. Knocking on Ben’s door proved to be a little more difficult, because yeah, I was still obsessed with the freaking huge house. When the door swung open, I sucked in a breath and held it, sure that the person on the other side would be a very pissed off woman demanding to know what I thought I was doing cavorting with her husband.

  “So you didn’t stand me up,” Ben said, leaning his long, sexy body against the doorframe. He wore rough-around-the-edges jeans that looked to have been washed dozens upon dozens of times, a not-tucked-in white T-shirt that very easily could’ve been one of the three-to-a-bag variety, and boots. Cowboy boots, to be exact.

  My breath escaped in a strangely odd combination of a wheeze and a squeal.

  “No…of course not.” Oh, God. He was also fresh from the shower. I knew this by his damp-at-the-edges hair that curled slightly around his perfect face. I swallowed again. “You…ah…live in a really big house,” I murmured.

  Sticking his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans, he lowered his chin in a nod, but an uneasy glint flashed in his eyes. “I do.”

  He could have said “Yes,” or “Sure do,” or even “Hell, yeah,” but no. The words he chose to say were I do. You know, the I-pledge-my-life-to-you wedding-vow words? Just like that, my wife-wanting-to-beat-the-crap-out-of-me paranoia returned with a vengeance. “Do you have a wife and two-point-five kids?” I blurted. “Or just a wife? Or just the kids?”

  His skin paled a shade. Those glorious blue eyes went flat. In a cool, emotionless tenor, he
said, “I’m sorry you drove all this way for nothing. It’s probably best if you leave.” And then, as if realizing how impolite he sounded, he finished off with a “Drive safely on your way home.”

  He stepped back into the house and started to close the door. I stuck my foot into the rapidly decreasing space and cried, “No!”

  Luckily for me and my foot, he paused. “Why would I have given you my address if I were married?”

  Um. Magic? But I couldn’t say that, so I shrugged, feeling completely, hopelessly idiotic. “Good point.”

  “And why would you ask me out if you thought I had a wife?” His scowl deepened. “Are you attracted to men who are already taken?”

  “No!” I repeated in an even louder screech. Fisting my hands, I strove for calmness. “I didn’t think you were married. And then I saw your house and your neighborhood, and…” I shrugged. “It made me think of family. So I’m really sorry if I upset you, but before we went out, I had to ask. Because I am not the type of woman who dates a man who is taken.”

  He regarded me silently, trying to decide if I only talked the crazy or if I actually was crazy. Finally, his lips curved into a semblance of a smile. “I apologize if I overreacted. Cheating…angers me. Considerably.”

  My entire body trembled as most of my tension eased away. “And well it should!” I said in an overly bright voice. “I probably should have explained better. Or at all, actually. But I’d still really like to go out. So…uh…don’t close the door on me, please. How about we have fun today?”

  Leftover doubt lingered, both in his gaze and expression. But then he said, “Why don’t you wait in the car, and I’ll grab my wallet?”

  “Cool! And Ben?” I said, hoping to wipe away his doubt. “I swear we’ll have fun. My goal is to make you laugh lots and lots and lots.”

  That got a semireal grin. “I wouldn’t bet on it. I’m not much of a laugher.”

  “You’ll see,” I said, already backing off the front porch. “By the end of the day your cheeks are going to hurt.”

  And maybe, if things worked out as well as I hoped, I’d snag that kiss.

  Chapter Eight

  A little over an hour later, I sort of wished I hadn’t made that proclamation. Because at the moment, I didn’t see even a hint of laughter. Ben hadn’t so much as chuckled during the drive from his place. At least we’d managed to hold some type of a conversation, a slow, painstakingly awkward exchange where I worked exceptionally hard to get the ball rolling.

  While I hadn’t exactly failed, my success was limited. I’d learned that Malone & Associates was a family business, started by Ben’s father and uncle when Ben was a child, and that a good many Malones were employed there. With some prodding, Ben shared that his favorite television station was the History Channel, his favorite spectator sport was hockey, his favorite actually-getting-in-the-game sport was soccer and he absolutely despised fast food.

  Which, uh, sort of pointed out how very much we didn’t have in common. Well, except for the TV thing, because while I didn’t watch the History Channel, I loved old movies. Gone with the Wind being my top favorite, and that has oodles of history. So yeah, close enough. But I didn’t watch or participate in any team sports, and I adored fast food, even if I didn’t allow myself to indulge that often. But no way were these differences going to dissuade me.

  Except now we were standing in line waiting to buy our amusement-park tickets, and Ben’s complexion had turned a faded, sickly gray. Not only that, but his body language was off-the-charts uncomfortable. Add in the unexplainable, miserable feeling of gloom that descended upon us, and I didn’t have the slightest clue what was wrong or what to do about it.

  I touched his arm lightly to gain his attention. “I bet we can grab some Dramamine inside. And if not, then we can just take in a bunch of shows or something.”

  “Dramamine isn’t necessary,” he said quietly, avoiding looking directly at me. “I don’t suffer from motion sickness.”

  Well, there went my best guess. “So…you just don’t like amusement parks? We can go somewhere else!” I tugged on his arm, my intention to pull him out of line, but he didn’t budge. “How about…uh…putt-putt? Or maybe—”

  Gently twisting out of my grasp, he angled his head downward. I nearly choked on the storm of emotions coloring his features. Despair? Maybe. But I definitely saw the fire of anger. When he spoke, his voice was clipped. “I used to love amusement parks. That was a while ago.”

  I waited for more, but apparently he must have decided he’d said enough. Frustration and a good dose of bewilderment settled in, dampening everything I’d hoped for this day. How in the world were we to get from this to that drawing? Why did it seem as if the last thing Ben wanted was to be here with me?

  “Fine,” I said softly, somehow already feeling bruised and betrayed, sad and disillusioned. “If you want to forget this, we can leave. I’ll take you home.”

  The shouts and laughter from the group of teens in front of us made Ben pivot. He stared at them for a minute. His back stiffened and then slowly relaxed. When he looked at me again, the anger had lessened. “Actually, I’d like to stay,” he said, his tone gruff but subdued, with an underlying thread of pain.

  “Are you sure?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “You promised that my cheeks would hurt by the end of the day. I think I’d like to see if that’s possible.”

  Going with the flow, I winked. “Well, I didn’t stipulate which set of cheeks would hurt, now, did I?” A raspy chuckle escaped him. Score one for me!

  Folding his arm around my shoulders, he nodded to the line. “It’s moved up. We’ll be through the gates in no time.”

  I think I nodded back; I’m not sure. We walked forward together, inching closer to the ticket booth, the feel of his arm bolstering my sagging confidence. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted to see the love in Ben’s eyes that I had seen in the drawing. The intensity had blown me away, made me believe in a happily-ever-after I’d given up on.

  “Where to first?” he asked as we headed into the actual park. “Rides, food or some type of show?”

  “Rides.” So that for a little while we wouldn’t have to talk. I simply didn’t know what to say, how to shrink whatever gap existed between us. A few hours of one ride after another seemed like a great way to break the ice. As an added bonus, nearly every ride would have us sitting thigh to thigh. “You like roller coasters?”

  “Used to,” he said tersely. “Let’s see if I still do.”

  The first coaster we came to was of the corkscrew variety, and as luck would have it, the line was blessedly short. Once we were in the car and all buckled in, I said, “You have to hold your arms above your head for the entire ride.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I do, do I? Says who?”

  “Chicken?” I teased. “Trust me; it’s more fun this way.”

  “Then you have to keep your eyes open…for the entire ride,” he countered.

  I chewed on my lip, a happy little bubble growing inside. “How’d you know I normally close my eyes?”

  “Good guess.” The car jerked as we started to move. He turned his head, gaze on me. “Open eyes, arms up. Deal?”

  I pretended to ponder the challenge. I mean, it wasn’t that it was impossible to keep my eyes open when going a zillion miles per hour. I just didn’t like it. Which was the main reason I never skydived again: you sort of have to keep your eyes open for that. But for Ben? “Deal,” I said, as we started up the first hill.

  His arms went up, and mine followed suit. Our eyes locked, the anticipation in his matching my own. My stomach somersaulted, both from said anticipation and the oh-so-close proximity of Ben. He grabbed my hand in the air just as the car hovered at the edge of the peak.

  My stomach plunged and twirled, and then we were off. Wind hit my face, blew my hair back. The screams from the other passengers were all around. Ben’s hand tightened around mine as we came out of the dip and immedia
tely went into a spin. Laughter burst from my chest, but the wind whooshed it away. I tried to scream through the second upside-down maneuver, but the look on Ben’s face plugged the sound before it left my throat. Happy. Smiling. Exhilarated. This was the man in my drawing. This Ben. My Ben. Even if he didn’t know it yet.

  My fears about his odd behavior rippled away. Maybe he’d had a bad experience at an amusement park once. Perhaps he’d forgotten what it was like to live, to have fun, so the concept of spending an entire day focused on nothing but had weirded him out. Or hell, any one of a hundred other reasons.

  The coaster slid to a jumpy stop, and it was with great regret that I let go of Ben’s hand. My legs shook as I stepped out of the car, both from the ride and the man, and I nearly tripped. But he was right behind.

  “Careful,” he said as he caught me, his breath tickling my ear, tantalizing me. “Don’t want you to get hurt.” He flashed me a smile that made my legs go even weaker. “What’s next?”

  Without thinking, without even the slightest hesitation, I stood on my tiptoes and stroked his cheek. “Whatever you want.”

  “Anything I want, eh? No backing out, whatever it is?”

  “I was just thrown upside down multiple times. It’s a pretty safe guess I’m up for anything.”

  “Good, the Ferris wheel it is! They have a huge one here, and I could never get—” Abruptly, he stopped speaking. His jaw locked. Tension crept into his body, literally tightening every muscle. His demeanor changed so fast that it sent a shudder through my body.

  It seemed that, like it or not, today was going to be a series of one-step-forward-and-two-steps-backs. I forced a breath, calmed my jitters and tried to find a way to calm his.

  “Is there something about being here that upsets you?” I voiced the question carefully, not wanting to upset him further but dying to help. “Should we go find a place to sit and talk?”

  He blinked, and in the space of that blink, whatever emotions he’d been feeling disappeared beneath a facade of cheer. “Come on,” he said. “I think the wheel is this way.”