Sometimes, late at night, Bryony imagined what it would be like to have a family of her own. She couldn’t picture herself married to anyone. But she could envision six, seven, or even eight kids, like Poppy, gathered around her as they planted lettuce seeds or whispering growing spells to herbs, trees, and flowers.
The clatter of footsteps thundered up the stairs to Bryony’s attic bedroom. A moment later, the door banged open.
But Bryony knew who had entered her room this time without even looking.
“Seline,” Bryony said, annoyance clear in her tone. “Turn right around and knock on the door before you come in.”
“But—“
“Now.”
Seline huffed. She stomped out of the room. Slammed the door. And shoved it open again.
Bryony tugged the blankets aside. “You didn’t even wait for me to say—“
“There’s a man on the porch,” Seline cut in. She paused, savoring this piece of news she so proudly declared. “And he’s cute.”
Bryony sighed. “Saint Circe, please give me strength,” she muttered. “Where’s Mom? And Dad? Why can’t they talk to this guy?”
Seline shrugged. “Mom’s asleep. She was really sick earlier.”
“But she’s better now though, right?”
Seline nodded so sharply that her hair flopped in her eyes.
“She made a cup of tea. That special stuff that Sky brings over every Saturday.”
“And what about Dad?” Bryony said.
“Oh. He’s been in the toxic greenhouse for hours. The carnivorous plants needed feeding and you know how he never wants any of us in there with him when he does that.”
She gave a theatrical shudder for effect. No Torres children under the age of sixteen were allowed in the toxic greenhouse that was full of plants that could sting, bite, maim, cripple, poison, and kill in a heartbeat.
There were two other greenhouses—one for simple things like herbs, fruits, and vegetables for the local kitchen witches and warlocks who might require fresh ingredients for their magic. The third greenhouse held plants that had long since gone extinct throughout the rest of the world, such as orchids worth millions of dollars, bromeliads that dripped crystals when it rained, and moss that crackled like glass.
The toxic greenhouse was Bryony’s favorite though. It was peaceful and quiet and if she didn’t want anyone to find her, she would escape in there for a few hours. Wrestling with stinging nettles and hissing hemlocks managed to soothe her temper in no time.
If her father was in the toxic greenhouse, she wouldn’t disturb him. He was probably enjoying a few minutes of alone time before he returned to the house to help make breakfast.
That left the stranger on the porch to Bryony.
She pushed the covers aside, propped Poppy on her hip and gestured to the door.
“All right, Seline,” she said. “Lead the way.”
Seline tilted her chin up and marched down the stairs. Bryony trailed after her, yawning.
Voices drifted down the hallway and Bryony slowed to a stop as she turned the corner to see her mother, Naomi, standing at the door. Her hair was piled up in an artful messy bun atop her head. You couldn’t tell she had been sick earlier. She always managed to bounce back in record timing and keep going, chasing after one child or another.
“It’s so nice of you to drop by,” her mother said. “Please come in.”
She stepped aside to allow the visitor in.
And of course it had to be Sean O’Hara. Carrying an apple pie too. Hot and fresh from the smell of it, curls of steam rising into the chill autumn air. He had ditched the black leather jacket and ratty jeans that he’d been wearing the night before.
Instead, he was dressed in a clean, crisp button up shirt, a sky blue scarf and brown close-fitting jacket that complimented his sandy colored hair. His pair of jeans looked like they might still have the price tag on them somewhere, too. He had gone through a lot of trouble to make sure that he made a good impression this morning.
Too bad all that trouble was for nothing.
“Can I have a bite?” Seline said, standing on tiptoe to get a look at the pie. She smiled up at Sean with her most charming grin.
“Little flirt,” Bryony grumbled.
“Of course you can,” Sean said. “I made it for you.”
“Even bigger flirt,” Bryony muttered.
Seline’s smile blossomed brighter, if that was possible. And she giggled in a way Bryony had never heard her giggle before.
Poppy squirmed, pushing against Bryony’s shoulder until she was lowered to the ground. She hurried over to stand next to her mother’s leg, tugging at the flowing white skirt of her nightgown. She reached one hand up, grasping at the pie. Sean laughed and passed the pie to Bryony’s mother before he picked up Poppy and kissed her cheek.
“Hello, little flower,” he said. “You’re looking radiant this morning.”
He wrapped one of her curls around his finger and released it gently. It popped back into place like a spring.
Bryony crossed her arms. It seemed Sean was putting her entire family under an enchantment. Poppy was usually so shy that she never went anywhere near someone she didn’t know. It would take weeks before Poppy finally warmed up to them.
Except for Sean, apparently. Probably because he smelled like apple pie.
“Traitor,” Bryony muttered.
“The kitchen is this way,” Naomi said. “Would you like some coffee? Galen made a fresh pot before he went out to the greenhouses. He won’t be back for a while still but I’ll be sure to save a slice of pie for him,” she added.
Her mother moved aside to let Sean into the house. And his gaze fell on Bryony who was still standing at the foot of the stairs.
Her hair was a halo of carrot-colored fuzz. Her dark blue silk shorts peppered with silver stars had seen better days, worn to threadbare comfort and very nearly see-through. And her favorite black baggy t-shirt from her father’s punk rock stage, read in chunky red letters HEX BOMB.
Sean raised an eyebrow.
“Nice shirt,” he said with a smirk.
Bryony, unfortunately, had no comeback ready to fire off. She simply went red in the face to match the color of her hair. And she could have sworn she heard Sean snicker as he passed her to follow Naomi into the kitchen.
CHAPTER THREE
It seemed Bryony’s entire family was enchanted with Sean O’Hara. He bounced Poppy on his knee until she let out a peal of laughter. Seline sat in the chair beside him, chin propped in her hand with a besotted look on her face. She wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she was ogling him.
Basil clattered into the kitchen and skidded to a stop. Three levitating pails full of milk sloshed after him, spilling on the floor. He made a big show of sniffing at the air.
“Is that pie?” he said. “For breakfast?”
As if he hadn’t smelled it all the way down at the barn and come running to get a slice for himself before his siblings ate it all.
“That’s some impressive levitation magic you’ve got mastered there, sir,” Sean said, gesturing to the milk pails behind Basil.
Basil puffed with pride even as his milk pails wobbled, his concentration flagging in the presence of food and compliments.
“Thanks,” Basil said, pretending an air of nonchalance and failing miserably. “I just started learning the spell last month.”
“Only a month?” Sean said. “It took me two years to get levitation right. You’re a natural!”
Basil beamed. More milk pooled on the kitchen floor as the pails threatened to drop entirely.
“Put those on the counter, love,” Naomi said. “I’ll get them in the ice box later.”
“Yes, Mom,” Basil said, fumbling to get the pails high enough into the air.
Bryony sulked at the edge of the kitchen, watching the fiasco play out. Maybe if she went back to bed, this whole nightmare would go away. She snapped her fingers to summon a mop from the broom cl
oset.
By the time the mop had reached the kitchen, more Torres siblings had woken to the smell of apple pie and spilled into the room until all thirteen children were gathered around the table.
Naomi drew her wand and with a flick of her wrist, plates, forks, and cups of coffee, tea, and hot chocolate floated into the air, swirling around and around until they alighted in front of each person present.
“Say thank you to Mr. O’Hara,” Naomi said. “He was kind enough to bring us the pie this morning. Otherwise, you would be having apple oatmeal and pumpkin biscuits for breakfast. Again.”
The usual fare for the Torres household. At this time of year, the orchard was overflowing with apples and the pumpkin patch was brimming with pumpkins for the Samhain celebration. Any leftovers would be stored in the cellar to be eaten throughout winter.
“Thank you, Mr. O’Hara,” the Torres children said in unison.
Except for Bryony who brushed her plate of pie aside in favor for the coffee.
From this vantage point, with Sean sitting at the kitchen table, his back to Bryony standing in the doorway, she could see his ears turn pleasantly pink.
He was blushing.
On command.
What a troll, she thought.
Bryony’s fingers twitched with the thought of smacking him in the back of the head with the mop.
Saint Circe above, that would feel so good.
But her mother would kill her if she did that.
So Bryony sent the mop colliding with Basil’s chest. The bite of pie halfway to his mouth dropped to the plate again. His gaze darted to her and he scowled.
“Don’t give me that look,” Bryony said. “It’s your mess. Unless you plan to levitate all that milk off the floor you happened to spill on your way in.”
Basil huffed and snatched the mop. No levitating this time, Bryony noticed as he set to sopping the milk off of the floor with some good old-fashioned elbow grease.
“The pie was my pleasure,” Sean said. “I like to put my kitchen magic skills to use now and then. Keep them sharp. And call me Sean, please.”
“It was very kind of you either way, Sean,” Naomi said. She rested a hand on her stomach. “With twins on the way and a business to manage, I hardly use my kitchen magic much these days.”
“That’s perfectly understandable, ma’am.”
Bryony felt nauseous and her stomach pitched at how thickly he was laying on the charm, relentless. Sean was only a few feet away. If he kept up like this, maybe she could vomit on him and he would finally leave.
Naomi laughed, one hand delicately covering her mouth, her cheeks flushed.
“Sweet Hecate have mercy,” she said, breathless. “It’s just Naomi. Not ma’am. I certainly hope I don’t look old enough to be called that.”
“If I saw you on the street, Naomi, I would guess that you and Bryony were sisters. Identical twins.”
Naomi abandoned her mug to press both hands to her cheeks with a flustered smile and a bubble of laughter.
Yep, Bryony thought. Definitely going to be sick. What little coffee she’d had was already coming back up.
She cleared her throat.
“Didn’t we already discuss flattery, Mr. O’Hara?” Bryony said, biting out the title she knew he didn’t like.
Sean twisted around in his seat, eyebrows raised in an innocent expression as if to say, I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Poppy reached out and grasped at his cheek with one tiny hand. Sean caught her fist and pretended to nibble on her fingers. She grinned, flashing dimples and two pearly white teeth.
“Oh, Bryony, it’s perfectly all right,” Naomi said, waving her off. “Sean is just being polite. Didn’t you two go to school together?”
Bryony gritted her teeth. “We sure did.”
“When I returned to Wildemoor,” Sean said, turning his back on Bryony again to address Naomi. “I knew the Torres household had to be the first stop on my list to catch up on everything I’ve missed.”
“Are you staying in Wildemoor long?” Naomi asked.
“For the foreseeable future, yes. My mother’s health has been failing for a while so I’ve moved back in with her. And now…” Sean sighed and stroked a stray curl away from Poppy’s forehead. “Now I have to find a job.”
Bryony stopped breathing.
No.
No, no, no.
“You could work here!” Seline crowed before Bryony could get a breath to speak.
Sean feigned an expression of surprise. “That is an excellent idea, Miss Seline.”
“We don’t have a position open though,” Bryony cut in. “You’ll have to look somewhere else.”
Naomi cast a confused glance at Bryony. She slowly set her cup of tea aside.
“Honey, with Samhain coming up, you know we need all hands on deck.”
“We can manage just fine,” Bryony said, widening her eyes in an attempt to pass a silent message that she did not want Sean O’Hara working at her home.
“And after Samhain,” Naomi said, either oblivious or choosing to ignore Bryony’s signals. “It’s Yule. All those trees and wreaths and…just utter chaos.”
“Mom,” Bryony said through her teeth.
“I’d be more than happy to pitch in, Naomi,” Sean said in his smoothest charming tone.
“That will depend on your magical inclinations though,” Naomi said.
Bryony let out a relieved puff of air. At least her mother wasn’t completely out of her mind with Sean’s flattery. She was sticking to business protocol.
“I’m familiar with earth magic,” Sean offered. “Kitchen magic is my strong suit, if you’ll excuse the brag rag. And I can wield a few spells for air and water manipulation.”
Naomi’s face lit up. Bryony shriveled. She was losing this battle, hard and fast.
“That’s wonderful!” Naomi said. “Now…I thought you had some affinity for woodworking charms?”
Sean shook his head. “That would be my brother, Keegan.”
“Yes, that’s right. Of course. He made that gorgeous addition to Bianca Lovett’s house last winter. Stunning details.”
“If you’d like, I could get him to do some woodworking for Samhain.”
Naomi reached across the table and touched Sean’s hand.
“Would you?” she said. “It would be a big attraction and bring in even more guests.”
“It wouldn’t be a problem at all,” Sean said. Another nauseatingly good-natured smile.
“And how soon can you start working?” Naomi said.
“Whenever you need me.”
“Well, our redcap mushroom crop is behind schedule for Samhain sales and—”
“No, it’s not,” Bryony cut in. “I’m handling it.”
Naomi’s gaze darted up to Bryony’s face. She clamped her mouth shut and slowly straightened up, one hand pressed to the small of her back. She cocked her head as if to say, what has gotten into you?
“Bryony, sweetie,” Naomi said in a firm tone. “You work night and day already. You deserve a break. It’s about time that you got started building a life of your own rather than always being saddled with helping me.”
That stung. Bryony stayed because she wanted to, because she loved her siblings, despite how irritating they could be. She couldn’t live like her best friend, Sky did. All alone in a house at the edge of town with only her cat familiar, Ceylon, for company.
Poppy’s gaze slid past Sean’s shoulder to Bryony. She frowned, a tiny wrinkle forming between her eyebrows and she wiggled off of Sean’s lap. She wobbled over to Bryony, arms outstretched as she sensed Bryony’s frustration.
“Up,” she said.
Bryony gathered Poppy into her arms, resting her cheek atop Poppy’s downy-soft curls. Naomi’s expression softened and she crossed the kitchen to wrap an arm around Bryony’s shoulder in apology.
“Sean,” Naomi said. “We’d be thrilled for you to join the Pagan Posies crew. You can start tomorrow
morning, eight o’clock.”
“Thank you, Naomi. I really appreciate it. I won’t let you down.”
“If your kitchen magic is anything to go by, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”
Bryony’s gaze slid to the side and she stifled a sigh.
“Under normal circumstances,” Naomi continued. “My husband handles the new hires. But since you and Bryony already know each other, she’ll be the one showing you around.”
Bryony’s fingers tightened on Poppy so suddenly that Poppy squawked.
“Sorry, pumpkin,” Bryony whispered, rubbing Poppy’s back in apology. “Mom, I really don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Nonsense. It’ll give you two a chance to talk and catch up.”
Sean’s gaze shifted to Bryony.
“That sounds great,” he said. “I look forward to it.”
“Hell’s bells,” Bryony muttered under her breath.
Naomi went rigid.
“What was that?” she said.
“Nothing, Mom.”
“I certainly hope so. You know I don’t like foul language in my house, especially around ears as young as Poppy’s.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Good. Now that’s all settled, let’s finish up this delicious pie.”
Sean rose from his chair. “Actually, I’d better be going. I told Mom I’d be gone for only an hour. She needs help with a few things around the house.”
Naomi nodded. “I’m so glad you dropped by. And thank you for the breakfast. We will eat every crumb, I can promise you that.”
Sean placed a hand over his heart with a slight bow. “I don’t deserve such honorable compliments from a lovely woman.”
Bryony groaned and turned away to flee the kitchen. But Naomi spoke before she could get out of the room.
“Bryony, could you show Sean to the door?” she said.
Bryony pasted a flat smile onto face, baring her teeth. “Right this way, sir.”
Sean rose from his chair and followed Bryony down the hallway to the front door. She opened it and determinedly did not look at him when he stepped up beside her.
Sean stopped, waiting for her to acknowledge him.
Spelled Kiss (Coven Corner Book #2) Page 2
