Balanced in Love (Written in the Stars Book 9)

by Jennifer Woodhull

  “She’ll say yes, dude. For some reason she loves your sorry ass.” Brody tips his chin up in Marcus’ direction.

  “Yeah, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You two are a couple, solid.” Noah adds. “When you know, you know.”

  “You’re right. I’m fucking awesome. She’d be crazy to say no.” Marcus laughs.

  We all nod, and agree, but something about the whole conversation gets my mind racing. Marcus and I have been friends for a few years. I can’t tell you the number of times he shut down the bars with Brody and me. We’ve gone on guys’ trips to New York, and even Vegas. We were always looking for the next good time. When he met Felicia, it all changed. Now they live in the suburbs like an old married couple. I used to think that sounded like giving up.

  Now, though, I’m not so sure. Maybe Marcus has it all figured out, and Brody and I are the suckers.

  Chapter Ten

  Taylor

  Since we might stay downtown for a while after the walking tour, I decide a dress and flats is the most practical combination for comfort. When I get downstairs, Brody, Noah, Gabi, and Marcus are all sitting on the back porch. I join them on the outdoor sectional, sitting next to my brother, who hands me a beer.

  “Marcus, you look nice. Going somewhere special?” I ask. He cuts a handsome figure in the dark gray sport coat and black slacks he’s wearing.

  He tugs at the cuffs of his shirt from under the sleeves of the jacket and runs a hand through his hair. “Thank you, thank you. Do try to control yourself, Taylor. I’m a one-woman man.” He winks and we all laugh. “Yeah, Felicia and I are going downtown for dinner.”

  I notice Noah fist bumps him, which seems like a lot for just going to dinner. I assume that means our suspicions were right. Maybe he is planning something big for tonight.

  A moment later, Elle and Felicia both join us on the porch. Felicia has on a black cocktail dress with silver threads woven through it. It has a fringe at the bottom, like those dresses from the nineteen twenties. Marcus’ eyes go wide when he sees her.

  He immediately stands and walks over, depositing a kiss on her cheek. “Damn, baby. You look incredible.”

  “You, too.”

  He takes her hand. “I just called a car. It should be here any minute. You ready?” She nods. “Ya’ll have fun tonight.” He tells us.

  “You too,” Brody raises his beer to him, and Noah follows suit.

  “What’s that all about?” I ask, nudging Brody’s shoulder.

  “Sorry, Tay. My lips are sealed.” He puts down his beer and stretches, putting his arms on the back of the sofa behind me on one side and Gabi on the other. “Bro code.” He gives me a wink.

  Gabi crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “Tan molesto,” she mumbles under her breath.

  “What’s that? You want to molest me? I know. I’m a handsome motherfucker. You can’t control yourself.” He says to her, wriggling his brows.

  “Ha! In your dreams.” She shakes her head. “I said annoying. You and that stupid code. So juvenile.”

  “I beg to differ. Every man needs a set of rules to live by. There are certain lines you don’t cross. Your friends know they can count on you, and you can count on them.” He looks at Noah. “Back me up, here.”

  “Well, rules to live by, sure. But, I mean, come on. Sometimes, well, things happen. Circumstances change. You don’t always see it coming. Yeah, you need to keep your word, be a stand-up guy. But sometimes, as you get older, you start to realize, things you used to think were important aren’t a big deal.” He looks over at Elle. “Taking care of the people you love, and being able to trust your gut when something feels right, well, sometimes you have to go with where life takes you.”

  The way those two are looking at each other is intense. It’s so obvious the love they have for each other. Not just some intense, I want to get you naked kind of thing, but real, deep, absolute love for each other.

  Gabi leans forward to look at me around Brody. When I meet her eye, she gives me a subtle head-nod.

  “I get what you’re saying, man. I do. But there are some things you just don’t do. Circumstances or not, there are lines that shouldn’t be crossed.” Brody shakes his head.

  “Agreed,” Noah nods his head. “I’m just saying, sometimes, the lines move. If you aren’t willing to accept that, you could miss out on something incredible.” He looks at the door behind us. “Back me up, here, Ethan.”

  I didn’t even realize he was standing behind us. He’s got his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans; his feet crossed at the ankle as he leans against the door frame. He hasn’t shaved, so there’s thick stubble peppering his square jaw. The white dress shirt he’s wearing, sleeves rolled up to show off those thick, muscular forearms of his, sets off his tan skin. Sexy doesn’t even begin to cover how good he looks right now.

  “Well, I’m definitely a believer in not missing out. You have to take a chance, sometimes. I mean, my dad was that guy who never missed a day of work, no matter how tired or sick he was, he rallied. When it came to us, though, he always put us first. If I had a little league game, or a something at school, he was there. He didn’t know what was going to happen. He just decided, once he had a family, that he wanted to put them first. We were more important than his rule about not missing work.” He shrugs. “I guess, sometimes your priorities do change.”

  He steps forward onto the porch, and his eyes lock on mine. I feel my cheeks burn, my heart racing at the intensity of his gaze.

  Brody stands and claps his hands together, rubbing his palms against each other. “Well, my priority right now is to get some food. What do you say to hitting up the Crab House before the tour?” We all agree, and he pulls up his phone to call a car.

  As everyone files through to the front of the house, Ethan is walking behind me, and leans forward and whispers in my ear so no one else can hear.

  “You look beautiful, Tay.” I look up at him over my shoulder.

  “Thanks. You, too.” He gives me a wink and it makes my belly tingle.

  After filling up on seafood, we all walk over to the meeting point for the ghost tour. About a dozen other people are standing in front of the candy shop where we’re supposed to meet up. We have about fifteen minutes before the tour starts. Elle and Noah disappear into the shop and emerge a few minutes later, each carrying a white, paper sack. Noah dips his hand in and pulls out a gummy worm, dropping it into his mouth. He smiles as he chews, looking like an overgrown kid.

  “So gross. I still don’t know how you eat those things.” Elle shakes her head. She dips into the bag she’s carrying and pulls out a chocolate, then passes the bag around to the rest of us to share.

  “They’re the best,” Noah argues, tipping the bag forward to offer everyone a piece. He crooks an arm around Elle’s shoulder and pulls her close, depositing a kiss on her temple. “They’re sour and sweet, just like you, my little sour gummi bear.”

  “Whatever.” She rolls her eyes, but her grin can’t be contained. They’re so cute, those two.

  Gabi spots a small wooden booth, painted black, at the corner of the street. We see the logo for the tour, and all make our way over to get our tickets scanned. A few minutes later, we hear a tapping sound, and everyone turns. The crowd parts and a woman, younger than us, maybe in her early twenties, appear in full Victorian garb. She’s petite, with a tiny waist and big, full boobs peeking out above her corset. She’s wearing black and purple from head to toe, right down to her walking stick. Her hair, light brown tipped in purple, hangs in spiral curls. She has full, bee-stung lips, painted blood red, and small, round glasses. Several of the guys from the assembled tour group visibly gawk as she makes her way to the front of the crowd. She has the whole steampunk look down, and even with the over-the-top geek-chic vibe, I’m sure a girl a stunning girl like that gets offers from a wide variety of guys.

  I can’t help but steal a glance at Ethan to see if she’s caught his interest. He barely glances at her befor
e meeting my eye and flashing me a grin. We might be just fooling around, just having some fun, but I can’t help but be a little relieved he’s not ogling her or anyone else when I’m around for that matter.

  The woman walks to the front of the assembled crowd, spinning theatrically to face us. “Welcome, all brave souls, to the Charleston Spirit Tour!” She throws one hand in the air, then points to herself, her long, pointed nails the same blood-red color as her lips. “My name is Morgana, and I’ll be your guide tonight as we step to the edge of the mortal coil, peeking through the veil to glimpse the spirit world on the other side.” She scans the crowd, looking at each of us, then leans to the side, craning to see the booth on the corner. “Hey Julie?” Her throaty, theatrical voice is replaced with that of a typical college girl.

  “Yeah?” The girl calls back.

  “I only count nineteen.”

  “Yeah, the other four went with Luis.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks.” The girl clears her throat. “Can you guys all sort of scootch up here by me? We need to cover a few housekeeping items.”

  She asks us to let her know if we leave the tour, so she doesn’t have to back-track to make sure we are okay. She warns us about cobblestone streets and reminds us that some of the buildings we’ll pass are people’s homes, and we should be respectful, and suggests we keep our cameras handy. “We’ve had a lot of spirit photos this week. On last night’s final tour, we got one at the graveyard that was full of orbs.” She seems excited sharing this news. “So, if you’re all ready let’s get started.” She unhooks a small lantern from her belt, flips a switch on the bottom of it, and hooks it to her walking stick. Holding it aloft, she looks both ways, then guides us across the street, past an old church, and around the corner to our first stop.

  I’m not sure if I believe in ghosts, to be honest. I’ve never seen one, but I don’t necessarily think that means there aren’t things we don’t understand. The guide is entertaining, though, and she knows her stuff. She tells us the difference between a cemetery, a plot of land designated for graves, and a graveyard, which is always attached to a church. Who knew? She shows us a house built in the early eighteenth century by a ship’s captain, whose widow is said to peer out the windows, looking out across the water for his ship to return. Then we went by a bar that was one of Charleston’s earliest watering holes. The bartenders and waitstaff have told stories of dishes flying off the shelves, and doors opening and closing on their own.

  As we walk to our next stop on the tour, I pause under a streetlight to dig in my purse. Ethan hangs back to check on me.

  “You okay?”

  “Just looking for some gum,” I answer.

  “I’ll pop in here and grab some,” he nods to a little market just ahead of us. “Anything else? You thirsty?”

  “ A water would be nice, thanks.”

  I take a few more steps so I can see where the tour group is going. A moment later, Ethan emerges from the store with a pack of my favorite gum, and a bottle of water for each of us.

  “Thanks. That was very sweet of you. We should probably catch up with the group.”

  He nods and we start walking toward the crowd. As we pass a narrow alley between two buildings, he suddenly grabs my hand and pulls us into the space.

  “What are you…” I don’t get to finish my sentence. He cups my cheek with his free hand and covers my mouth with his. The kiss is deep, sensual, and I don’t want it to end.

  It takes a moment, but I finally regain the ability to speak after a kiss that literally took my breath away. “What are you doing? Someone will see us.”

  “No one is paying attention. They won’t see us. I just couldn’t go another minute without doing that.” His eyes trail down my body and back up again. “That dress is sexy as fuck, and you look absolutely gorgeous.” He presses another soft kiss to my lips, then nods to the street, indicating we should catch up.

  Lucky for us, the group is caught at a crosswalk, waiting for a light. Noah and Elle have made their way to the front of the group, while Gabi and Brody are toward the back, so we stand behind them. Gabi looks at me over her shoulder.

  “Did you stop somewhere?” She nods to my bottle of water.

  “Yes. There was a market, so we popped in for some water. All this walking was making me thirsty.”

  “Yep, definitely thirsty.” Ethan takes a long swig from his water.

  Gabi wriggles her brows at me and extends her open hand. I hand her my water bottle and she takes a swig, then hands it back. “Nothing worse than being thirsty and not being able to do anything about it.” She gives me a wink.

  Chapter Eleven

  Taylor

  We continue our tour, stopping in front of an old church that sits in the middle of an otherwise residential street.

  Morgana gestures to the church steps. “Please have a seat.” I sit between Ethan and Gabi, and everyone else piles in around us. The guide begins by gesturing to the church behind us.

  “This is Saint Michael’s church, built in seventeen seventy-five,” she continues on, telling us some details of the architecture, and the church’s historic relevance, then gestures to the house across the street. “And directly across from it, we see the Robert Durand house, a fine example of Georgian architecture, build in seventeen-sixty. Durand was a French trader, having moved his family, including two young daughters, from their home in Bermuda to here in Charleston to set up shop in the Americas. Many letters and documents from the period describe Durand as having cut a dashing figure, being tall, with thick, wavy, jet black hair. His wife was a great beauty, corresponding frequently with friends and relations in Paris, and always setting the tone for fashion in Charleston society. His daughters, it’s no surprise, were some of the loveliest and most sought-after by local bachelors hoping to settle down with a beautiful bride in possession of a generous dowry.” She raises her eyebrows, rubbing her fingertips together in the gesture for money, and everyone chuckles.

  “Emilie, the oldest daughter, fell madly in love with a boy named William, whose father ran a small bakery on Merchant Street. In those days, a shopkeeper was considered lower-middle class, and Emilie’s parents expected her to marry someone of their same social and economic rank.”

  Gabi leans into my shoulder and whispers. “I don’t think this one is going to end well for Emilie.”

  “Thinking her dowry would provide a suitable income for the young couple, Emilie begged her parents to let her marry William. Her father refused, explaining that she needed to marry well to secure the family’s position in society, and marrying the mere son of a shopkeeper would be the ruin of their reputation.” She paused, taking a sip from an aluminum bottle, then continued. “She forewent her own happiness, marrying at nineteen. Lord Reginald Sutton was forty-five years her senior, but their marriage secured her father’s position in society, and brought about profitable partnerships. The following year, she was here, at their family home, visiting her mother. It was a beautiful autumn Saturday, with clear, sunny weather, much like we enjoyed today. She looked across the street, and here, at this very church, she saw a wedding ceremony taking place. The groom was none other than her beloved William, who she had given up for the sake of her family.” Morgana stepped forward, pointing to the top floor of the Georgian home across the street.

  “Emilie climbed up to the bedroom on the top floor and threw open the shutters. She took a length of rope and tied it to the wrought iron bedpost, then fashioned a noose from the other end. Placing it around her neck,” the guide mimicked the motion on herself. “She leapt from that window. Her neck was snapped instantly, as the wedding party looked on in horror.” Several people in the crowd gasp. “That was on September twenty-fifth, seventeen seventy-five. It was Emilie’s twentieth birthday.”

  My eyes go wide, and Gabi and I slowly turn, our eyes meeting. “Babe,” she starts.

  “Weird coincidence, huh?”

  She just nods, slowly, up and down.

  “Hey,
” Brody leans around her to look at me. “That’s your birthday.”

  “Yeah, thanks, it is.” I roll my eyes.

  He points his fingers toward me, wiggling them in the air. “Ooh, spooky!”

  “Stop it!” Gabi backhands him in the chest.

  The guide continues. “People have reported seeing a young woman, hovering between the second and third floors of the house, as if she’s hanging there, and here, at the church,” she gestures behind us. “Some say they’ve seen William, sobbing, pacing back and forth on these very steps.”

  One guy, probably in his early fifties, jumps up from where he’s sitting. “Nope,” he mumbles as he moves to stand on the sidewalk. Everyone laughs.

  “I’ll give you a moment to take photos if you’d like, then we’ll move on,” Morgana offers.

  “Tay,” when we stand, Gabi pulls me aside. “Did you hear all that? She gave up her true love because she was worried about what her family would say. See? Tragedy! It all ends in tragedy.” She shakes her head.

  “Stop it. I’m not some gothic heroine of a doomed romance.”

  “Maybe not, but I’d hate to see you settle for something less when you could have something great.”

  Suddenly, Brody grabs Gabi’s waist from behind. “Boo!”

  She jumps, letting out a squeal. “You’re an idiot,” she turns to face him, swatting at his chest. I can’t help but notice he doesn’t take his hands off her waist.

  “Come on, I’m just having fun. Don’t you like to be scared?” He tips his chin in my direction. “Tay loves it. Hey, Ethan, remember that time we put the scream mask in her window at Halloween?”

  Ethan shakes his head, wiping a palm down his face. “Dude, that was awful. We shouldn’t have done that.”

  “He’s right, that was awful. Gabi, the thing glowed in the dark and they put it in my bedroom window before I went to bed.”