by Iris Abbott
“Sure do,” Savannah answered. “The one I picked out is sitting on my nightstand. I think of Granny and smile every time I lay eyes on that fairy.”
“I have an idea about what to do with them. I think you’re gonna love it!”
“Do tell,” Savannah replied in an interest-filled voice.
“Remember the painted rocks phenomenon?”
“Yeah, I even found a few in Central Park a couple of years ago.”
Maggie told her about the gnomes she found and how they made her smile. “Anyway, it gave me an idea. How about if we hide fairies in random spots for people to find? You know, spread some of Granny’s good cheer to others.”
“Oh! My! God!” Savannah squealed.
The high-pitched screech assaulted her ears. Maggie’s eyes widened. She yanked the phone away from her head.
“I can’t think of a better tribute to Granny!” she heard her sister yell. Maggie put the phone back to her ear. “It’s absolutely perfect. Great thinking, sis!”
Her heart filled with warmth. Maggie looked up to her older sister for as long as she could remember. Any compliment from Savanna always made Maggie’s day. “Do you mind if I start now, or would you rather I wait until you moved down here? I’d like to leave one with the gnomes I found today,” she explained.
“Feel free, just make sure you take photos,” Savannah insisted. “I’m gonna wanna see.”
“Of course,” Maggie eagerly agreed. “I’m going by the house before the gig tonight to start sorting through the fairies for outdoor ones. Talk to you tomorrow!”
She hung up before her sister could reply. Maggie was eager to get started. The more she thought about it, the more energized she felt. Maggie hummed during the fast strut back home. She had enough time to grab her stage outfit and drive to her grandmother’s old house to pick out some fairies before she had to be at Rose’s for a short practice.
****
Marcus skirted the line of people who waited to enter the nightclub known for its upscale alcohol choices and live music. He cut the line and showed his ID to the bouncer. “Barrett Security,” was all he had to say before the muscled man nodded at him. Marcus called the owner, who he met in Atlanta during Rose’s stalking incident, to let him know Barrett Security was running a protection detail for Rose and the Flower Patch that night. The bouncer granted Marcus access with no problems.
He slipped inside the entrance. He edged his way around the crowd that stood two-deep in front of the bar. Bright lights glinted off the bottles of booze that lined the mirrored wall behind the bartenders, distracting him for a brief second before Marcus turned his head toward the stage on the opposite side of the large, open room.
Music spilled from overhead speakers. The sound was loud enough to make him wish for a pair of earplugs. Still, it did not drown out yelled drink orders, the clinking of glasses against tabletops, or people screaming in each other’s ears to be heard over everything else. Marcus barely managed to suppress a shudder. He preferred an easy silence to a denizen of noise that was sure to cause a headache before the night was over.
His love of peace and quiet, though, had not stopped Marcus from insisting that he be the one to watch over the band tonight. Jeremy was usually the protector who attended their gigs because of his fiancée, but he was still out of state waiting for Ben to be transferred to a hospital in Charleston.
There was no ascertained threat to the ladies. Until he had a handle on who their uninvited guest was and what he wanted, it would not hurt to be extra vigilant. Marcus found a dark corner at the side of the stage and leaned against the wall. His black cargo pants and charcoal colored T-shirt helped him blend into the shadows.
His gaze swept the open space. Nothing looked amiss. Typical Saturday night revelers celebrated and laughed with friends and singles who looked for a hookup mingled with each other around the bar.
A waitress sidled up to him. She fluttered her eyelashes and grinned. “What can I getcha, babe?” She winked and leaned in close enough for him to smell her musky perfume. It was thick and heavy, nothing like the light floral scent Maggie wore.
Marcus wrinkled his nose and stepped to the side, putting some distance between him and the flirty waitress. He shook his head and nodded toward the stage. “On the job,” he replied with a hard look and narrowed eyes that sent the woman scurrying in the opposite direction.
The music from the speakers stopped. The background noise died down. The lights dimmed.
Maggie and the other members of the Flower Patch stepped onto the stage and picked up their instruments. They played a three-minute instrumental. The music faded, and Rose joined the others on stage. Her clear, melodic voice rose above the music, demanding attention.
He tore his gaze from Maggie long enough to scan the club. Most people stared at the stage, enjoying the music, while others drank or quietly talked to the person next to them. No one stood out, except, of course, for the women on stage. Nothing looked amiss or caused his gut to tingle.
His stare snapped back to Maggie as if controlled by an unseen magnetic force. She was the lodestone, he the iron. The natural attraction between them was intense and unavoidable. He could not fathom why she denied its existence. The draw was tangible.
Maggie wore a lacy, cascading skirt that swept the floor in the back but stopped above her knees in front. The medium green-blue color reminded him of her eyes and the ocean. A tight, cropped white tank top molded her breasts and displayed an enticing swath of flat, toned belly. A sheer, gold scarf draped across her shoulders swayed and flowed with the movement of her arms.
Marcus stared, entranced by the elegant grace of her movements. His eyes watered, but he did not dare blink. He didn’t want to deprive himself of her beauty for even a second. Marcus wiped his suddenly sweaty palms down the front of his pants. Still, his gaze never wavered from the woman who so thoroughly captured his attention.
It was a good thing he trusted his gut instinct to warn him of impending danger. At the moment, he didn’t think he could look away from Maggie even if his life depended on it. He was that deep in her thrall.
About seventy-five minutes later, Rose and the flower patch gathered in the center of the stage and took their final bow. “We’ll be out by the exit selling merchandise and signing autographs,” Rose promised with a wink. “See you soon!”
Marcus watched Maggie and the others make their way through the crowd to the exit and discreetly followed them. A bouncer stood watch near Violet, the club owner’s wife, and Lily’s sister. A freelance accountant, she kept books for the band and helped sell CDs, T-shirts, and the like after their gigs.
He moved to the side where he was out of the way but had an unobstructed view of Maggie and the others. Marcus checked out the parking lot and exit before he entered the club. It was well lighted. Nothing about the space set off alarm bells.
Some of the tension left his body. Marcus relaxed and leaned against the rough side of the brick building. His gaze wandered back to Maggie. She tugged Lily and Holly over to a familiar clump of flowers.
“Look!” Maggie exclaimed. “Gnomes, just like the two I found by the lagoon in our neighborhood.” She knelt and placed something on the ground. He saw a bright flash and knew she used her phone to take a photo.
Lily frantically glanced around them. “Doesn’t that seem strange to y’all? The fact those things have suddenly started appearing where we live and work?” She twisted her fingers together.
“Gnomes seem harmless enough, and they make me smile,” Maggie answered with a shrug. “If they’d shown up in the house, that’d be a different story.”
“Hey, ladies,” Marcus greeted them to make his presence known.
Lily jumped.
Holly yelped. “Warn a girl next time!”
Maggie’s hand flew to her heart. “Geeze! You scared the crap out of us!”
Lily grinned. “Nice seeing you again, Marcus. Talk to y’all later!” She lifted her hand, cheerfully waved
, and skipped over to her sister and the growing crowd of fans.
“So, you got stuck with guard duty while Jeremy’s out of town?” Maggie wanted to know.
He leaned close and grinned. “Volunteered, actually.”
She tilted her head. “And why would you willingly give up a Saturday night?”
He took a step closer and bowed his head so that their noses almost touched. “If you can’t figure that one out, I need to step up my game.”
Her kissable lips parted. His blood burned with a desire hotter than anything he felt in ages. He could not remember the last time he wanted a woman as much as he wanted Maggie.
“Don’t bother, it’d be a waste of your time,” Maggie warned.
“Doubtful. The attraction’s hot enough to sizzle the air between us. I imagine we’ll burn up the sheets when we finally come together.” As far as he was concerned, it was bound to happen.
She arched her brows and sucked in a quick breath of air. “Mighty sure of yourself, huh?”
“I know intense physical attraction when I feel it,” he quipped back. “You gonna tell me it’s all one-sided?” He crossed his arms over his chest, tilted his head to the side, and dared her without words to deny his claim.
“No, but it doesn’t mean I’m hopping into bed with you, now or ever.” She spun on her heel and marched off to join her friends. At the last second, she froze in place then glanced back at him from over her shoulder. She ran a hand through her tousled curls. She opened then closed her mouth like she wanted to say more but faced forward and continued away from him.
He watched until Maggie was hidden by the throng of fans who waited for a word and or an autograph. Marcus strode to the flowers that framed the exit and glanced down at the gnomes he placed there earlier. A sparkle caught his eye. He knelt closer to the figurines and spotted a fairy next to his gnome.
“Well, well,” he muttered under his breath. It seemed that he and Maggie had more in common than just physical attraction. His mouth split into a grin. His mermaid was full of surprises. He could not wait to discover and unwrap more of her hidden wonders.
FIVE
Maggie strummed a few notes on her guitar. Satisfied with the sound, she quickly made changes to her current work in progress, using her favorite notation software. The song was coming along nicely. She was almost finished and wanted to play it for the others soon.
The doorbell rang.
“Maggie! You’ve got a visitor,” Lily yelled from the foot of the stairs.
She reluctantly set her instrument aside and rushed down the stairs. Marcus stood by the door. She ran her hands down the front of her sundress, took a deep breath, and came to a halt at the bottom of the steps.
“Hey,” she shyly greeted. Her gaze wandered over him from head to toe. He was dressed in his usual tight black T-shirt with cargo pants. She swallowed, trying to relieve the sudden dryness in her mouth.
“Good morning, wanna grab a cup of coffee with me?”
He looked at her with puppy dog eyes. She scraped a hand through her hair and eyed the front door. “Um, thanks for the invite, but I’m gonna pass.”
Lily sailed to her side. “I’m on my way to meet Violet for lunch and some retail therapy. Holly’s with that new guy she’s so crazy over and probably won’t be back for hours. You should go, get out, have some fun.”
Maggie glanced at Marcus. He tilted his head to the side, grinned, and gave a pleading look most women would not be able to ignore. She felt her resolve waiver and bit back a sigh. "Fine.” She caved and finally dared to meet his gaze.
A grin softened his rugged and usually harsh features. “It’s a date.”
“Actually, it’s just coffee, and I’ll drive my own car.”
He opened his mouth, most likely to disagree.
She held up a hand to stop him before he could argue. “It’s the only way I’ll agree to have coffee with you.” She stiffened her spine to stand her ground. If he argued, she would bow out and stay home.
“Fine, I know when not to push my luck. How about the coffee shop around the corner you mentioned yesterday morning?”
Her mouth watered at the thought of her favorite chilled mocha. Maggie nodded. “Let me grab my purse, and you can follow me. It’s just down the street.”
Maggie jogged up the stairs to her bedroom. Her purse rested on the floor by the door. She grabbed it, but instead of rejoining Marcus right away, she ducked into the bathroom. She took down the sloppy topknot that held her hair in place, shook out the long strands, and used mousse to scrunch up the curls. She brushed on some blush, coated her lashes with mascara, and rubbed strawberry flavored lip gloss over her lips.
Not wanting to appear as if she were trying too hard, Maggie glanced at her reflection briefly. Satisfied that she looked nice but not too made over, she charged back down to the living room. Marcus’s hip was propped against the wall by the front door. He crossed his arms over his chest, drawing attention to the muscles in his upper body. He grinned when she came to a stop next to him.
“Lily already left to meet her sister, wants us to lock up and set the alarm.”
“Thanks.” Maggie rummaged through her handbag until she found her keys. She opened the front door, waved Marcus out ahead of her, and quickly punched in the code to arm the alarm. She stepped outside, closed the door, and locked up the duplex.
“I’m parked over there,” he pointed to his vehicle. She noticed he had backed into the spot. The men of Barrett Security did that a lot. In case the need arose for a quick getaway, she guessed.
“I’ll back out and wait for you to drive up behind me,” she offered. Maggie gave him the name of the coffee shop and the address in case they got separated, which did not seem likely in the short distance they would travel. She strolled to her car, and by the time she was ready to back out of the assigned parking spot, Marcus was waiting for her in the big, black SUV most of Barrett Security seemed to prefer.
Ten minutes later, they were in line at the locally owned and operated coffee shop. Maggie breathed deep, savoring the pleasant smells. She loved the aromatic scent of freshly brewed coffee and ground beans, the tingle of spices such as cinnamon and chai tea, and the sweetly tempting hint of fresh-baked cookies and muffins.
She glanced at the specials on the decorative chalkboard propped up in one corner of the long counter. Strawberry watermelon lemonade, green tea frap, and a few others all looked good but not good enough to tempt her away from her usual iced mocha. They moved up in line, and she could see the row of flavored syrups, silver whipped cream canisters, and the chocolate and caramel drizzles. Beyond the goodies were the bean grinders, espresso and frothing machines, and percolating coffee pots.
“What’s your pleasure?” Marcus whispered in her ear.
A delightful shiver raced up and down her spine. She clenched her fists and tensed her body, barely managing to suppress the tremors. Images of the two of them tangled together in silky sheets flashed through her mind. Maggie caught her bottom lip between her teeth and lightly bit down. She most certainly was not going to encourage him by giving away her steamy thoughts.
“Their iced mocha is well worth any wait,” she quickly replied. Maggie dared to shoot a glance his way. His indigo blue eyes stared back at her. She rapidly blinked to stop herself from getting lost in the beautiful blue irises.
She delicately cleared her throat. “Umm, what about you?”
“My pleasure?” he arched a brow and smirked at her. “Don’t think you’re ready to hear that answer.”
Her face burned, and she knew it must be beet red. “Coffee wise,” she sharply retorted. “Stay on track, Easton.” She used the less personal surname, hoping to put some kind of distance between them.
“Plain black coffee,” he shot back, “strong, reliable, and full of substance without any nonsensical frills.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes. The description sounded an awful lot like the man who stood next to her. “You could have gotten tha
t at home,” she could not help but point out.
“Maybe, but then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of your company,” he replied with a sexy lopsided grin and wink that made her breath catch in her throat.
The couple in front of them shifted to the side, and they stepped up to the register. They placed their orders. Marcus added two double chocolate brownies and insisted on paying. Maggie knew when to pick her battles, so she did not argue with him.
A couple of minutes later, with drink and food in hand, they turned away from the counter. Maggie glanced around the large, open room. Her gaze skimmed the spaced-out bistro tables, comfy leather sofas placed around coffee tables, and the window seats that served as reading nooks. The sofas and most of the tables were full, but to her surprise, one of the four nooks was open. She bounced on her toes and shot toward the cozy seating area, intent on claiming it before someone else snapped it up.
She sat on the padded bench-like seat drenched in sunlight and let out a contented sigh. The window seats were her favorite place to relax, but they were popular and rarely free. She pointed out the large drawer built into the window seat. “There’re stacks of popular magazines and the latest bestselling novels inside if you’re interested.”
A relaxed smile crossed his face as he sat down next to her. He leaned back in the seat and eyed her up and down. “The only thing I’m interested in is you,” he declared in a deep voice smoother than the finest scotch. Warmth started in the pit of her belly and radiated outward.
She took a sip of iced mocha to avoid a reply. The low intimate sound of his husky laughter surrounded her. Maggie’s toes curled, and her sex clenched. She bit the inside of her cheek. She should have stuck to her first instinct to ignore the man because his nearness created a pleasurable ache that made her tingle all over.
Maggie watched as he sat down the artisan mug that held his coffee and fished for something in one of his many pockets. The men of Barrett Security almost always wore cargo or combat pants to hold their many instruments of the trade. She saw him palm a gnome before he placed it on the corner of the windowsill.
