Tug of Attraction

by Ashlyn Chase

  He rushed to her side. “What is it? A spirit?”

  She nodded.

  “What does it want?”

  “I don’t know,” Brigit said. She was shaking.

  “Come.” Ethan commanded, leading her away from the uncomfortable spot and directly over to Hanna.

  “Hanna, Are there any restless spirits here?” he asked.

  She focused on Brigit. “You saw Henry, didn’t you?”

  Ethan caught himself holding her close to his side and stroking her arm. It was such a natural reaction, he hadn’t even realized he was doing it. Hanna didn’t seem to think anything of it, and neither did Brigit. In fact, she was leaning into him. Perhaps any coven member would comfort any other when the situation called for it. But she was no longer shaking. He had to keep reminding himself to treat her like any of the others, so he let his arm drop and stepped aside.

  She glanced up at him momentarily, then refocused her attention on Hanna, who was recommending she talk to Myranda.

  Brigit was chewing her lip. “A man stuck his face right in front of mine. He looked angry.”

  The high priestess sighed. “Yeah. That’s Henry. I banished him from this room and my bedroom, but he must have figured the kitchen was a loophole. Is he still there?”

  Brigit swiveled toward the kitchen and relaxed. “No. He’s gone. You can’t see him?”

  “Not anymore. I can sense presences, but I had to turn off my clairvoyance and clairaudience. Spirits have awful timing.”

  Ethan straightened. “You can do that? Turn it off?”

  “Can we do that?” Brigit asked, hopefully.

  “Yes, but don’t.”

  Brigit set one hand on her hip. “Why not?”

  “Most spirits are harmless, and they need people who can communicate with them. A little unfinished business might be all that’s holding them back. You can tell them to leave, if you can’t deal with them. But you were given this gift for a reason.”

  “You call being a ghost magnet a gift?” Brigit asked.

  “Yes.” Hanna glanced around the room. Finally locating Myranda, she called her over.

  “Hi. What’s up?”

  “Brigit is clairvoyant.” That was all Hanna had to say.

  Myranda’s face brightened like she’d just been handed a beautifully wrapped present. “Thank the Goddess! I had a medium at the shop, but she had to move back to San Sebastian, unexpectedly. Can you possibly help me out?”

  “No!” Brigit snapped. Then she recovered her calm demeanor and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be abrupt. It just that I don’t like it. I’d rather learn how to turn it off like Hanna does.”

  Myranda’s face fell. “Oh.”

  “I think she just needs to learn how to control it,” Hanna said. “Can you help her with that?”

  “Yes, I can certainly try. Absolutely.”

  “There,” Hanna said. “Isn’t that a better solution? So if this is a calling you were given by the Goddess, you can use it...if and when it’s needed.”

  “And turn it off when it’s not?” Brigit asked.

  Myranda smiled. “Yup.”

  Ethan was grateful no one had paid attention to him during this conversation. He didn’t want to admit to clairaudience. For some reason, only Charlotte spoke to him, and as annoying as she could be, he’d miss her if he turned off his gift. Maybe he was turning it off whenever he left his home and didn’t even realize it.

  “Just think about it, all right?” Myranda asked. “I don’t think it’s any accident that you and I found out we could help people contact their dear departed on Samhain night.”

  Brigit let out a resigned sigh. “I’ll think about it. But I don’t even have a way of communicating with them. They stare at me, like I’m supposed to read their minds. Maybe I should be able to, but I can’t.”

  “You can’t—yet,” Myranda amended. “Are you willing to learn?”

  “I—I guess so.”

  “Good enough,” Hanna said. Then she gazed over their heads to address the rest of the coven. “Is everyone ready to start the ritual part of the evening?”

  Murmurs of agreement and the members forming a circle around the altar ended the conversation. If Brigit wanted to talk about her dilemma with him, that might show the trust he’d hoped was forming on her part. He wouldn’t bring it up. He’d let her do it, if she wanted to.

  Chapter 7

  Brigit hadn’t seen Ethan since Samhain, and she’d missed him. Now they were in his SUV, and he was taking her on some kind of mystery vacation. She liked surprises—if they were nice ones. Knowing Ethan, she was sure this would be one of those.

  “So, you’re still not telling me where you’re taking me?”

  He took his eyes off the highway for a moment, glanced over at her and grinned. “Nope.”

  “Can you give me a hint?”

  After a long pause, he finally said, “We’ll be driving for about four hours. Are you comfortable?”

  Four hours? “Yes. Thanks for asking.” His SUV was plenty roomy and must have had good shock absorbers. The ride was incredibly smooth. For some reason, she had thought the place would be local. She had imagined they’d go to Maine or somewhere cheap during the off season. By now she should have realized that Ethan wouldn’t “cheap out” on anything.

  Hopefully he wasn’t taking her to some historic haunted bed and breakfast. “Since we have some time,” she said, “would you mind giving me your opinion on something?”

  He smiled, but didn’t look at her. He seemed to be smiling to himself. “Shoot.”

  “Well, I know Myranda is in a bind as far as having a medium at her occult shop, but I’m not sure I’d be much help to her—even if I learned to control it.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t know what they want half the time. They stare at me, like I’m supposed to hear their thoughts—only I can’t.”

  “Hmmm...”

  He didn’t say anything else for a while, then he chuckled. “Maybe Charlotte can act as interpreter or teach them charades.”

  “But she never leaves your house. Myranda wants me to help out at her shop.”

  “I was kidding. Hey, maybe you can find a way to teach them.”

  “Me? Teach spirits charades?” She laughed.

  “Why not? You’ve never tried to communicate with them. Maybe it’s time to stop running from the ones who show up and find a way to listen to what they have to say. We both know that psychic senses can be developed with practice.”

  She mulled that over for a while. “I guess it would be nice to help others connect with their loved ones.”

  “There you go...”

  “Have you ever communicated with your mother?”

  Ethan fidgeted uncomfortably. “I haven’t tried. I can feel her presence sometimes, but I think she’s just checking in on me. I doubt she’d want to interfere with my life unless I asked or needed her to. She was always respectful of boundaries.”

  “I wish all spirits were respectful of my boundaries.”

  “Do you feel any presences where you live?” He glanced over at her again.

  Was he fishing for more information on her living situation? Come to think of it, he hadn’t asked about it in a while.

  “No. The guest house was added long after the main house was built. I don’t think anyone ever died in either place. Sometimes I see the spirits of animals that passed on the grounds though.”

  “And that doesn’t scare you?”

  “No.”

  Ethan remained silent for a while and she reflected on that revelation. Was it because animals bore no ill will and weren’t a threat? Or that they didn’t expect her to read their minds and relay messages to their owners? “I wish I knew another clairvoyant. I have so many questions.”

  “You don’t know any besides Hanna?”

  “Not really. I already asked her about her gift. She seemed uncomfortable talking about it. I got the feeling she thought
she was different from most mediums.”

  “And Myranda can’t answer those questions?”

  “Not all of them.”

  “Maybe you can find some information online.”

  “Huh. I never thought of that.” She slapped herself upside the head. “Ethan, you’re brilliant.”

  He grinned. “I have my moments.”

  #

  Three hours later, Ethan pulled into the honeymoon resort in the Poconos. He really hoped Brigit wouldn’t freak out over his choice. He had promised her the honeymoon they’d never have, so this seemed appropriate somehow.

  Now he hoped she didn’t think it was too hokey. The suite he’d reserved promised a fireplace, a heart-shaped whirlpool tub, a round bed, a bottle of champagne, and maid service that called with a five minute warning before they arrived. It seemed just right for their needs. Plus it sounded like a lot of fun.

  Ethan stopped at the office and jogged around to open her door. She stepped out of the car and raised her eyebrows as she took in their surroundings. They had stopped at a lodge. Bordered by pine trees, there were private cabins as well as a block of modern townhouses.

  “I hope those are soundproof,” she said, gazing at the townhouse units.

  Ethan laughed. “Judging by the brochure, I’d say they thought of everything.” Then he whispered, “Why? Are you a screamer?”

  She reared back at stared at him for a moment.

  Oh, fuck. Bad joke for someone with endometriosis. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

  She held up one hand. “It’s okay. I knew what you meant. And I trust you won’t do anything to hurt me.” Her gaze dropped to her feet. “At least not on purpose.”

  He pulled her into a warm embrace, tucked her head under his chin and just held her. Words wouldn’t come, but maybe none were needed. She wrapped her arms around him and sighed.

  At that moment someone exited the office and said, “Can’t even wait to check in?”

  They broke apart and chuckled.

  “My name is Mitchell. Can I help by showing you around?”

  “Maybe after we settle in,” Ethan said. Then an idea struck him. “Or maybe you can show Brigit the amenities while I get us checked-in.”

  Thankfully she agreed.

  While she was off with Mitchell, he was able to sign them in the way he’d made the reservation. Mr. and Mrs. Ethan Cox. He still didn’t know what possessed him to hold the room that way. It wasn’t just to avoid raised eyebrows. He doubted anyone in this day and age would give a fig if they were married or not. But was he trying it out?

  While signing his name on the dotted line was no different from any other time, it would have been for Brigit. He wondered what she would have done. Would she protest? Sign her legal name and say nothing? Or write Brigit Cox with a shaking hand?

  He was suddenly relieved that he didn’t have to find out.

  As soon as he had their keys, he sought her out and found her in a common room with ping pong and pool tables. Mitchel was explaining that they held tournaments on Saturday nights, but the guests were usually ‘too busy.’ He elbowed her in the ribs and Ethan wanted to break his arm. Easy, Ethan. You’re a lover, not a fighter, he reminded himself.

  Instead, he came up right next to her and pulled her into a side hug, ignoring Mitchell all together. “Are you ready to see our cabin?” he asked.

  She grinned. “You got one of the cabins?”

  “Yeah. I take it you approve?”

  “Very much so.” She tipped her face up and gave him an unexpected kiss.

  A flare of heat shot through him. He tried to tamp it down quickly so he wouldn’t scare her, give Mitchell more to snicker about, but the sooner they made it to their cabin, the better.

  He picked her up and she squealed. Striding off toward the entrance where he’d left his Jeep, he heard Mitchell chuckling behind them.

  “Can’t even wait ‘til you get to the threshold.”

  * * * *

  Brigit hadn’t seen this side of Ethan, but she was surprisingly okay with it. His manly display made her feel small and delicate. Not to mention valued and cherished.

  He’d set her on her feet beside the car and given her the option of riding or walking to the cabin he pointed out. Third from the last. It was a crisp November afternoon, but she was dressed for it. Her gray cardigan would keep her warm if she fastened a couple of the middle buttons.

  What really surprised her was a deeply rooted longing to be with him. She’d like to walk to the cabin, but with him by her side, holding her hand.

  I guess that’s not an option since the vehicle has to be moved too. “I’ll meet you there,” she said and strode off down the rolling hill. By the time she got there, Ethan had brought in their luggage and met her on the doorstep.

  “Are we doing that threshold thing?” she asked, sounding a little more cynical than she had intended.

  “Not if you don’t want to,” he said and began to back away.

  She sooo wanted to. Brigit placed her hands on her hips and said, “Why not? Am I too heavy?”

  He barked a laugh. “No. You’re not heavy at all, but with all those contradictions in your head, it’s a good thing thoughts don’t add weight.

  Before she could respond, he swept her up into his arms and grinned. She clasped him around his neck and met his gaze, boldly. She wasn’t some innocent who needed convincing. She was giving her body to him freely. Actually asking him to take her over and over again, if necessary. In some ways, she hoped she didn’t get pregnant too soon.

  But she had to wonder...Did he miss serial dating?

  He drove those thoughts right out of her head as he kissed her. Somehow her feet met the floor and she stood with her arms still around his neck, kissing him for all she was worth. Their tongues met and stroked each other.

  He tasted minty. She remembered there had been mints on the registration counter. He must have popped one of those into his mouth as he filled out the paperwork. She wished she’d had one too, but he didn’t seem to care what she tasted like. He was still kissing her just as fervently.

  When they finally broke apart, they were breathing heavily. His eyes held some kind of feral promise. Suddenly shy, she took a step back and refocused on their surroundings.

  The cabin was roomier than it had looked from the outside. There were two closed doors at the back of the large living and dining room, and she imagined one of those would be the bedroom. The focal point was a fireplace that took up most of one wall and a large shaggy rug was laid before it. She imagined in days gone by that might have been where a bear skin would lay, but thankfully they’d gone with a more modern, animal friendly approach.

  A bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and a dozen roses graced the sofa table that backed a large, comfortable couch. She pictured couples finding plenty of places to get horizontal here. There was even a chaise lounge between the window and the fireplace where a couple could find plenty of privacy simply by being closer to the hardwood floor than the window sill.

  “Does it meet with madam’s approval?” Ethan asked.

  “It’s lovely.” Oddly nervous, she asked, “Why don’t I unpack?” and before he could stop her, she strode to the bedroom.

  At least, she thought it was the bedroom, until she opened the door and revealed a tiled room with a heart-shaped bathtub big enough for two—or more. Giggles erupted and turned into gales of laughter.

  Ethan came up behind her and peered into the bath. “Too much?”

  She shook her head, but still couldn’t form words.

  He shrugged. “I didn’t design it...”

  “Oh. I know that.” She whirled around and rested her hands on his solid chest. “I’m sorry. It just struck me funny for some reason. I didn’t mean to laugh.”

  One side of his lips quirked up. “It is kind of cheesy.”

  “No. It looks like fun. Maybe later...”

  “I’m up for anything you are.”

  She gaz
ed at his open, honest face. He wasn’t here to seduce her. He was here to get a job done—at her request. Laughing at the décor was not cool. “I guess the bedroom is over here,” she said, and she strode to the other closed door.

  Upon opening that one, she spied a round bed and mirrored ceiling. She slapped a hand over her mouth and tried to hold it in until Ethan followed her to that doorway. One of them was laughing hysterically. Brigit checked quickly and determined it wasn’t her.

  Ethan leaned against the doorframe wiping tears from his eyes. “Sorry. They didn’t mention a mirrored ceiling in the brochure. Never in all my years as a bachelor have I ever...” He couldn’t continue and just dissolved into chuckles.

  She clasped her hands around his waist. “It’s okay. I know a lot of women have body issues and would freak out, but I’ll be fine. I was leered at enough in Hollywood to become immune.”

  He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. “I wasn’t worried about your body image. Not sure I want to stare at mine though.”

  “Ethan Cox. You’re not critical of your body, are you?”

  “Not usually.” He stared up at the ceiling where the two of them were staring back down. “I’ve never been on display though.”

  “Oh, come on. You’ve probably been to a gym, haven’t you?”

  “Not really.”

  “You’ve never worked out?”

  “I don’t need to. My life is a work-out.”

  “Sheesh. The way you practically bench-pressed me over the threshold...”

  He laughed. “Cut it out. Look, I can deal. I’ll just have to be on top all the time.”

  Her jaw dropped and he grinned. “I’m kidding.”

  Brigit slapped his arm, then realized she was no longer self-conscious. The laughter was just what she had needed to calm her nerves.

  She took his hand and pulled him over to the bed. “Why don’t we try it out?”

  “Now? I thought you wanted to unpack.”

  She reached for his zipper, and said, “Yeah. Let’s unpack.” When she freed him from the prison of his jeans. “And you’re ‘packing’ plenty. Looks like you’re ready to go.”