A Little Light Magic

by Joy Nash

  He leaned over her, his gaze dropping to her breasts. The tight smile on his face looked more like pain than anything else. “You’re like a dream, Leigh. Like a centerfold.”

  She gave a nervous laugh. “That’s supposed to be romantic?”

  He flashed her a grin. “Sorry.” He turned away to put on a CD. He was back in a heartbeat. He caught her hand, and then, like some character from a book, kissed her fingers. One by one. He caught her gaze over the back of her hand, his beautiful eyes flaring dark.

  He stood and pushed his gym pants over his hips. She sucked in a breath—he’d gone commando under his sweats! She tried not to ogle, but her eyes dropped anyway.

  She couldn’t not look at him.

  She stared. Jason’s penis was huge and red and ugly, with a bulging purple vein running down one side. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. Suddenly, a scrap of lace and dental floss seemed a pretty flimsy barrier between her virginity and Mr. Red.

  The thought made her giggle.

  Jason took a step toward the bed. Mr. Red bobbed.

  It looked way too big to fit.

  Not a comforting thought. But, really, it couldn’t be true. When had she ever heard of a guy’s thing not fitting?

  Never, that was when.

  She lowered her lashes and made another surreptitious appraisal of Jason’s package. When you got right down to it, a penis was a truly ridiculous-looking appendage. A baseball bat with a misshapen knob on top.

  It was just the same color as Tori’s love spell candle.

  The giggles hit again.

  Jason’s expression cooled a bit. He looked less like a lover and more like a confused puppy. A naked confused puppy.

  It was too much. Leigh struggled to keep the laughter down, she really did, but she truly couldn’t help it. She was too wound up, too nervous. She giggled again, then laughed outright.

  Jason frowned. “What’s so funny?”

  Leigh clamped her hand over her mouth, biting down on her bottom lip so hard she was sure she tasted blood. Jason looked really annoyed, and she couldn’t blame him. She had to stop laughing. She really had to.

  She couldn’t.

  “Shit,” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “Nothing,” she gasped.

  “It’s not nothing.”

  “I’m sorry.” She struggled to keep another bubble of laughter from bursting.

  “I thought you wanted this, Leigh.” His voice quavered a bit.

  Leigh’s laughter ebbed. “I do. You know I do.”

  And she did. She really did. The trouble was, she wasn’t sure if she wanted it right here, right now.

  But she didn’t know how to tell that to Jason.

  The mattress dipped under his weight. He rolled toward her, pulling her into his arms. Her breasts rubbed against the blond curls on his chest. His legs slid between hers.

  Every part of her touched every part of him. Skin-to-skin. She could smell his deodorant, even taste the sweat on his skin; they were that close.

  Too close.

  He nuzzled her breast. Kissed her nipple. She grabbed fistfuls of his quilt to keep herself from pushing him away. What was wrong with her? She was acting like a little girl. After all, her virginity was no big deal. It was a liability, actually. Something to get out of the way.

  All her friends had done it. Even Stacey. There was nothing to it. All she had to do was lie back and let Jason do his thing. It wasn’t his first time. He knew what he was doing.

  He left her breast to kiss her lips again. Leigh concentrated on that. It was nice. Familiar. She loosened her death grip on the quilt, forcing herself to skim her hands up Jason’s chest. She linked them at the back of his neck.

  His full weight came down on her. He kissed her neck, her shoulder. He was breathing harder now, his skin shiny with sweat. Mr. Red was prodding her thigh.

  She tried not to think about that. At least, not yet. She thought about Jason’s mouth, his lips. He was a fantastic kisser, and he was really getting into things. He threaded both hands through her hair and held her head steady while he explored her mouth with his tongue.

  She sighed and relaxed a little. It felt good. Her apprehension receded. She could do this. He left her mouth and kissed his way down her neck to her breasts. He caught one nipple in his mouth and suckled gently.

  She gasped and arched a little ways off the bed. This was good, too. Very good. She cradled his head against her breast, feeling sexy and womanly. And there was an added bonus. In order to reach her breast with his mouth, he’d had to scoot down her body. Mr. Red was no longer jabbing her thigh like a blunt-tipped fireplace poker.

  He nuzzled her cleavage and dipped his fingers inside her thong.

  She tensed. “Jason—”

  “Shhh…” He eased the thong over her hips. Over her thighs. Over her calves.

  Oh, God. Now she was completely naked, and Jason was looking at her with an expression she’d last seen on a trip to the zoo—in the wolf habitat. He lowered himself on top of her again, kissing her, touching her everywhere.

  “I want you so much, Leigh.” He covered her mouth and kissed her again, harder, deeper. Mr. Red was back, harder and hotter than before. If that were even possible.

  “I love you, Leigh. You know that, don’t you?”

  She couldn’t breathe.

  She remembered the condoms.

  “Jason?”

  “Hmmm…?”

  “I…I don’t want to get pregnant. I can’t get pregnant. My dad would freak. We have to use a…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. Oh, God. Why hadn’t she brought this up when they both had all their clothes on?

  “Condom,” he said, pulling back a little.

  “Do you have one? Because if you don’t, I have a couple in my jacket.”

  “You brought condoms?” His eyes registered surprise and more than a little amusement. “You didn’t need to. I’ve got some.”

  “Oh.”

  “Leigh. I told you not to worry, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah,” she said, feeling foolish. “You did.”

  He leaned across her and yanked open the drawer of his nightstand. He fumbled in the clutter and emerged with a square packet. Sitting back on his heels, he ripped it open and rolled it on.

  Mr. Red became Mr. White.

  Leigh supposed she should have felt relieved, but somehow she didn’t. Jason’s equipment seemed even more menacing now that it was sheathed. He crawled back to her on all fours like a big, deadly cat.

  She stared up at the ceiling and saw a New Jersey Nets poster.

  And that was when she knew she couldn’t go through with it.

  She didn’t want this. She loved Jason, and he loved her, but this didn’t feel right. It wasn’t enough. She wanted something different.

  She wanted pink satin sheets and champagne, in a fancy hotel room.

  Not a blue cotton quilt in a teenage boy’s bedroom.

  She wanted to wake up in the morning to room service and breakfast in bed. Not to sneak back into her house in the dead of the night. She wanted a fourposter bed with a frilly canopy. Not the New Jersey Nets.

  She wanted to be a woman making love to a man.

  Not a girl fooling around with her boyfriend.

  Jason slid his knee between her legs and parted them. He kissed her, their tongues touching. His arousal prodded her, poised at the entrance to her body.

  She braced her hands on his shoulders. “Jason.”

  “Easy. It won’t hurt. I promise.” He flexed his hips. “No!” Leigh wriggled, trying to stall his forward progress. “No, Jason, stop. I don’t want this.”

  “You’re just scared. Relax. It’ll be good.”

  “No.” But the word was absorbed by Jason’s kiss. She twisted her head and shoved as hard as she could on his shoulders. “No,” she said, louder. “No.”

  When he tried to kiss her again, something snapped. She thrashed, pounding him with her fists.

>   “Shit.” He caught her wrists in his hands. “Leigh, baby, stop it! What’s gotten into you? What’s wrong?”

  She couldn’t look at him. “I told you, I don’t want this, Jason.”

  He levered himself up. “You gotta be kidding me. You said you did. I thought you wanted this as much as I do.”

  She could hardly look him in the eye. “I…I haven’t been honest. I don’t want it. Not really. At least, not…now. It’s…it’s too soon for me. I’m not ready.”

  His eyes showed his hurt. And his anger. “Hell of a time to let me in on it.”

  “Jason, I’m—”

  He shoved himself off the bed and rolled the condom off his wilting erection. “I asked you down in the kitchen. I told you, if you weren’t ready, just to tell me.”

  “I know, Jason, and I’m so—”

  His palm slapped the dresser. “Don’t say it, Leigh. Just don’t. I don’t think I can stand an apology right now.” He flung the unused condom in the trash. “Shit.”

  He stood with his back to her, arms braced on his dresser, head bowed. He didn’t move for the longest time.

  Leigh’s stomach did a nauseating dive. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I…I shouldn’t have let things go this far. I should have told you how I felt.”

  “Yeah. You should have. You should have trusted me. But you don’t trust me, do you?”

  He pulled on his sweats and shirt without looking at her. When he was dressed, he found her clothes and dropped them at the foot of the bed. She felt very small, lost on his big bed.

  “Jason—”

  “Get dressed, Leigh.” He headed for the door. “I’ll walk you home.”

  Three a.m. was a hell of a time to be walking the beach.

  Nick came to a halt at the water’s edge. He stood for a time, looking out to the horizon. He could just spot the thin line where the gray of the ocean met the lighter gray of the sky. A steady wind blew into his face, smelling of damp and brine. No sense going to bed. He had to be up for work in two hours.

  God. Had he gotten Tori pregnant tonight?

  He imagined her stomach, round with his child. He thought about how it would be to feel the baby kick against his palm. The past seventeen years flashed through his mind—every good and bad moment of Leigh’s life, it seemed, played in one exhilarating, frightening rush. His throat tightened; his heart sped up. He forced a deep breath and swallowed.

  He was scared shitless.

  Because Tori might be pregnant, and if she was, the roller coaster would start all over again, and he’d be on it. And just like before, Nick’s relationship with his child’s mother wouldn’t be solid.

  As if it could ever be. Truth was, he sucked at relationships. If he could gather every woman he’d ever slept with together in one room, he had no doubt that every single one of them would agree that their breakup was his fault.

  He couldn’t handle the emotions, the upheaval, the tears. He’d withdrawn from Cindy emotionally even before Leigh arrived, using every excuse to bury himself in his work. He’d been playing the same game ever since, and truth be told, in all those years of meaningless sex, no woman had ever made him want to change his ways.

  Until Tori.

  He picked a pebble off the beach and threw it into the ocean as far as he could. He didn’t see it land, didn’t hear the splash. When had being with Tori stopped being about sex? He hadn’t seen the change coming, hadn’t noticed when it happened. But now that it had, he recognized what he felt for her as something beautiful and fragile. Something he wanted to nurture and watch grow.

  But Tori kept forcing his hand.

  A baby. Jesus. It was too soon.

  Even so, it hurt that Tori hadn’t wanted his baby. That she hadn’t been willing to wait until they could figure out what was happening between them. No, she wanted to be a mother right away, and it seemed any man’s child would do.

  The end run of a wave surged past him. It sucked sand from beneath his bare feet as it retreated. He felt like going with it, flinging himself into the sea and swimming until he was exhausted. But he didn’t, of course. That would be irresponsible, and he was never that.

  He turned and trudged across the sand, heading home.

  At the edge of the dune, he caught the glimpse of a shadow moving on his porch, beyond the seawall. He came to a halt, watching as a dark form caught hold of what looked like a rope dangling from Leigh’s balcony. The figure hoisted itself up onto the stone pier supporting the second floor.

  “Hey!” He started to run.

  The intruder froze. Reaching the edge of the beach, Nick heaved himself over the seawall. The figure came to life, grabbing for Leigh’s porch rail.

  He threw himself after it. “Stop!” His hand closed on the intruder’s ankle. “Stop, or I swear, I will pull you down and break every bone in your body.”

  “Daddy, don’t! It’s me.”

  “Leigh?” He nearly fell over.

  “Yeah.”

  He jumped down to the patio. Leigh clung to the pier, one hand gripping the stone, the other wrapped around a rope hanging from her balcony rail. What in God’s name was she doing?

  Then it hit him.

  She’d sneaked out, and now she was sneaking back in. And there was only one place—one person—she could’ve gone to.

  He saw red. “Get down here.”

  “Dad—”

  “Now, Leigh.”

  She scrambled down, eyes on the ground.

  “Look at me.”

  She turned sullen eyes on him, her arms hugging her waist.

  “You were with Jason.” He wondered how the hell his voice could sound so deadly calm.

  Her chin lifted. “So what if I was?”

  He felt like punching something. “Goddamn it, Leigh. I told you to stay away from that kid. Now you’re screwing him behind my back?”

  “Would you prefer to watch?”

  Nick stared at her, stunned past all belief. This was his little girl? With a mouth like that? Rage slammed him like a rogue wave.

  “Get out of my sight,” he bit out. “Get into the house this minute, young lady, if you know what’s good for you.”

  Leigh hesitated, opening her mouth as if to reply.

  “Not a word,” he raged. “Not one. I’m warning you, Leigh.”

  His daughter’s eyes widened in real fear. She turned and fled.

  Nick followed much, much later.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  No father wants to contemplate the loss of his daughter’s virginity.

  “You missed a great show last night,” Johnny said, plucking a “Scorpio” scroll from the astrology display. He picked at the tape holding it closed with his thumbnail. “You really shoulda heard Ma sing.”

  It wasn’t even six a.m. yet. Tori had been gritty-eyed and grumpy when she’d answered the doorbell. She was sure her eyes were rimmed red from all the crying she’d done in lieu of sleeping.

  Johnny had taken one look at her, frowned, and had promptly launched into a stream of upbeat banter. It did nothing to improve her mood. The jittery energy coming off him told her he hadn’t been to bed, either. She hoped his night had gone better than hers.

  He flicked his wrist, unraveling the horoscope scroll like a streamer.

  “Those are for paying customers, you know,” she told him.

  “I’m good for it.” He fished out his wallet and slapped a five on the counter. “Keep the change.”

  She slid the bill back to him. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. Did you?”

  “No.”

  His eyes dropped to his horoscope, and for a moment, he looked as if he were reading it. “So,” he said at length. “What happened between you and my ever-so-charming big brother after he whisked you away last night?”

  Tori didn’t want to go there. “Not much. Tell me more about Rita’s debut.”

  Johnny shot her a hard look, but didn’t call her on her transparen
t change of subject. “Ma was incredible. She can hit a high C like no one’s business. The audience loved her.”

  “That’s wonderful. Was anyone else from the family there?”

  He grinned. “Just Nonna. After Alex picked up Sophie and drove Leigh home, I went around to Nonna’s and talked her into being my date. Guess what? After all the complaining, she got a real charge out of Ma’s set. Hollered louder than anyone when it was over.”

  Tori smiled, picturing it. “I wish I could’ve been there.”

  Johnny caught her gaze. “You could’ve been. You know, when I drove by Nick’s this morning and saw his truck in the driveway, I was surprised. I thought he’d’ve spent the night here with you.”

  “Well, he didn’t.”

  “Hey.” He abandoned the horoscope and picked up her hand. “Are you sure you’re okay? What did you and Nick…Well, no, wait. On second thought, spare me the details of what you and Nick did or didn’t do. Unless I need to hunt him down and kill him.”

  “You don’t,” Tori told him, tugging her hand out of his grip.

  He was silent for a moment. Then, “Bullshit. At the minimum, I should beat the living crap out of him. You want to talk about it?”

  Tori sighed. Why was it that Johnny always knew when to push, and Nick never did? Better yet, why was it that Johnny seemed so in tune with her moods, when Nick was the one who tied her heart in knots?

  Easy answer. She didn’t love Johnny. She loved Nick.

  But, damn it, she needed someone to talk to.

  “All right. You win. I guess I’m just…confused.”

  “A little more than confused, I’d say. But that’s a start. What exactly don’t you understand?”

  “Well, for one thing,” she began, “that kiss you gave me last night. Was it real?”

  Johnny abruptly rediscovered the horoscope scroll. “What do you think?”

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t ask.”

  He drew a breath, then caught her eye and grinned. His hand went to his heart. “Macey Lark, you wound me. Dr. Gavin Hunter must not be much of a kisser.”