A Stroke Of Magic

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A Stroke Of Magic Page 20

by Tracy Madison


  “What are you so quiet about over there?” Ethan asked. Strangely, the sound of his voice soothed my jumbled nerves.

  “My crazy family.”

  “Aren’t all families crazy?” he asked.

  I pivoted so I could see him better. Once again, my eyes found that cute cleft in his chin. “Not like mine.” A crack of thunder reverberated overhead, and lightning flashed through the windows. “We could’ve stayed at my place, where it’s dry. Watched a DVD, ordered in Chinese or pizza or something. I should have thought of it.”

  “But then I’d have had to rely on my wicked sense of humor, magnetic personality, and charming repartee to impress you. I’m not sure I could’ve pulled it off.”

  A laugh I’d held back emerged. “Somehow, I don’t think it would have been a problem. You’ve already impressed me.”

  “Well, then, maybe we can do the DVD and Chinese later. After I woo you with my brilliant date-planning techniques,” he teased. “Today, I’m all yours.”

  All mine? For not the first time, I wondered what it would be like to have Ethan in my bed, his hands on me, mine on him, our limbs entwined. An image of the two of us doing just that struck, and a hot rush of desire mixed with longing swarmed over me. I pressed my legs tightly together and forced myself to breathe evenly. My reaction was startling. This was not the time for fantasies—not when Ethan sat so close.

  It was hard to let the image go. Pushing it away the best I could, I asked, “So, no hints on where we’re going?” Not that I really cared, but I hoped it was something laid-back, somewhere we could actually talk to each other.

  “Nope. But you’re free to guess. I’ll tell you if you’re correct.”

  “Hmm.” My mind browsed through the various possibilities. “A movie theater?” He shook his head. “One of Chicago’s fine museums?” Another shake. “Okay, then. I give up.”

  “We’re almost there. I just hope you’re not a poor loser. Because what we’re going to do is something at which I’m exceptional.”

  “Wow, just a little modesty there.” My smile widened to the point that my cheeks hurt.

  “I can always give you some pointers.” His right hand skimmed my knee for just a second. A delicious curl of want licked at me. “In fact, I’d love to give you some pointers.”

  When we pulled into the parking lot of our destination, I laughed again. “Bowling? You are so in trouble. I’m going to kick your butt. I’ll be giving you pointers.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I grew up in a large family. Whenever there was an argument between us kids, my dad would take us bowling.” I grinned. “We had lots of fights, so we spent a lot of time at alleys. You’re so going to lose,” I teased.

  Unfastening his seat belt, his eyes met mine. “So…you’re not disappointed?”

  “Not at all!” I told him. “I think this is the perfect way to spend a rainy few hours.” Well, I could think of one other indoor recreation that I’d also enjoy, but bowling worked well enough. It was casual, fun, and maybe I could squeeze in a few questions between frames.

  “Then let’s get to it. Wait here. I’ll come around with the umbrella.” He did, and we ran inside together, his arm draped lightly around my waist. And guess what? Wind, rain, and gloomy skies did nothing to alter my pleasure or excitement.

  That feeling didn’t change over the next several hours. I won the first the game. He won the second. We were halfway through the third—the tiebreaker—and I still hadn’t managed to ask him anything of merit. But at that moment, I didn’t care. I was having way too much fun.

  “You’re better than I thought you’d be. They have bowling in Ireland?” I asked.

  “No, Alice. Ireland is sadly lacking in bowling alleys, miniature golf courses, and any other types of recreation,” he deadpanned. “A few soda bottles, a rubber ball, and my backyard was the closest thing I had.” He sighed. “It was a difficult youth. You should take pity on me.”

  I couldn’t help it; I laughed. “Nice try, but I’m still going to win.”

  And I did.

  Two hours later, after eating dinner out, we pulled up in front of my condo. “I had a great time with you today. You’re quite the worthwhile opponent,” Ethan said, shutting the car off.

  “I loved today,” I admitted, then hesitated before forging ahead. “It’s still early. Want to come in for a while?” I desperately wanted him to say yes.

  “I was hoping you’d ask. And remember, the romantic date I had planned is still on the table. Maybe we’ll have the weather for it next weekend.”

  “I can’t wait,” I replied.

  But what if everything changed by then? Everything in me only wanted to get to know Ethan better. I wanted to follow my instincts full speed ahead and see where we might end up. Why couldn’t I do that? Why did I have to make some choice based on nothing but a vaguely worded warning? Maybe, regardless of how I’d felt earlier, I didn’t have to? I mean, wasn’t it up to me? This was my love life, after all.

  Ethan followed me inside, but my thoughts were still preoccupied. “Want some tea or something? I think I might have some wine left in the fridge, if you’d like that,” I offered.

  “Nah. I just want to talk to you.” He clasped my hand in his, and pulled me toward the living room. We sat on the couch, and as his arm came around my shoulders, awareness rippled through me. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m good. Really good.” Physically, anyway. But as I looked at him, I saw something simmering below the surface. I found myself wishing he’d tell me exactly what he was thinking, and as the thought whipped through me, a strong shiver followed. I gasped.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, tightening his hold on my shoulders.

  “Um. Yeah.” Even as I spoke, I recognized something had changed. The air between us was charged with unseen bolts of electricity. My heart hammered in my chest, so loudly that I was surprised he didn’t hear.

  He blinked, his long lashes sweeping downward. “I wasn’t going to bring this up yet, because I don’t want to send you running.” A slight twinge of indecision colored his tone, his features. “But maybe I should, just to clear the air.”

  “Um, Ethan? It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”

  The indecision fled. “Actually, it’s better if I do, even if I hadn’t planned on it. Just promise me you won’t run until I say it all.”

  “I won’t run, Ethan. What is it?” I tried to sound confident. I was sure I failed.

  “My feelings for you are stronger than I anticipated.” Shaking his head, as if trying to clear a daze, he continued, “I’ve only felt this way once before, and that didn’t end as I’d hoped. I just want to make sure we’re on the same path here.”

  “And that path is going where?” I probably shouldn’t have asked, because it was my stupidly thought wish that had started this conversation, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know. I needed to know.

  Smoky eyes steadily held mine. “I can’t answer that yet, because neither of us knows what the future holds. But Alice? I’m not interested in other women. I’m only interested in you, and moving forward, and seeing what the future is.” His hand played with my hair. “But you’re about to become a mother, and your life is going to change quickly.”

  “And you’re worried about what, exactly?” Maybe the baby was a deal breaker. I couldn’t blame him if so, but if that was the case, I needed to find out before my heart became further entangled. Before I made any decisions.

  “I’m not asking you to make any promises. I just want to know that, right now, I’m the man you want to spend time with.” I must have looked perplexed, because he sighed. “Let me try this again. Are you dating anyone else right now?”

  At first, a blast of happiness made me more than a little dizzy. Ethan wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him! I opened my mouth to tell him just that, but out of nowhere, Kyle came to mind. Did he count as someone I was dating? Ugh. Not really. Not yet, anywa
y. But what if that changed?

  Deciding to answer the question he’d asked, I said, “At the moment, you’re the only man I’m dating. The only man I even want to date.” Even though that was the truth, I felt as if I’d lied.

  Still, the worry in his gaze disappeared. “I want you to be happy. I hope I make you happy.”

  “You do.” My own worries eased away. In any other circumstance, where a warning from a long-dead relative wasn’t in play, I’d be head over heels by now. Maybe the best thing I could do was grab hold and trust my instincts.

  “Come here,” he growled. His hands tugged at my waist, and he pulled me toward him. I took things a step further, pivoting my body so I was sitting on his lap, my legs on either side of his, facing him. Exactly where I wanted to be.

  One of his hands came up behind me, his fingers threading through my hair, pushing my head forward. His other hand rested on my back. Our lips met, and just like before, everything else melted away. All my worries, thoughts about soul mates, magical mishaps, and the rest of it evaporated. Ethan’s scent wrapped around me, intoxicating. How could this be wrong? And even if it were, I wasn’t so sure I cared.

  His tongue teased at my mouth, plunging in, pulling me deeper into his kiss. The taste of him, the feel of his erection against me sent a wave of desire rolling through my body, so strong and so fast, my head spun. Everything about this man resonated with me, and I didn’t think, I just reacted. My hand tugged his shirt up so I could feel his skin—which was warm, solid, and way too enticing.

  Knowing I was only a few seconds from ripping his shirt all the way off, I groaned and pulled my mouth from his. Resting my cheek on his chest, I heard his heart beating as fast as my own. Our breaths came in ragged, uneven rasps, and his arms closed around me, locking me to him. Neither of us spoke for a while; we just stayed like that, pressed tightly together, waiting for the moment to calm.

  And that was the second I knew something I’d been ignoring for weeks: I was more than attracted to Ethan Gallagher. Somewhere inside, on a gut level, I recognized him. And yeah, I was absolutely positive I was falling in love. Because this feeling? It beat the crap out of what I’d felt for Troy after a full year. Hell, it made all of my other relationships combined seem like a joke.

  I was this close to tossing the warning aside, to letting myself fall in love, when my daughter kicked. And in that small, barely felt kick, all of my fears came rushing back. I was going to be a mother. I owed my daughter the best I could give her, and if for some reason Ethan wasn’t that, what did that make me? Selfish. It made me selfish.

  Separating myself from Ethan’s embrace, I scooted to the side, my eyes not meeting his. Instead, they fell on his arm. At some point, in the midst of our kiss, his sleeve had gotten pulled up, and just below his elbow, on the inside of his arm, was a tiny white scar. “I thought you only had one scar,” I blurted, my fingers touching the mark.

  “Hmm? Oh, that? One of many accidents from my youth. I think that one was from tossing rocks with my friends.”

  “Tossing rocks?” I said lightly, barely daring to hope. “Grandma Verda said something about you only having one scar. On your leg? From glass or something.”

  “What? Oh, that’s right. We had a rather strange discussion about scars and childhood injuries. I only told her the one story because I was on my way out to meet with a client.” Then, as if he realized how odd our current conversation was, he paused. “Are you against scars?”

  Relief flooded me. “Oh, not at all! I’m…curious. So, you have lots of scars?”

  Humor edged his words. “I wouldn’t say lots. Three or four, maybe. Why are you so curious?”

  My mind flashed through all the answers I could give, but I came up blank. Remembering something my sister had said, I went with, “Scars turn me on. You know, they’re hot…and dangerous…and sexy.” I sounded like a loon, but so what? He had more scars. One could be on his shoulder!

  “Every time we have a conversation, I learn a little more about how your mind works. And each and every time, it backs up my first conclusion of you.”

  “Oh yeah? What was that?”

  “Funny, beautiful—and quite unique.”

  Leaning against him, I smiled. “Unique is good.” There were more things about Ethan I wanted to know, but I let them slide away. Because sitting there felt so good, so right, that regardless of what happened in the future, it was a memory to cherish. No way, no how, was I going to screw it up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I wish to draw a picture of Kyle’s wedding day,” I murmured. Maybe, just maybe, it would happen and then I could cancel my lunch meeting with him; after yesterday’s date with Ethan, the image of sitting across from Kyle Ackers for an entire hour didn’t fill me with joy.

  Nothing happened. Not even a zip of energy floated into me. But instead of becoming frustrated, I considered what I knew about the magic. Next, I pulled the limited knowledge I had about precognition together in my mind, which was basically nothing more than what Chloe had shared. That thread from earlier still existed, teasing me, skimming the edge of my awareness. I was absolutely missing something. But what?

  Setting Kyle aside for now, I thought about Ethan. Drawing his future scared me, because if I weren’t in it, I’d be crushed. I’d have no choice then but to seriously consider other alternatives. And while the intelligent way to proceed would be to gather that information as soon as possible, I couldn’t do it. Not yet. Eventually I might not have any choice but to give that a shot, but for now I was skipping it.

  Okay, so if I was too chicken to go down that road, what about Chloe’s? There were similarities between her and Elizabeth. For one, I cared deeply about both of them. For two, both were going through emotional upheaval in their lives.

  Excitement surged inside of me. I was close. So very close. The pieces suddenly seemed to click into place, and the end result was definitely something that made sense. So much so, I almost laughed. I’d been thinking too hard about things. The truth was so simple, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized it before: however my magic worked, it had something to do with my connection to the person, and to something they were experiencing at the time.

  But was I right? No time like the present to find out.

  Gripping my pencil, I thought of Chloe and how much she meant to me. I considered everything she was going through, and how much she needed answers. “I wish to draw a picture of Chloe and the man she marries,” I whispered. The words had barely left my mouth before a swirl of electricity began at my toes. It curled through my body like wildfire, and in an instant, my pencil was moving across the page.

  Oh my God. I’d hoped for this, but I hadn’t actually thought it would happen. Lights and colors danced around me, around the pencil, just like with Elizabeth’s drawing. The power whipped through the air, forceful and solid. And then, out of nowhere, a strong blast of wind hit my face. Okay, that was a new one. The magic undulated through my veins, and as it did, my pencil continued to draw, to shade, to put in detail where none had existed.

  Chloe came into focus first. Her hair was longer, gently sweeping across her shoulders. Her eyes were large, luminous, and her happiness shone through. She wore an informal dress that stopped at the top of her knees. And even though it was just a picture, I could almost see how the dress moved around her like flowing silk. She held a large bouquet of flowers in her hands, and a small crown sat on top of her head as if she were a princess—and the pure beauty of the love I saw in her eyes stole my breath.

  Then it was time to draw the man standing next to her. Would it be Kyle? Scot? Someone else entirely? I didn’t know what to hope for, because while seeing Kyle as her groom would give me a huge amount of peace, I didn’t think he was the man for her any more than I thought he was the man for me. Still unable to breathe, I watched the pencil strokes become smaller, sketching in the fine details of the man’s hair, eyes, nose, mouth, jaw…

  In a giant rush, the energy burst
through me one last time and evaporated. The colors disappeared, the wind stopped blowing, and my hand ceased to move. I stared at the picture, and a tremble not caused by magic crawled along my skin. This drawing was a close-up, featuring only the bride and groom. I couldn’t see any of the room in which they stood, or any of the people around them. They took center stage. And the groom? He wasn’t Kyle. He wasn’t Scot, either. Rather, the handsome man smiling back at me from the page was a complete stranger. At least to me.

  Wow. I didn’t really feel disappointment it wasn’t Kyle, because with Chloe beaming so brightly, how could I possibly be disappointed? Tears dotted my eyes. One blink and they cascaded down my cheeks in a hot rush. My friend was going to find her ever after, and I so couldn’t wait for the day—the one right in front of me—to actually happen.

  With a shaky hand, I reached for the phone. I needed to tell her, right now, so she could come over here and see for herself. She had to see the man, her husband, with her own eyes, so she knew not to focus on Kyle, or to worry about him any longer. But before I could dial the numbers, Miranda shimmered in front of me. No lights or colors, just her glimmering shape, not quite solid.

  With a flick of her hand, my phone tumbled to the ground. “You can’t show her this yet, Alice.”

  I frowned. “Why not? She needs to know, and it will make her so happy.”

  “Because she’s not ready. If you show her this now, everything inside of her will be intent on finding him, but it’s not the right time for them yet. And if she is able to find him now, this path will alter. It will change from the happy day you drew. You don’t want to do that to your friend, do you?”

  “You mean it won’t happen? If she somehow tracks him down tomorrow, this day I just drew will never occur?” My chin dipped downward. I took in the drawing again, and my heart ached.

 

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