Something Magical (Witches of Hawthorne Grove Book 1)

by Leighann Dobbs

  She hadn't said more than two words since he'd closed the door on his Dodge after helping her inside back at her apartment, and those were just a quickly muttered, “Thank you.” Had she been using the quiet time during their ride to figure out a way to tell him she wouldn't be seeing him again?

  Jordan ran a hand over his face and forced himself to concentrate on the road. It wasn't easy, what with his thoughts racing around in his head like an over-anxious schoolgirl before her first date, chanting a single, vastly important question with every turn: How would Daniel Sutton's return to Hawthorne Grove affect his and Kaylee's budding relationship?

  Surprisingly, not ten minutes later, when she slid out of the truck and followed him around to the side door to wait while he unlocked it so they could go inside, the first words out of Kaylee's mouth were an accusation. “You were trying to make him angry, weren't you? Those little digs about your wealth and fame—those were intentional, meant to make him feel inferior—or to make you feel superior.”

  “No, I made him angry,” Jordan corrected, suddenly bristling at her tone. Flipping on the lights as he led her through the mudroom and kitchen to his living room, he continued, “There was no try to it, and yes, there is a difference. I did it on purpose, which was more than you did. I guess his showing up out of the blue like that had you rattled?”

  Woof!

  Sarge ran in from the other room to greet them and Jordan leaned down to give him a pat, glad for a little distraction … and affection.

  “I was paying attention. So you admit you made him mad on purpose—but why? Is that some kind of man thing? You wanted to feel superior, right? To feel like you were better than him? You were rude, Jordan.”

  Sarge nosed Kaylee's hand, looking up at her with big brown eyes that encouraged her to do some petting of her own, which she did, but only half-heartedly as her focus was still on the argument she was currently having with Jordan.

  “Yes, well, you weren't. I figured one of us should be. The creep dumped you virtually on the eve of your wedding, then has the nerve to try and waltz back into your life like nothing happened? Four years, Kaylee! He's been out of your life for four years, and now—” Jordan squeezed his eyes closed for a second, then shrugged out of his coat. He tossed it, his keys, and the movies he'd rented for them to watch this weekend onto the coffee table. “Make yourself comfortable. I'll get food started.”

  She followed him back into the kitchen, Sarge trotting along behind her. “Again, I want to know why?”

  Jordan shrugged and rubbed at his neck and growled low, from somewhere in the back of his throat. Why was this happening? Especially tonight? The last thing he wanted right now was to be fighting with her. “I was—feeling him out, I suppose, alright? Anger is not the same as jealousy, you know, and I wanted to see which one he displayed in relation to you.”

  Her head was cocked at that jaunty angle, tilted slightly to one side while she peered up at him, a thousand questions swimming in her beautiful eyes. “Because you want me to think you're jealous, right? Because of my reaction to the visit from your ex-girlfriend today?”

  “No! No, Kaylee, it was because of my reaction to your visit, the one from your ex-fiance. You remember him, right? The man you were going to marry? The man you once loved? Big difference between your relationship with him and mine with Stacy Blaut, Kaylee, and regardless of what you choose to believe, I reacted exactly the way I did to your...your friend Daniel because I am jealous!” He stopped and turned to stare at her. “Don't you see? He was there, Kaylee. He was there, before me, and he—he had a big part of your life all to himself, while I—”

  Biting back a string of curses, he stopped again, then shook his head. “He hurt you, Kaylee. So bad you still can't enjoy the promise of a happily ever after in at least one romantic movie that I know of, and from the sound of things, he's looking for an easy way back into your life so he can do it all over again.”

  Jordan went to the fridge, scrambling around inside, looking for something, anything to pull out but came back empty-handed instead. She had him tangled up in knots and this whole thing with Daniel was making him say things without thinking them through. Everything suddenly felt chaotic and out of order and now she had a happy little glow in her eyes, the kind that was making his stomach do somersaults.

  “You think he wants me back? And if he does, what makes you think he would hurt me again?”

  His eyes narrowed. Was she insane? Only an idiot wouldn't... “I would! Want you back, I mean, not hurt you.”

  Slamming the refrigerator door shut with a quick kick, Jordan turned to try and explain. His reasons for trying to do so didn't make sense, even to him, but he needed her to understand. “Kaylee, love—real love—it isn't—it isn't like what I suspect your Daniel has in mind, at least not this time.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean—it's not something you fall in and out of, you know? And when you're in it, you damn sure don't disappear for four years, then show up one day out of the blue hoping to pick up where you left off. If you're in it, you're in it for good. When it's real, you never come out. You might wish you could turn it off once in a while when you're in pain, when you're hurting, but...”

  “Says Dr. Romance himself,” Kaylee scoffed. Pushing past him, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a stalk of celery, which she promptly bit into. “You're speaking from experience, I suppose. Was it Stacy? Were you in love with her?”

  “I thought I was, but as it turned out, it was more like I was in convenience with her, Kaylee. I needed someone and she was there. She was great at social functions, business dinner schmoozing, things like that. We lived together. I thought I loved her. It was easier for her to be nearby.”

  She stared at him, one eyebrow arched high in question. “Did you sleep with her?”

  Jordan groaned. He knew he could lie and deny it, but what would that say about the kind of man he was? Still, he was afraid if he told her the truth she would walk away ...

  “Does it matter? You asked me if I loved her and the truth is no. I was never in love with Stacy Blaut and she was never in love with me.”

  Eyes narrowed, Kaylee propped on the back of one of his dining chairs, one hand on her hip, the other motioning pointedly toward him with the stalk of celery while Sarge sat on the floor beside her, his eyes ping-ponging between the two of them, stopping now and again to look hopefully at the celery. “How do you know?”

  This was the question she'd been trying to get to, the only one that was really important—for him and for her. Did he know what love was? Was he sure he understood? Because after everything she had been through with Daniel, Kaylee didn't think she could handle uncertainty on his part. If he wasn't sure ...

  She watched him carefully, ignoring the way her heart was fluttering in her chest while she waited, almost without breathing, to see how he would answer. He seemed so shook up. It was kind of cute, a little sexy, but at the same time, it was pretty terrifying. Was she really ready for this? There was no time to debate the question because he was already answering.

  “I know because I never felt for her the things I feel for you, Kaylee Dean. Not. Even. Close.”

  There was real emotion in the husky sound of his words but it was the fierce, burning look in his eyes that took her breath away. She almost dropped her celery. “Jordan? Are you saying you love me?”

  His eyes closed for a moment then popped open again. “I'm definitely saying I think your ex-fiance doesn't love you. Maybe he loves the idea of having you in his life again, but—he came back for something, Kaylee.”

  Kaylee couldn't deny she'd felt a little pinch of disappointment when he didn't immediately say yes, but then, this whole day had been filled with so many emotional ups and downs she also couldn't say she wasn't relieved to not have to deal with a full-on confession of his undying love. “And you think he came back for me—but you don't think I should take him?”

  His expression becam
e guarded. “Would you?”

  There was such a wealth of carefully unspoken inquiry in his question Kaylee didn't have to wonder if the idea of her getting back with Daniel bothered him. It was a strange moment, one where her entire world seemed precariously balanced upon her answer while for Jordan, his question represented a ledge—one from which he was fully prepared to jump if he did not like what her answer revealed.

  “Would you, Kaylee?”

  Unable to bear the dread creeping into his gaze, she shook her head. “No.”

  Both his hands flew out, arms spread wide, and he stared at her, his jaw slack with amazement. “Then why are we even having this crazy conversation?”

  Kaylee tilted her head and peered up at him, as if seriously considering his question. Finally, she grinned, letting him know he was off the hook for the moment. “Because you're sexy when you're all riled up like that?”

  Jordan groaned and held out his hands, wiggling his fingers in an invitation to curl hers around them. “Teasing me, were you?”

  The look in her eyes all promise, she shook her head and moved close to him, stopping only when she could no longer move forward. She reached up to twine her arms around his neck. “No, but I am about to.”

  Her chin tilted upward and she knew he had to have felt her breath catch as easily as she had heard his swiftly indrawn, but without breaking eye contact, he held his arms straight out from his body, refusing to touch her.

  Kaylee frowned. “Jordan, what the heck do you think you are you doing?”

  “A promise is a promise,” he reminded her.

  “Right.” Kaylee struggled to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She tightened her arms around his neck. “So, if you're not going to ravish me, what are we going to do now that you've got me home with you, Jordan H. Parker—Forbes famous ex-CEO and billionaire?”

  “Dinner? Movies?” He tilted his head. “Actually, I just had the perfect idea.”

  Her brow rose. “Oh?”

  Jordan nodded. “A swim in the lake behind the house.”

  “Are you crazy? The water's probably freezing out there!”

  He shrugged. “A shower then, preferably icy cold.”

  “I don't think I understand.”

  “Strings, Kaylee. I promised no strings, but every time you get near me, I'm the one who gets tied in knots.”

  “Hmm,” she murmured, leaning into him before rising up on her tip-toes to kiss his chin. “You know, that's why I started a pet grooming business.”

  Sarge must have heard the word pet because he came trotting over and nosed first Kaylee then Jordan before trying to wriggle his way between them.

  Jordan frowned. “Ah, unfortunately I am not a dog, in case that slipped your notice.”

  Kaylee chuckled. “No, you are definitely not a dog, but maybe there's a little bit of animal in you? My clients tell me I'm pretty darn handy at unraveling things.”

  Chapter 16

  The bell over the shop's door jingled melodically, signaling the arrival of what she thought was today's 214 but Esmerelda Seville was neither available for nor prepared to greet her customer.

  “Quilt, quilt, where is the dang quilt?” she muttered while digging through every nook and cranny, both material and magical, of Seville's Antiquities and Collectibles for the black-and-white checkered coverlet Serephina had set aside in anticipation of this very moment. Her hair was completely disheveled, her clothes looked slept in—which wasn't true at all—she'd left them pooled on the floor beside the bed exactly where they had fallen last night, and her focus was off. But she was here, and she was determined to deliver the quilt she'd arguably skipped a trip to NYC to deliver... only she could not find the thing.

  Riffling quickly through the only chest she hadn't yet searched, she growled her annoyance to the mostly empty shop, mumbling, “Serephina is going to kill me! Where is the blasted quilt?”

  “Maybe if you had been home last night instead of slipping off to consort with the enemy, you'd have gotten my text telling you I put the quilt in your room.”

  Serephina's voice was as cold as chipped ice, and Esmerelda would bet her eyes reflected more of the same. She froze, lifted her hands from the chest, closed it, and then stood, slowly wiping her hands together as she turned to face her sisters with what she hoped was a calm expression. Ignoring both the not-so-veiled reference to Serephina's guess about where she'd been last night and the cutting look of accusation in her sister's gaze, Esmerelda forced her breathing to resume, encouraged her suddenly heightened heart rate to slow to a more normal rhythm, and casually propped her hands on her hips. Offering up a wide smile of welcome, she said, “Well! You two are home early.”

  Taking a chance the simple greeting would be enough, she started forward toward the front of the shop and the stairs. If the quilt was in her room, she needed to get back there and get it before the lady who was coming here to pick it up arrived. All she had to do was get past her sisters.

  She'd taken maybe three steps before a thick, soft bundle of sweetly fragrant cloth hit her in the face, blocking her vision and her path. On the other side of it, Mortianna's words were as forceful as the hand she was using to shove the previously missing quilt into Esmerelda's hands.

  “Go on without me. I'll take care of everything. It'll be fine! You've got nothing to worry about! Well, Merry, maybe you'd like to explain how Jordan and Kaylee managed to miss their flight? Or, you could tell us how you reacted when you discovered Stacy Blaut was no longer in New York, but visiting her old buddy Jordan Parker here in good old Hawthorne Grove? I would love to hear that!”

  Reaching up with both hands, Esmerelda pulled the checkered fabric out of Mortianna's grasp to cradle it carefully in her own arms, trying to ignore both her sisters' furious gazes and the way her fingers were shaking while she smoothed them over the delicate cloth. Miss Blaut was in Hawthorne Grove?

  “Or, just for fun,” Mortianna added, continuing with a narrow-eyed glare, “why don't you give us the full story, recounting everything that happened when, after four years of absence, Daniel Sutton suddenly showed up at Kaylee Dean's front door?”

  Esmerelda could literally feel her skin losing color and she opened her mouth to ask when all of this had happened—she would carefully ignore the question of how her sisters knew it had—but, apparently, Mortianna wasn't finished.

  “It must be quite an amusing tale, the story of how both our charges ex's managed to arrive in Hawthorne Grove both without our knowing and on the one day when Feeny and I just happened to be out of town, magically stranded because we were hundreds of non-magical miles away!”

  Esmerelda's mouth worked, but no words came out. If everything her sister had said were true, they could be in big trouble with the CHG. Worse, it was all her fault, and she knew it.

  Guilt, the same strain which had been simmering inside her over her hastily made choice since yesterday, slowly heated to a mortifying boil, but Mortianna didn't seem to care.

  “Twenty seven years, Esmerelda! Twenty seven years! We've managed to get through two point seven decades without making mistakes like this, and now—how could you?”

  The tearful accusation in her sister's eyes and voice heaped more guilt onto the fire of embarrassment and remorse already burning inside her, until...

  How could she?

  Esmerelda's back went stiff with indignation. For the past twenty seven years—since the day all three of them had agreed to a binding contract with the CHG—Mortianna had done her level best to screw up everything Serephina and herself tried to do to honor it. And now she was pointing fingers? Her chin came up and she leveled a narrow-eyed glare on her sibling. One brow arched high—almost as high as the anger that had suddenly blown up to replace the guilt she'd been feeling over the possibly disastrous repercussions her choice had created—and opened her mouth again to remind Mortianna of just how many mistakes she and Serephina had fielded for her when Mortianna sighed, gave an almost piteous shake of her head, a
nd asked, “How could you do this, Merry?”

  It was something in her tone that clued Esmerelda in.

  Locking gazes with Mortianna, she finally caught the tiny spark of warning almost hidden in her eyes that seemed to scream keep-your-mouth-shut-and-follow-my-lead. Relief mingled with suspicion over whatever Mortianna was attempting to do and she became suddenly wary. This was just the sort of situation she generally tried to avoid. Should she keep silent and let whatever little game Mortianna was playing with Serephina play itself out? Or should she just step up and take responsibility for her actions, admit she'd wanted them to go to NYC and leave her behind? That she'd ignored her responsibilities to Mr. Parker and Miss Dean to slip away and enjoy at least one night of …

  No, no, no she could practically hear Mortianna screaming in her head. Admit nothing and deny everything was Morty's motto and was more often than not her go-to piece of advice. But Esmerelda was back to feeling guilty over what she'd done—although she still wasn't exactly clear on just how much that entailed—and she wasn't sure she could make herself keep quiet in such a potentially wired for destruction situation like this.

  “Mortianna, I—”

  “Should concentrate, Merry,” Serephina all but ordered. “We've a customer at the door. We can discuss this later, and yes, we will discuss what you've done. For now, however, let's get that glamour up and greet the lady of the morning with a smile.”

  Relieved to put off the inevitable, if only for a few minutes more, Esmerelda turned and fled the storeroom, determined to at least get the delivery of the quilt right. It may not be much, but it was one less mistake to be laid at her door if they had to face the CHG.

  Kaylee woke to a stream of warm, pale blue light spilling across her face from the window of one of Jordan's spare bedrooms. Stretching, she swiped her hands across the covers and her palm brushed something hard. The snow globe. She didn't know why, but she'd tucked it into her coat pocket last night before she'd slipped past Daniel and out of her apartment to wait for Jordan outside.