Magic and Mayhem: Reapercussions (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Poppy Carlyle Chronicles Book 1)

by Boone Brux

  A frustrated breath squeezed from me and I punched the steering wheel. Even if he did get to know me, things wouldn’t work out with us. He was a Shifter and I wasn’t. No, not even close. I was something entirely different. Something I doubted even Jax Jackson would be able to handle.

  Chapter Two

  Shampoo. That’s all that was printed in bold black letters on the front of the bottle. No fancy label touting its revolutionary ability to make my hair sparkle like diamonds, or mend my split-ends. Nothing about smelling like a summer breeze or tropical paradise. Evidently, its only claim-to-fame was the ability to clean my hair.

  I hefted the fifty-ounce bottle off the shelf and held it over my head. “Lurleen, are you ever going to get name brand shampoo in here? You’re killing me with this generic stuff.”

  “What are you complaining about, Poppy Carlyle? You could wash your hair in pickle brine, and it would look beautiful,” the old woman hollered from the front of the grocery store. “You must have gotten those locks from your daddy because everybody on your mama’s side either has Brillo-brush hair or none at all.”

  Sadly, it was true. Most of the women on my mom’s side looked like they’d been molested by hostile sagebrush. I never met my father, and nobody spoke much about him—at least not around me—so I’d always assumed he’d been human. Where I come from, marrying a human was a shameful secret that was only talked about after the moonshine had loosened everyone’s manners and tongues.

  I dropped the bottle into my basket and then added a matching container of conditioner. That should hold me for another six months. After chucking a box into my basket that simply read tampons and another plain white carton that said soap, I headed to the breakfast aisle.

  The bell over the front door jangled, but I couldn’t see who came in because I was in the back of the shop. Our small town is great for Shifters, but not so nice for humans. For example, locals know the fresh produce and good stuff is kept in the back of the store, but all humans see if they stop to shop was the decoy food, shriveled apples, moldering lettuce, and a few dusty canned goods. One look and they keep moving. It’s for the best. In general, paranormal beings are a little unstable and odd. I speak from experience.

  “Morning, Jax,” Lurleen said.

  “Morning.” His smooth voice warmed me like southern bourbon.

  My heartbeat quickened, and I craned my neck to see over the shelves, but the jumbo size boxes of cereal blocked my view. His family’s compound sat miles out of town, so why was he here? In the same store—same space—as me? I crouched and peered between the containers of oatmeal. Jean-clad legs and brown hiking boots were all I could see. They looked ridiculously good. Wow, desperate much? I stood and inched my way to the end of the aisle to get a better view. At this point, I wasn’t sure I wanted him to know I was in the store. Too awkward.

  “You back in town to stay?” Lurleen asked.

  “That’s the plan,” he said.

  “Living back at the compound?” she pushed.

  Go, Lurleen. We’re a gossipy lot and feel we have the right to know everybody else’s business. With all the butt sniffing and territory marking that goes on around here, I’d venture it’s more of a Shifter thing than a southern habit.

  “No, I bought the place across the street. It’s my new office. There’s an apartment upstairs I’m redoing.”

  “Well, isn’t that nice.” Her voice dripped with honey, which meant she didn’t think him living away from his pack, or pride, or whatever you call a group of mountain lion Shifters was nice at all. “What did your daddy say about that?”

  Jax set a case of water on the counter. “I didn’t ask him.”

  “Well, that’s interesting.” Lurleen’s lips puckered in disapproval for a second before giving him a strained smile. “You said you bought the building across the street? What kind of office are you opening?” She ran the bar scanner over the code. “Is it for your family’s construction business?”

  “Actually,” I said, stepping from behind the shelf, striding toward them. Surprise flashed on his face for a split second, but his mask of indifference quickly replaced it. “Jax is here to keep everybody in line.”

  His gaze drank me in from head to toe. A shiver of awareness rippled through me, but I held my girlish delight in check. My step faltered for a second, but I recovered because I’m cool…and totally collected around men. Not.

  Her brow pinched together. “And how do you plan to do that?”

  “I’ve brokered a security contract for the county.” His eyes never left me. “Washington felt they needed a little reassurance that everybody is behaving themselves out here.”

  “Well,” I set my basket on the counter. “I can’t think of a better man to…handle us.” I gave him an innocent smile, but inside I high-fived myself for my witty banter. “And you’ve already been on the job.”

  “Your change,” Lurleen said. “I just hope you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew.” She laid the money in his hand and closed the register drawer. “Sticking your nose in other people’s business can be dangerous.”

  That seemed a little hypocritical coming from one of the foremost gossips in a hundred-mile radius.

  “I can handle myself,” he said.

  “I’m sure you can,” I said. What was it about being around him? Every thought I had popped right out of my mouth before I thought about it. “I mean, with all the training you’ve probably had.” Nice recovery, Poppy. I shoved the basket toward Lurleen. “Anyway, it’s good to have you back.”

  “Thanks, Poppy.” The way he said my voice made my bones turn to jelly. Jax scooped the case of water off the counter, gave me a long look, then tipped his head toward Lurleen. “Ladies.”

  With that, he left. The breath eased from me, and Lurleen let out a long whistle. “There goes one fine looking man.”

  “You can say that again.” Digging in my pocket, I grabbed the wad of ones and pulled them out. “How much?”

  “Eighteen even.” While I counted out the bills, she bagged up my purchases. “Strange that Jax isn’t living out at the compound, don’t you think?”

  “Not really.” I shoved the rest of the money into my pocket. “Being that he’s security, he might want to appear unbiased. I doubt a lot of people would venture onto Jackson land if they were having a problem and needed to talk to him.”

  “True.” After shoving my receipt in the bag, she leaned one arm across the top of the register. “I’m sure I’ll get the skinny about everything in a day or two.”

  “If anybody does, it will be you.” Now that I knew he was directly across the street, I wanted to see his office—check it out from my apartment. Not that I wanted to spy on Jax, I was just curious. “Later, Lurleen.”

  “Have a good one,” she called after me.

  For the last six years, my love life had been as exciting as watching moss grow. Being from a Shifter family, but not being a Shifter only put me one step above being human. So, it didn’t matter how hard I lusted for Jax, he was from a powerful Shifter family, with strong opinions about who and what Jax should do for his family. Most definitely I was on the not to do list.

  Bumping the front door with my hip, I popped it open. To my surprise, and I’ll admit, delight, he grabbed the handle and held it open. “Oh, thanks.” I stepped clear of the store and Jax let the door close. “I thought you left.”

  “I did.” He hitched his thumb toward the building across the street. “Dropped off the water, but I wanted to talk to you.”

  “You do?” Probably about stupid Zeek and his stupid vendetta. “About what?”

  He leaned against the brick wall between the front door of the store and entrance to my apartment, crossing his arms. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his green-gray gaze captured mine. “Us.”

  That hadn’t been the answer I’d expected. “Talk to your cousin Zeek”, or “Is your cousin Amy dating anybody?” Those I’d been prepared for. “What about us?�
�

  “I was thinking we should have dinner,” he said, his eyes never wavering from my face.

  “Together?”

  “Preferably.”

  Yesterday, he hadn’t said a word to me at my uncle’s house. In fact, I didn’t think he even knew I was there. I shook my head. “Why?”

  One side of his grin dropped, turning it into one of his infamous smirks. Either he thought I was a complete moron, or found me extremely entertaining. I wasn’t sure I liked either choice. He straightened away from the wall and lowered his arms. “Because I want to get to know you.”

  “Why?” As hard as I tried, no other answer came to mind. Curiosity about his motives pushed against me. Teenage me would have been falling all over myself to say yes, but a lot of years had passed since then, and I didn’t trust that he didn’t have ulterior motives.

  “Why not?” He took a step toward me.

  “Well, to be honest, in my entire life you’ve never talked to me.” The weight of my giant shampoo and conditioner pulled against my arms. I squatted and set the grocery bags on the ground. Memories of my sophomore year and the Sadie Hawkins dance fiasco sent a rush of embarrassment through me as if I was sixteen again. “As a matter of fact, you went to great lengths to avoid me.”

  His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Come on.” I mirrored his previous stance, crossing my arms. “Your senior year? The Sadie Hawkins dance?” He continued to stare at me, his eyes narrowing as if trying to remember. “When you found out I was going to ask you to the dance you completely bailed. Didn’t even go.” When he didn’t reply, I shook my head. “None of this is ringing a bell?”

  “The only thing I remember about that dance is that my dad told me I had to take Elaine Seager, and if I didn’t, I couldn’t go to the dance.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to take her. So…I didn’t go.”

  The bitter tang of rejection melted into the sweet taste of relief. “So…it wasn’t because you didn’t want to go with me?”

  “No.” He took another step forward, bringing him within inches from me. God, he smelled good, and the heat radiating from his body nearly undid me. Reaching out, he rubbed my upper arm. “But if you believed that all these years, I clearly owe you dinner.”

  Tingles raced up and down my arm, and the urge to lean into him nearly toppled me forward. “Well, I did kind of think that.” I smiled up at him. There was no way I was going to turn down a meal with him—alone—that could possibly fulfill my teenage dreams. “Do you even know how to cook?”

  “I can cook eggs and mac and cheese.”

  “So, no?” I silently inhaled. What the hell was that cologne he was wearing? It reminded me of summer days laying in the grass and watching the clouds float lazily by. I gave myself a mental shake. “Why don’t I make you dinner? After all, you’re still moving in.”

  “Are you sure?” Unfortunately, he stopped rubbing my arm and lowered his hand, hooking his thumbs onto his pockets. “I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

  “Yeah, right.” From the way his eyes rounded and his mouth softened with false innocence, I knew me cooking him dinner had been his ploy all along. “I’d be happy to make you dinner, because I have southern manners, not because you manipulated me into doing it.”

  “I would never think of manipulating you, Poppy Carlyle.” He picked up both my grocery bags. “You’re too smart for that.”

  Considering, we’d rarely spoken to each other, and he’d lived elsewhere for the last six years, I seriously doubted he knew anything about me besides who my family was, that I wasn’t a Shifter, and that I cooked. Though, he’d probably guessed the last one. Most southern women around here cooked.

  “Anyway…” I held out my hands. “I can take those.”

  “I’ll carry them to your car.”

  “It’s okay.” My fingers brushed his when I slipped the bags from his hands. “I live right here.”

  He released the groceries, but didn’t move from in front of my door. “We’re neighbors?”

  “Yep, seems so.”

  A slow, and slightly mischievous smile inched the corners of his mouth upward. “Well, isn’t that…lucky for me?”

  “Is it?” Butterflies erupted inside me, and my heart raced. “Why?”

  “Because,” he drawled, “Tonight, I’ll only have to walk across the street for dinner.” Again, he reached and stroked my upper arm. “Or, any other time I want to see you.”

  The light brush of his fingers was loosening my morals faster than I could slap them back in place. From the way he touched me, the way he looked at me, and the way he smelled, it was a miracle my panties hadn’t erupted in flames right there in front of God and everybody. I wanted to ask him if he planned on taking advantage of our close proximity, but that sounded a little desperate. “That is convenient,” I said, managing to keep my panting contained. “Speaking of tonight, is seven o’clock too late…or early?”

  “No.” His eyes never wavered from my face. “What can I bring?”

  Just your gorgeous self. “Nothing. Just you.”

  “All right then.” He lowered his hand. “I’ll see you at seven.”

  “Can’t wait.” The grin on my face felt too big—too dopey. “See you tonight.”

  Needing to get away from him before I dropped my groceries and dry-humped him to the sidewalk, I opened the door and jogged up the stairs to my second-floor apartment. Nobody around here locked their doors, so I pushed it open, set the bags on the floor, and jogged across the living room to the windows that looked out on the street, and conveniently Jax’s office. He stood in his office, and all I could see were his legs and rear end. I blew out a long appreciative breath. That boy’s set of buns were sweeter than Aunt Sugar’s Easter sweet bread. A few seconds later, he stepped away from the window, eliciting a heartfelt expletive from me. Maybe it was for the best. A girl couldn’t stand around ogling her neighbor’s ass all day long, or at least she shouldn’t.

  I spun and faced my apartment, scanning it as if seeing it for the first time. Not too bad. Knick-knacks were at a minimum. I’d never been a pastel and frilly girl. No incriminating evidence was on display. All I needed to worry about was dinner. With several hours to spare, I had plenty of time to cook and primp for our date. Could I call it a date? I thought so, I mean, there was a whole lot of arm rubbing and gazing zinging between us. Yeah, I’d definitely file tonight under date.

  A rush of excitement zipped through me. It had been a long time since a man had shown interest in me—any—like the tiniest speck of curiosity. Under no circumstances would I allow anything to mess up my night. Nothing.

  Chapter Three

  The aroma of chicken pot pie filled my apartment. Nothing spoke to a man like veggies and meat bubbling in gravy and wrapped up in a flaky crust. Paired with my sweet tea and peach pie, there was no way Jax wouldn’t be impressed by my mad cooking skills. Maybe he’d even be able to look past our family feud. A girl could hope.

  Now that I’d finished the meal prep, it was time to get gussied up. I’d chosen a pale-yellow sundress that showed off my best assets, and white flip-flops. Comfortable, yet cute, but first a shower. As I grabbed my robe off the back of my bedroom door, my phone burst into Chopin’s Funeral March.

  “No.” That was the one ringtone I didn’t want to hear. I slapped my hands over my ears and took a step toward the bathroom, trying to ignore the call. The dirge continued to toll. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. I stamped my foot, and then spun toward the bed. Sharon flashed on the screen of my phone. “No. No. No.” There were only a few things that could disrupt my evening, and this was one of them. A long-suffering sigh heaved from me. “Why now?” Knowing I couldn’t ignore the incoming call, I scooped up the phone. “Hey, Sharon.”

  “Poppy, sweetie, how’s it hanging?” drawled the woman—my boss—on the other end of the line. “How’s Asshat, West Virginia?”

  “Still as weird as ever.” I hesitated, hatin
g to hear her answer the question I was about to ask. “This wouldn’t happen to be a social call, would it?”

  “You wish.” She laughed. In the background, I thought I heard the clink of ice against a glass, followed by the glug of liquid. “No, sweetie, I have an assignment for you.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  “Come on, now, you usually love this shit.” An audible gulp preceded her satisfied, “Ahhh.” Then the smacking of her lips. “Good stuff. So, what’s going on? Why aren’t you tickled to hear from me?”

  Trying to be vague never worked with Sharon, but I attempted it anyway. “I’ve got a date.”

  “With a real living man?”

  “Of course, he’s living.” I walked to the door and rehung my robe. Already, I could see my night heading into the dumps. “Not everybody I associate with is dead.”

  “Human?”

  “Mountain lion.” That’s all I needed to say. Sharon knew more about paranormal beings than anybody I’d ever met. I doubted the Shifters around here had any clue about what creatures and beings lurked among us. “Childhood crush.”

  “Awww, that’s sweet.” A feminine sigh wafted through the phone. “That makes this assignment all the suckier. I wouldn’t ask if it could wait, but this is a code red.”

  “It’s all right.” I plopped onto the bed and fell backward, the phone still pressed to my ear. “Lay it on me.”

  “Honey badgers.”

  That was all she said. I squinted at the ceiling. “Honey badgers?”

  “Yep, three nasty honey badger Shifters. Seems a local witch took them out and they’ve been poltergeisting the shit out of the area north of town. I’ll send you the location.”

  North of town would either mean my family or Jax’s family land. My phone buzzed. “Got it. Hold on.” I tapped the map she’d sent. “I know where this is at.” Unfortunately, the disturbances were happening on the land surrounding the Jackson compound. “I’ll take care of it.”