Making Magic: Books of the Kindling, Book 3

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Making Magic: Books of the Kindling, Book 3 Page 22

by Donna June Cooper


  Her heart twisted as he gave her that gorgeous smile of his. He didn’t know the joke was on her, and it was too late to take it back. When she left the mountain, she was going to leave behind an even bigger chunk of her heart than before. No matter what she said or what she did, that wouldn’t change. Not for her.

  And she needed to be honest now, tonight. If she wasn’t, she would be betraying that long-ago teenager who had adored him for so long and never let on.

  “I was trying to figure out how to lick all the cider off without removing your shirt.” She leaned forward to lick his neck, right under his ear. “But I can’t.” She slid her hands down his ribs.

  Jake heard a strange repetitive buzzing sound. For a moment, he thought the sensations sizzling through him from Thea’s touch had become audible somehow, then realized it was Thea’s cell phone, buried somewhere in that tote of hers.

  “Ignore it,” Thea said from somewhere below his chin. Her words were muffled against his skin as she moved another inch and licked.

  “You really think you should?” He stifled a groan as she applied herself to finding every drop of the cider on his neck. “Could be—”

  She dipped her tongue into the hollow of his throat. “It’ll roll to voice mail.”

  Damn, she had always been a firebrand, but he really hadn’t thought about what that would mean.

  “And now you’re thinking too much.” She slid her fingers under the edge of his shirt.

  He had been right about those lips of hers. All those years of playing the flute had given the woman an amazing mouth.

  Thea pushed his T-shirt up his chest, then with both hands pulled it up until he had to raise his arms. When she had it over his face, she suddenly stopped.

  There he was, hands dangling over his head, wrapped up in his T-shirt like some kid who got pranked in a high school locker room. He tried to get a grip on the fabric, but Thea pushed him back onto the couch. “Dammit, Thea.”

  He bounced on the armrest, but when Thea straddled him, everything else became secondary to the feeling of her warm, soft body resting on his hot, not-so-soft parts.

  He must’ve made some noise of objection, or maybe encouragement, because she quit squirming on top of him.

  “What? You want me to stop?” She rose up a bit then slowly reseated herself.

  The sound he made could not be misinterpreted by anyone. Her slightly wicked laugh had him driving his hips upward in wordless response.

  “Oh!” Her laugh turned into a throaty sigh. “Now that is exactly what I want you to be thinking about.”

  Jake had a premonition of what the rest of his life would be like with this feisty woman and could find no fault with it.

  “I don’t like this,” she said. “I love looking at these hunky abs of yours, Beefcake.” She ran her fingertips down his chest, making his muscles quiver. “But I want to see the pained look on—”

  He pushed up and out of the shirt in one fluid move and crushed her to him with one arm as he tossed the shirt across the room.

  “—your handsome face.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, her fingers hot against the bare skin of his back. “Better. But that took longer than I—”

  He shut her up with a kiss and tasted hard cider as she gripped his hair and slid her tongue into his mouth.

  A long time ago, Thea had showed him the double and triple tonguing drills she did on her flute for practice. He had been amazed to discover how hard she worked to keep that particular organ agile and strong. His jeans got even more uncomfortable at the thought of what she could do with it now.

  Knowing her, she would probably try to tie something in a knot. His fingers slid up under her gauzy top and found the clasp for her bra.

  The Woodsman’s granddaughter’s bra. He froze for a moment.

  “Thinking again.” Her lips were only a breath away. “You always were the ‘think first and act slowly’ type. Good for a cop, but you are going to have to speed up or get left behind, Hotcake.”

  He nearly laughed. Classic Thea. Pedal to the metal, like that car of hers. Easy to fall in love with, but addictive and…

  Fall in love. In love.

  “Still thinking,” she said. Her gray eyes shone silver as she reached behind herself and unhooked her bra then did that weird contortionist move that had it dangling from her fingers in a matter of moments. She waved it in his face. “You in shock?”

  He was. He was in love with her. Probably always had been.

  “Nah. Just lazy.” He reached to slide his fingers up her ribcage under the filmy top. “I’m gonna let you do all the work.”

  She tsked. “Figures.”

  But the silky skin trembling at his touch told him she wasn’t quite as detached as she seemed. And when she put out one finger to push him back into the cushions, he let her.

  “So nice and toned, even after your injury.” She ran her hands down his stomach, right above the scar. “You must’ve done a lot of physical therapy.”

  “Hurt like the dickens, trust me.” He was glad his voice didn’t shake too much, but damn, she had to feel what she was doing to him. She was sitting on the evidence, which was probably the source of that smug little smile.

  “Awww,” she drawled. “I can kiss it and make it better.”

  Holy… His head whacked into the armrest again as she slid down his legs and reached for the top button on his jeans. He desperately wanted to put his hands somewhere, but only managed to grab the back of the couch and the edge of the cushion.

  “I love it!” she cried out. “Button-fly jeans!”

  He could feel her breathing on his skin.

  “You should leave a button or two undone when you’re on stage and lift up your…” Her fingers stopped moving.

  “Huh?” He lifted his head again.

  “No, on second thought, I don’t want anyone else looking at these muscles.” She undid another button. “And there it is.”

  “Thea,” he warned, but he didn’t know if he was trying to stop her or speed her up.

  “Can’t even see it,” she squinted.

  “Thea.” It was almost a laugh.

  “Such a little, tiny—” she bent closer, “—scar.” She kissed it.

  Some inarticulate sound came out of him as her knuckles brushed his hard length through the denim.

  “And it’s completely dwarfed by whatever is under here.” She flipped open another button.

  “You really don’t expect me to stay still for this.” His voice was a hoarse rasp.

  “For what?” She looked up, all innocent and wide-eyed.

  “This…this torture of yours,” he said. “What are you paying me back for?”

  Her eyes flashed. That was the wrong thing to say. She began to crawl up him, catlike, rubbing her body strategically in all the right places.

  “For all those years of…”

  She stopped above him, apparently at a loss for words. He took a chance and slid his hands around her arms. “Years of what?”

  “Years of treating me like a pest,” she said. “You were either ignoring me, or tormenting me. And it’s payback time, Jake Jake Cupcake.” She smirked before she started moving backwards again.

  He gripped her arms firmly. “Whoa. Not so fast.”

  Jake’s fingers slid from Thea’s arms to her face, cupping her cheeks in his hands and bringing her closer, pinning her with those hot amber eyes of his. She tried not to blink.

  She wanted him to joke or laugh. She didn’t want to think about what they were doing. She just wanted to do it, but something in her chest began to tighten.

  He shook his head. “I’m beginning to understand where all that bickering and squabbling and teasing came from.”

  She pressed one hand over the aching knot in her chest and the other over his hand on her cheek.
Make a joke or something. Please.

  Before she could say anything, Jake reached out and grabbed the black silk cord around her neck, tugging it out from under her top, revealing the hand carved pendant he had given her so long ago.

  “I’d wondered,” he said, fingering the musical note that had been worn to a shine by years of resting against her skin.

  Could this get any more embarrassing? “Jake.”

  He stopped her words with a kiss. “You’d always been untouchable for me, Matchstick. The Woodsman’s granddaughter. Becca’s best friend. Off limits. Until now.”

  “S-sorry? What?” she stuttered.

  Jake smiled. “Seriously. I think the only way I could handle how I felt about you back then was to annoy the hell out of you so you would bite back. Keep things safe.”

  He kissed her again, only this one wasn’t sweet, it was hungry and demanding. “This isn’t exactly safe anymore, is it?” he rasped.

  For a moment she couldn’t find her voice. “No.”

  She would never label those lethal kisses of his as safe, not when she was tingling all over and dizzy and hot and very bothered.

  “I don’t… You shouldn’t…” How could she tell him this couldn’t be any more than a fling? A one-time thing? Anything beyond that would not be safe for him. For her. For anyone.

  The sparkle in his eyes seemed to dim a bit. That gorgeous smile grew hesitant.

  “No. I mean, I… Oh, dammit, Jake Moser! You had to go and say something like that and ruin everything.” She rolled off of him before he could react, grabbing her bra off the floor.

  “Hey, wait!” Jake swung off the couch. “What did I say?”

  She was not going to cry. Dammit. She was not going to cry. Where were her sandals? That knot in her chest was not going to burst.

  Jake snagged her wrist and spun her around.

  “Thea—”

  “Don’t!”

  “What’s wrong?” He held on, not relenting at all when she tried to tug her arm free.

  She glared at him. “I have to leave.”

  “Not until you explain—”

  “No. I have to leave the mountain.” She gave up jerking at her arm and pushed at him with her free hand. “Don’t you understand?”

  “No, I don’t.” His voice was calm, but his jaw was clenched. “If you don’t have to go back to Philadelphia, why do you need to leave?”

  “Don’t touch me,” she said. He let go. Then she held out her arm. “Go ahead. Try to take it. Try and stop me from leaving.”

  He reached for it, but his fingers stopped as if he had hit a wall. He frowned, strained, clenched his jaw. He even reached for her with his other hand. He simply couldn’t touch her.

  She pointed at his empty hand. “This is why. I could tell you to forget everything that just happened. And you would. Or I could lose my temper and tell you to go jump out that window. And you would.”

  Jake stared at her hand.

  “I release you.”

  He frowned and poked her arm. Twice.

  She stepped away from him. “It’s not even reliable. Sometimes it doesn’t stick. So I am dangerous and useless at the same time.”

  “What do you mean it doesn’t stick?” He was still looking at his hand.

  “You saw it with your mom. I told her to stop saying that the Woodruffs are evil, but every time I see her, she comes back with the same damn thing, over and over again.”

  Jake started to protest then stopped.

  “And I gave my father a long list of instructions for rectifying things at Hartford. Reparations for a lot of horrible things the company has done. Making it right.”

  “And he’s not?”

  “He’s doing some of it, but one thing I specifically told him not to do was retaliate against any of my friends or associates because I chose to leave Hartford. And Greg just told me he got fired.”

  “Shit.”

  “Which means I can’t be sure if he will abide by anything else in the long run, including protecting the mountain and Grace and Daniel from him.”

  “But Thea, it’s like my ability. I haven’t mastered liquids yet.” He grinned. “It’s like herding cats. You’re still learning your limits.”

  “It’s pretty darn unlimited.” She rubbed her temple. “I can do it without even saying a word. This afternoon, at your concert, I simply thought about telling those musicians in the crowd to consider buying one of your instruments.”

  His eyes widened, then he looked in the direction of the festival grounds. “Well, I’ll be. I knew that rush was too good to be true.”

  “No. Don’t doubt yourself. If it was anything, it was only a nudge,” Thea said. “I don’t even know for certain.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

  Her phone started buzzing again.

  “You listen to me, Thea Woodruff.” Jake peeled her fingers away from her face. “Any time you want to ‘nudge’ some customers my way, go for it.”

  “It’s not funny. For one thing, it’s…it’s shameful to manipulate people that way. It’s an invasion, even when it’s well intentioned. For another, I have no idea what I’m doing to their brains.” She tugged her fingers away from him. “What if I got really upset with someone? What if I blurted out ‘drop dead’ with the voice?” She shook her head and pointed at herself. “Irresponsible and unpredictable and potentially lethal.”

  He shook his head. “Thea—”

  “Especially.” She interrupted him again. “Especially to those I love, because the people I love are the ones who can piss me off the most. I’ll go live in a cave in the desert before I’ll risk that.”

  Jake was silent for a long moment. “You feel like you have to run away from those you love,” he repeated.

  Thea nodded.

  He smiled. That sly grin he could never hide whenever he thought he’d gotten one over on her. “So, is that why you’re running away from me?”

  Shutting her eyes in exasperation, Thea stomped a bare foot on the floor. “Arrrgh! I hate you, Jake Moser!”

  “That’s good then,” he quipped. “That means I don’t have anything to worry about. Can we go back to what we were doing? Or, rather, go back to what you were doing?”

  She couldn’t help it. Shaking her head in disbelief, she croaked out a laugh.

  Just then, a familiar young voice called out right behind her.

  “Sheriff Moser?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jake’s expression change from smiling to shocked to intense. He reached out for Thea as she turned to see what had surprised him. His hand locked around her arm and yanked her behind him.

  Aaron Croate stood in front of the closed door to the stairs, hands shaking uncontrollably.

  How had he gotten in here without them hearing?

  “I’m awful sorry, Miz Woodruff. I knocked downstairs, but—”

  “What’s wrong?” Jake said.

  “Your momma and Sister Sarah are at the store and they’re scaring Emmy and she told me to come get you ’cause Mom and Dad are at the booth,” Aaron said in a rush, running the words together.

  It was only Jake’s mom being crazy again. Jake released Thea’s arm.

  But Aaron had scared her popping in here like that. What if they hadn’t stopped fooling around earlier? She lifted her hand to her chest and saw that she was still holding her bra. She flushed and spun around, stuffing the bra into her tote and sliding her feet into her sandals while Jake grabbed his T-shirt. His eyes met hers.

  “Maybe you should stay here?” he said, pulling his shirt on. “Who knows—”

  “No,” Aaron said. “I mean, Emmy wants Miz Woodruff, too.”

  When Jake looked at her, she nodded. He motioned Aaron to lead the way.

  “How did you get in, Aaron?�


  “I…uh… The door was unlocked.”

  Thea had seen Jake lock the door herself. Jake looked up at her, eyebrows raised, as the boy skittered down the steps. They both heard the distinct clink of the deadbolt as they reached the bottom and watched as Aaron’s ears turned red.

  “I-I locked it back for ya,” he said.

  “Okay. Let’s go see what’s going on,” Jake said, waving him on out the door and locking up behind them.

  In the deepening twilight, the street was relatively quiet, although Thea could hear the festival in the distance. The Trailhead Tavern was still busy, from what she could see up the street.

  Remembering that her cell phone had rung twice, Thea started to dig around in her tote.

  “I’m sorry we got interrupted back there,” Jake said so Aaron wouldn’t hear. When she looked up at him, he reached out and took her hand. “Rain check? We’ll pick up right where we left off?”

  “You mean the ‘I hate you, Jake Moser’ part?” she said, straight-faced.

  “No, the ‘good’ part.”

  “They’re in the back,” Aaron said, opening the door into Dreaming in Clay.

  No one was yelling, but Thea could hear someone, she suspected Emmy, whimpering. The display area of the store was dimly lit for closing, but light flooded in from the back room. Jake locked the door and flipped the “Open” sign to “Closed”.

  “Mom?” Jake said loudly. “What’s going on?”

  Emmy gave what sounded like a sob and Thea started to run forward, but Jake put out his arm to stop her. Aaron was wringing his hands, but he stood behind them both.

  “Mom? What are you doing back there? Come on out.”

  There was a muttered exchange.

  “We’re just talking to Emmy,” came Marilyn Moser’s voice. The tremor in it belied the calm words. But what about the other voice?

  “It’s late. The kids need to close up the store. Let me take you home,” Jake coaxed.

  “These aren’t kids and you know it, Jake Moser. They’re tools.” The voice sounded old but forceful. That must be Sister Sarah. “The Woodruffs gave ’em the power and—”

 

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