It Takes Two

by Sheridon Smythe

  Facing the parrot, she folded her pretty green feathers and mumbled a quick spell. “There, that should do it. He won't be saying hello for a long while."

  "Goodbye! Goodbye! Goodbye!” the African Grey parroted.

  Reuben cast Mini a look filled with disgust. “That's what I get for sending a witch to do a warlock's job,” he sneered.

  Mini lowered her beak, ready to flog the sneer from his face. “You'd better watch your mouth, buster!"

  "I would if I had a mouth,” Reuben retorted. “Thanks to you I have a beak sharp enough to slice bread!” Suddenly, his eyes widened on the doorway leading into the main store. “Shh! Justine's coming this way."

  Mini's anger deflated instantly. She took one look at Justine's pale, tension-filled face and whispered pityingly, “Bless her heart. Bea gave her quite a scare, didn't she?"

  "She'll be a lot worse when she finds out the new coach is Zachary Wayne,” Reuben mumbled.

  Sidling close to him, Mini resumed her role of a lovebird and pressed her bright yellow chest against his in a loving caress. “Hopefully she'll give him a chance to explain why he left without telling her goodbye,” she whispered in his ear.

  "You mean, you hope he gets the chance before she throws something at him?” Reuben's own low whisper grew husky as Mini continued to stroke his feathers. She lifted her foot and rubbed it up and down his wrinkled leg. “Mini, if you don't stop that we're going to give Justine a shocking lesson about the birds and the bees."

  "Probably nothing she hasn't seen before,” Mini purred throatily.

  Relaxed by Mini's seductive voice and familiar touch, Reuben nearly fell from his perch as the parrot began to squawk again at the sight of Justine.

  "Goodbye! Goodbye! Goodbye!” The abrasive screech that followed was a rude assault to the ears.

  "That does it,” Reuben muttered darkly. He stretched a green-feathered wing to its full glory, pointing it with ominous intent at the unfortunate parrot.

  "No! Reuben—” Mini hid her beak in her wing, unable to watch. She was so thankful his warlock powers had diminished with his size!

  "Good—"

  Justine paused with her hand on the cage door housing the canaries. The parrot had stopped abruptly, as if someone had clamped a hand over his beak. “Ridiculous,” Justine scoffed out loud. Ignoring the odd shiver that rippled along her spine, she finished feeding and watering the canaries and closed the cage doors before approaching the African Grey.

  The parrot hopped anxiously from perch to perch, flapping his wings, but remaining oddly silent. Frowning, Justine came closer and peered into the cage. She gasped and drew back.

  There was something circling the parrot's beak!

  She opened the door and reached slowly inside, removing the strange contraption. Her gaze went wide as she held it up to the light. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. Made entirely of leather, it resembled a muzzle used to keep dogs from barking.

  Justine clutched the miniature muzzle and turned around, her gaze running rapidly around the room. This had to be some kind of practical joke, she reasoned, fully expecting to find one of her nephews lurking behind a cage.

  She saw nothing out of the ordinary; monk parakeets, with their brilliantly hued colors of green, gray, and blue; canaries, in bright yellow and olive green; finches, cockatoos, and a pair of adorable masked lovebirds that had arrived on last week's truck. A black mask covered their faces, a bib of yellow circled their necks, and olive green colored their wings and tail.

  Birds. The room was full of colorful birds, certainly none of which were capable of muzzling an irritating African Grey parrot. Justine chewed her bottom lip, her gaze returning to the lovebirds. Her interest sharpened. The female lovebird appeared to be flogging the male, battering him with her wing in an act of uncharacteristic violence. She knew the species to be loyal and loving to their mates, not hostile!

  Silently, Justine approached the cage. The moment the female bird caught the movement, she instantly stopped flogging the male and became as still as a statue. The male lovebird seemed to glare at his mate before he calmly began smoothing his feathers back into place.

  "What's up with you two, huh?” Justine murmured softly. Maybe Bea was right and she was spending too much time here, because the look the male had given his mate had seemed almost...human. With a sheepish grin, she shook her head and turned away.

  Someone whispered behind her. She couldn't make out the words, exactly, but it sounded something like, “Complete idiot,” followed by a grunting sound. Justine stopped in her tracks. The hair on the back of her neck prickled to attention. Slowly, she turned around and faced the lovebirds again.

  They stood balanced on the perch, and this time they were huddled together as if they couldn't get enough of one another.

  Justine relaxed, smiling at her own foolishness.

  Just a pair of lovebirds, nothing sinister or human-like about them. Still...she couldn't forget the abuse she'd witnessed. She tapped a finger against her jaw as she studied the two lovebirds. Just to be on the safe side, maybe she should bring them to the front of the store. There she could keep a sharp eye on them and also give customers an opportunity to see them when they walked in.

  By the time Justine finished feeding the rest of her critters, cleared the end of the long counter near the front door, and settled the cage securely on the worn countertop, it was five o'clock. She dusted her hands and shook a stern finger at the lovebirds. “If I catch you two fighting again, I'll have to separate you."

  It was an uncanny coincidence, Justine told herself, that the female choose that moment to settle her wing over the male's feathered back. But darned if it didn't look as if she were trying to reassure her!

  Pushing the silly thought away, Justine clipped the water bowl back onto the cage wires and closed the door. “I guess I need to call you something,” she mused aloud. “How about Luke and Laura? Of course, this is just temporary. Your new owners will probably rename you."

  "Do they really understand what you're saying?"

  The voice, deeply sexy and achingly familiar, caused Justine's heart to do a triple somersault. Her back went rigid; her fingers turned white where they gripped the counter. When her vision grayed alarmingly, she focused her dilated gaze on the lovebirds.

  They seemed to be watching her intently. Not the newcomer behind her, but her, as if gauging her reaction. She grabbed the insane thought like a lifeline. If she could imagine such an improbable phenomenon, then perhaps she had also imagined the voice—

  "It's a small world, isn't it...Justine?"

  Justine slowly relaxed her grip on the counter. Her back had begun to ache, so she concentrated on relaxing that, too. It appeared she hadn't imagined the unforgettable voice of Zachary Wayne after all.

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  Chapter Two

  Zack forced himself to stay by the door, watching the rigid line of her back and fighting the urge to rush across the room and pull her into his arms. Behind him on the street, snow continued to drift lazily to the ground, mingling with the inch or so that had accumulated throughout the day.

  She'd lost weight, he decided. Or maybe it was the oversized sweater and loose-fitting jeans that made her appear smaller, more fragile than he remembered. Her dark brown hair was longer, too, the braid ending at the small of her back with a provocative little curl.

  When she finally released the counter and turned, Zack realized not much had changed about her face. His hungry gaze skimmed her heart-shaped face, lingering with a pang of remembrance on the fullness of her lips and finally settling on her eyes. Tiger eyes, he'd called them, and she had squirmed in his arms and laughed her husky little laugh that haunted his dreams.

  Light brown, almost golden in color and framed by thick dark lashes, those unforgettable eyes regarded him now with unveiled hostility. Her reaction surprised him. He'd been expecting shock, and perhaps embarrassment at seeing him after the way she led him on aboard the cru
ise ship, then heartlessly forgot about him.

  But he hadn't forgotten—would never forget—the magic of those four days with Justine. When she hadn't called, an ache had begun to settle into his heart. It had grown bigger with each day that passed when he didn't hear from her.

  Breaking free of her gaze, he brushed the snow from his coat and stamped his feet on the rug, giving himself time to control his emotions. Finally he looked at her again.

  Her expression hadn't changed.

  "How have you been?” he asked, sticking his frozen hands inside his coat pockets.

  Her chin tilted just a tad, her tone that of a distant, wary stranger facing a possible threat. “I'm fine. Great. Really busy,” she added pointedly. “I was just about to close the shop."

  Something told him she wasn't hinting for an invitation, but Zack hadn't turned his life upside just to give up at the first sign of resistance. “How about coffee? We can talk—"

  "No thanks. I have other plans.” She reached for her coat and struggled into it, then yanked her gloves on.

  "When—"

  "Never, okay?” Her movements jerky and abrupt, she hit a button on the cash register drawer and removed a set of heavy keys. She slammed it shut. “We have nothing to talk about. Besides, I'm involved with someone."

  Zack caught her shoulders as she tried to reach the door, panic making him careless. Her comment had sliced into him like a knife. “I don't know what happened to us, but it's not over."

  A fine brow arched in disbelief, but Zack sensed her reaction wasn't all that it appeared to be. Maybe it was the way she trembled that convinced him she wasn't as unmoved as she pretended.

  "You don't know? Then I'll tell you what happened to us; we had a fun time and then we went our separate ways.” He felt her shrug beneath his hands. “It happens on cruises all the time."

  "A fun time,” Zack echoed, not believing it. His grip tightened, holding her in place as he closed his mouth over hers in a kiss meant to remind her that it wasn't nice to lie.

  Surprised by the unexpected move, Justine responded to the mastery of his mouth with her heart instead of her brain, but only for an instant. The barriers she had taken care to build in the long lonely months after their affair shook, but held strong.

  Why was he doing this to her? Why, after thirteen months of heartache, was Zack back in her life? She broke free with a gasp, struggling against his hold with a growing urgency. She had known if she saw him again—"Please let me go!"

  "Can you tell me you didn't feel that?” Zack challenged softly.

  Instead of answering, she turned her face away from his heart-stopping hazel eyes. She pushed open the door. Cold air swirled around them, mixed with big, wet flakes of snow. Justine welcomed the cold to her flushed cheeks. She had thought her heart was safe, that she would never see him again to know otherwise. “I told you, I'm involved with someone. Now, get the hell out of my shop."

  "Justine...look at me."

  She whipped her head around and fixed him with a bright stare. The pain-filled words were out before she could stop them. “Why are you here?” Then, before he could answer, she shook her head so vehemently her braid flew back and forth. “Never mind. I don't really want to know.” And she didn't, because she knew she wouldn't believe him. Or maybe she was afraid she would.

  "I think you already know."

  Zack brushed by her and stepped out into the snow. Justine flipped the light switch just inside the door and followed him. She fumbled with the lock. Damn, her hands were shaking so badly she could hardly hold the key! And to think she had to drive to her brother's house.

  "Let me."

  He didn't leave her much choice, taking the key and turning the lock before she could form a protest. Her grudgingly voiced “Thanks” died to a whisper as he wordlessly placed the keys into her gloved hands and tromped through the snow to a Ford Explorer parked behind her compact van.

  Her throat ached with unshed tears. Everything she'd tried to forget came rushing back; the laughs and the lovemaking, the hushed giggles and the romantic dinners, the plans they'd made for their future, the special way he'd made her feel, as if she were the only woman in the world for him.

  All a crock of bird droppings.

  She swallowed hard as his taillights disappeared into the curtain of snow. Why was he here? Was he participating in some sick ritual where he had to see how badly he'd wounded his victim? Justine tossed her snow-covered head, rapidly blinking her eyes as tears threatened. Whatever his reasons for being in her town and invading her space, she was determined that he would never know how much he'd hurt her.

  She wouldn't give him the satisfaction, she vowed. If they happened to bump into each other again—and Cannon Bay, Nebraska wasn't that big a town—then she would be better prepared. She could do it. She could be cool and polite, distant and unaffected.

  On the outside, anyway.

  Inside the darkened store, Reuben waved his wing and chanted a quick spell to produce a tiny glowing lamp and a table to support it.

  Mini fretted about the light. “Someone walking by will see the light through the window. What will they think?"

  Her warlock husband shrugged. “Unless it's Justine, I don't think it will matter. They'll assume it's a reflection from the aquarium lights.” He shuddered dramatically. “I refuse to sit here in the dark with all these—these creatures roaming around."

  "They're not roaming, Reuben dear,” Mini pointed out patiently. “They're all caged like we are. So, what did you think?"

  "About what?"

  Mini narrowed her beady eyes, drawing each word out slowly so that it would have sufficient time to soak into his arrogant brain. “About...Zack...and...Justine...kissing."

  "Hmm. From what I could see, it was Zack doing the kissing.” Reuben hopped to the bottom of the cage and closed his eyes, mumbling a chant beneath his breath.

  "She wasn't exactly fighting him. What are you doing now?"

  "I'm hungry.” He spread his wing. There was a popping sound, then a puff of smoke.

  Curious, Mini leaned forward as the air cleared, revealing a miniature table groaning with food. A whole roasted chicken, baked ham, crusty bread, and wine. People food. She shook her head and sighed. “Reuben, lovebirds do not eat meat, nor do they drink wine. It'll make you sick."

  He snorted and spent several moments balancing his stocky bird body on the chair. His tail kept getting in the way. “I refuse to eat birdseed; it's disgusting!"

  Mini recognized that stubborn look beneath his black mask. “Have it your way, but don't expect any sympathy from me when you're puking your guts out later."

  "Please, Mini!” Reuben protested. “I'm trying to eat here."

  "Sorry.” The smell of real food made her stomach growl. She hopped to the feeder and began pecking at the variety of seeds, hoping to influence her husband. Actually, the sesame seeds were quite good, she decided, searching for more of the same. She paused to look at her husband, grinning as he tried to fit his beak into the goblet of wine. “Reuben, what do you think their chances are, really?"

  "Whose chances?” He muttered a quick chant beneath his breath and the goblet became a bowl. With a satisfied sigh, he buried his beak in the red brew and sipped noisily.

  Mini's temper flared. She opened her wing and removed her tiny crystal ball, seriously considering throwing it at his head. But no, she decided. She might accidentally hurt him, and she didn't fancy explaining that to the Peacemaker.

  Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “I'm talking about Justine and Zack, darling. Do you think she'll forgive him?"

  This time, Reuben proved that he wasn't as absentminded as he pretended to be. He dropped a half-eaten chicken leg and propped his wing on the table. “Her forgive him?” he squeaked. “What about him forgiving her?"

  "I don't understand."

  "She threw him out of the store!” He sounded outraged on Zack's behalf. “A man has his pride, you know."

  "Pride?
” Mini stomped over to him, her feathers standing on end. “Pride, you say? Well, what about a woman's heart? I believe that's more important than a man's pride.” She whirled away from him, her long, feathered tail catching the bowl of wine. It went spinning to the cage floor. Mini twitched her wingtip and made it vanish before a single drop of wine managed to soak the newsprint that served as their carpet.

  She thought about doing the same to her heartless husband.

  Seeing how furious she was, Reuben hastily backtracked. “Mini, you know that Zack didn't mean to break her heart. It was that blundering fool of a steward who's to blame. He forgot to give her the message."

  "Yes, but Justine doesn't know that!"

  "And neither does Zack,” Reuben exclaimed triumphantly. When Mini turned to glare at him, he quickly wiped the smug expression from his face. “They're either both at fault, or both innocent. Pick one."

  Mini's feathers settled and she drooped dejectedly. “What are we going to do?"

  At the sight of his wife's misery, Reuben's heart seemed to soften. With a few mumbled words, he cleared the table of its clutter. “Wife of mine, come here and share a drink with me."

  Mini glanced up, her eyes widening at the sight of the candles and delicate crystal goblets now gracing the table. She tipped her head and peered suspiciously at the liquid.

  "It's only water,” Reuben assured her. “Come, have a seat. And don't worry, we'll think of something."

  Sweeping her tail feathers aside, Mini sank down on the velvet-lined chair opposite her husband's. Her eyes watered. How long had it been since she'd last seen Reuben look so tenderly at her? Fifty years? Seventy-five?

  Too long, was her dismal thought.

  Twenty minutes after leaving Justine at the door of the shop, Zack stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel, his mood darker than ever. Once again the water had been more than a few degrees below the comfortable stage, something he'd been meaning to mention to the landlord. He suspected he not only shared the second story with his neighbor across the hall, he shared a water heater as well. A small water heater. Either that, or his neighbor took abnormally long showers.