Her Own Fairy Godmother

by Marie Higgins

  Once he unfastened his seatbelt, he turned and took hold of her hands. Skin, so soft, teased and beckoned him to caress her fingers and arm. Good grief, working this close with her would cause havoc to his head.

  “Are you certain about this?” His tone was lower than he’d wanted.

  “Positive.”

  He sighed. “Then let’s go, Bonnie.”

  Her eyebrow rose as did a corner of her mouth. “I’m right beside you, Clyde.”

  Hand in hand, he tiptoed alongside as she led the way, feeling just like the couple Bonnie and Clyde who were criminals during the 1930’s. When Cyndi crouched low, Damien crouched. When she stopped, so did he. In fact, he could swear he heard the theme song from the movie, Mission Impossible. For some reason, he was starting to have fun doing this with her.

  Finally, they stood with their backs against the side of Max’s house near the front room window. Excitement built inside him, only because they could get caught at any moment. The neighbors would call the police, and the prowlers would be arrested. He was sure of it. Regardless, by the tightness of her mouth and her narrowed gaze, she was serious in her endeavor. Heaven help her, but he could tell she watched too many cop shows on TV.

  She tilted her head, looking at the window, too high for her to see into. She pursed her lips. “Great. How are we supposed to peek in now?”

  He had an idea, although it would bring her closer to him, which was what he didn’t need right now. Yet, it would accomplish looking into the window.

  He knelt on one knee in front of her and motioned his head over his shoulder. “Climb on.”

  Her eyes widened. “Climb on your shoulders?”

  “Yes.”

  She walked around him, hesitant when she reached out to touch him. “I...don’t know how.”

  “Just step on my knee and swing your other leg over my shoulders. Haven’t you been on a horse before?”

  “Once as a child, but—”

  “There’s no difference. Hurry, you’re wasting time.”

  When she placed her black athletic shoe on his knee, he helped her with the other leg, swinging it around his neck. The moment she was in place, he slowly lifted her to the window. He clamped his hands around her legs to keep her from falling.

  “Can you see it?” he asked in a tight voice.

  “Not yet.”

  He gritted his teeth. This is agony. Why was he going out of his way to do things for her when he’d never have her heart? Good ole Maxwell would have it. What Damien helped Cyndi do tonight was something the Sports Anchorman would never do. Damien enjoyed being with her, and he wished she could see the man in front of her was more important than the one she’d set her sights on.

  “I think I see it,” she whispered.

  “Where is it?”

  “By his television.”

  “Is it by a window?”

  “Yes, but really, Damien, I don’t see how we’re going to get it without breaking in. Too bad this wasn’t the middle of summer. At least a window might be open.”

  Funny. Despite it being early December, he wasn’t cold at all. Her closeness kept the winter chill away.

  “So now what do we do?” he asked.

  “Let me down.”

  He knelt on the cement then helped lift her legs off his shoulders. He set her on the ground and fisted his hands to keep from touching her again, knowing if he did, he wouldn’t let her go this time. More than anything he wanted to cuddle her next to him, to kiss her so hard she would never again think of the man who owned this house.

  He cleared his throat. “So, what do you have planned now?”

  “I don’t know, but I know I have to do something. I can’t let him keep that plant in his house if it’s poisonous. If he touches it, he’ll get a rash, and let’s hope he doesn’t try and taste it.” She shivered.

  “Only an idiot would eat it, Cyndi.”

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “You know what I mean.”

  He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “I think you’ll just have to walk up to his door and explain to him the shop mixed up the plants.”

  “No. I can’t.”

  Worried lines creased her forehead as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. He’d watched her do this for so many months now that he loved seeing her this way. He’d practically memorized every expression, every arch of her eyebrow, and he knew when something made her happy that her eyes sparkled like gems.

  “Why can’t you just tell him?” he asked; his voice deeper than expected.

  “Well, because I’d have to actually talk to him.”

  “So, do it.”

  She shook her head. “It’s too soon.” She grasped his hand. “You go talk to him.”

  “Honey, I’m not the one who sent him the wrong plant.”

  She scowled. “It was by mistake.”

  “Exactly, so I don’t see a problem.”

  Her mouth drooped in a frown, her sorrowful expression tugging at his heartstrings again.

  He shrugged. “Maybe I can pick the lock to his front door.”

  Her eyes widened. “Can you do that without getting caught?”

  “Aw, you do care about me.” He smiled and stroked her cool cheek.

  She rolled her eyes. “Damien, please concentrate. What are we going to do?”

  Voices from the house next door startled Damien. He grabbed Cyndi around the waist and pinned her against the side of the brick wall, hoping the neighbors wouldn’t notice them because they were in the shadows.

  “Do you think they can see us?” Cyndi asked.

  “Shh...” Damien placed his fingers on her lips as he whispered. “If we stand still and talk softly, I don’t think they’ll know we are here.”

  Over his shoulder he watched the two men leave the house but stand by the car in the driveway as they chatted. Damien didn’t mind the neighbors taking their time. He rather liked the position he and Cyndi were in at the moment.

  “Oh, good grief,” she growled. “I’ve never seen two men shoot the bull for so long—and in the cold, no less. When are they going to leave?”

  “Any time now, I’m sure.”

  He waited and after a few minutes, the two men were content in their conversation. It was a little chilly out tonight, but the men apparently didn’t mind seeing their breath in the crisp air.

  “So Cyndi,” he began softly as he turned back to her. In the shadows he could only see the outline of her face, but by now, he knew every curve as well as he knew his own hand. He knew the crooked tilt to her smile when she gave him that wary grin, and he knew the arc of her neck when she slanted back her head and laughed. “Why don’t you tell me about your snowglobes.”

  He could tell the moment her face relaxed. Even her lips parted for him to see her teeth in her smile.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. Tell me what made you start collecting them.”

  “The year before my grandfather died, he took me to a store with Christmas knick-knacks and bought me my first snowglobe. He joked with me into believing that when you shake the globe to make the snow fall, if you make a wish at the right time, it will come true.”

  Damien’s heart melted even more. “When is the right time to make the wish?”

  She shrugged. “That was for me to find out.”

  “Did it ever work?”

  “No.” She chuckled. “But after he died, I kept finding more to buy, hoping to get the special one that would grant me my wish.” She expelled deeply. “I haven’t purchased one for a few years now, but I keep them to remind me of my grandfather.”

  “That’s such a sweet memory.” He stroked her cold cheek. “Thanks for sharing it with me.”

  “Anytime.”

  Finally, one of the men next door climbed into his car, turned it on, and backed out of the driveway. The other one walked back into the house.

  “Whew, that was close.” Damien sighed. Although he didn’t want to pull away
, he still took a step back. But when another car turned on the street and the headlights swung toward them, he pressed himself back against Cyndi, sandwiching her between him and the wall.

  “Now what?” she grumbled. “This street is sure busy for this late at night.”

  Instead of the car driving by, the vehicle pulled into the driveway of the house they were staking out, and the engine killed. Just Damien’s luck. Max was home.

  The increased pounding of his heart threatened to make more noise than the car. Max couldn’t notice Damien. Not now. It was too soon.

  After the car lights turned off, Damien ducked and tugged on Cyndi’s hand, leading her around the corner to the large bush bordering Max’s property.

  She gave a sharp inhale. “Damien, that’s Max.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you think he saw us?”

  He crouched low, pulling her with him. “Shhh, be quiet.”

  She snuggled against him, her arms tightening around his upper arm. “Can you see anything?”

  He peeked over the bush. “Only shadows.” He kept his eyes on the sidewalk. Soon two figures appeared. Damien’s interest perked. “Somebody’s with him.”

  “Who is it?”

  He waited until the clicking of a woman’s high-heeled shoes touched the cement. Narrowing his eyes, he studied the slender feminine figure. When Max and the woman stopped underneath the porch light, Damien breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t the woman he’d expected to see. Of course, he hadn’t seen that particular woman in a long time, but the betrayal was still as raw as if he’d caught them wrapped in each other’s arms yesterday.

  Beside him, Cyndi tugged on his arm. “Answer me. Who is it?”

  “A woman,” he said softly.

  Her body stiffened and his heart clenched. It hurt to see how much this bothered Cyndi.

  “Is it his mother?” she whispered.

  Damien switched his attention back to the couple at the door. The curvy young woman certainly didn’t look like anyone’s mother.

  “Well?” Cyndi asked, her voice rising.

  “Unless he was conceived when his mother was five, I seriously doubt it.”

  She released a deep sigh, and another pain shot through his chest. Why couldn’t he get her to like him in that way?

  “So, she’s an older woman?” she asked.

  “Can’t exactly tell, but she might be.”

  Damien waited until the door closed and another light glowed inside the house. Standing, he brought Cyndi with him. He hooked his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side as they crept back to the window.

  Her arms remained around his waist as if she didn’t want to let go. The softness of her body cuddled against him was almost his undoing. He tightened his jaw. What would she do if he confessed his feelings?

  Scolding his thoughts, he mentally kicked himself in the tush. It was too soon for her to know how much he liked her. She would throw back in his face that he only wanted her for one thing. He frowned. Do I? As soon as he asked himself the question, he knew the answer. No. He respected her more than that. Problem was...would she believe him?

  “Damien? Can you see what’s going on?”

  Since he was taller, he didn’t have to climb on anything to see inside. Right away he spotted Max and the woman. It was obvious what they were doing, and he couldn’t keep from smiling. No longer was Max the victim in Cyndi’s stunt-gone-haywire, but so was his date that stood by the flowered plant, stroking the leaves as she pressed her nose in close to the bud for a sniff.

  “Damien,” Cyndi repeated. “Can you see what they’re doing?”

  “Yes, and it’s not good.”

  Once again, Cyndi’s body stiffened. “Is she in his arms? Are they kissing?”

  “Well, not exactly.”

  She tugged on his black Levi jacket. “What exactly are they doing?”

  “He’s showing her his...”

  “His what?” Her voice squeaked in irritation.

  “His plant.”

  She slapped him. “Don’t lie.”

  “I’m not. They’re standing right next to the plant.”

  “The woman is looking at it?” Her voice held a hint of sarcasm.

  “Yes. She’s touching it, smelling it, and pretty soon, she’ll get sick because she’s way too close to the plant.”

  Cyndi chuckled, but her laughter grew, so she turned and buried her face in his chest. Closing his eyes, he tightened his arms around her and breathed deeply, cherishing the moment because he knew it wouldn’t last long.

  “I think you should go in and break it up,” he told her

  She lifted her head. “Break it up? This is exactly what I want to happen. I want to be his new love interest, not that woman.”

  A lock of her light brown hair had fallen over her forehead, so he swiped it back behind her ear. He smiled at her. “You’re not being very nice.”

  She shrugged. “All’s fair in love and war, right?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. Was the real Cyndi showing through? He rather liked this vicious, yet very passionate side to her. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

  “So come on, let’s go home. I’ll tell him about the plant tomorrow.”

  He laughed. “What if Max starts touching and smelling the plant?”

  “That’s a chance I’ll have to take, right?”

  He gazed into her enchanting eyes. The moonlight touched them, making them sparkle just the way he liked. What had this woman done to him?

  He shifted his stance and shrugged. “Come on let’s go before we’re caught.”

  HUNCHED OVER HER DESK, Cyndi focused on her computer screen deep in thought as she researched the next news story. From down the hall, voices rang out, calling out Max’s name. She jerked to a sitting position and glanced at her clock. Only a half hour late. She looked his way as he came into view. Red marks blotched his face, and his lips appeared as if he wore blue lip balm.

  Inwardly, she groaned. Time to tell him about the plant mix-up.

  She wrung her hands against her stomach, not daring to talk to him. Would he blame her? Would he realize that Ana had been right—that Cyndi usually couldn’t do anything right? He still didn’t know it was her who switched the coffee and hot chocolate, and she wasn’t about to tell him, either.

  Cyndi tried to force herself off the chair and away from her desk, but her feet remained rooted to the floor. Luckily, her fingers still worked, so she turned to her computer and clicked open her email. Pulling up his email address, she nibbled on her bottom lip as her heartbeat hammered against her ribs. Please don’t blame me...

  Max, the shop I purchased your plant from just contacted me. Apparently, there has been a mix-up. Instead of the fern I’d ordered, they sent you a poisonous plant. Please use caution and don’t touch the yellow and pink flower. Also, don’t keep the plant indoors as it might cause nausea. Please forgive me for this mistake. I’ve already contacted the owners of this company to complain. Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you. Your friend always, Cyndi.

  She read over her email again before sending. Closing her eyes, she massaged her forehead, praying he would understand and forgive her. What if he didn’t? She snapped her eyes open and stared at the computer screen. No, that wasn’t an option. He had to forgive her. It wasn’t her fault...well, this time, anyway.

  With a deep sigh, she decided to let fate fall where it would. If Max forgave her that would be her sign to proceed with the remaining eight ways to win her man.

  Her phone rang and she jumped. Placing a hand over her crazily beating heart, she answered. “Hello?”

  “Hello, mí amore.”

  “Damien?”

  “Sure is, honey... Or do you know another Italian man who calls you mí amore?”

  His deep voice stirred emotions in her she didn’t exactly want right now. Just like what happened to her last night. The main purpose for going to Max’s house was to get the plant, but s
he found herself enjoying Damien’s company much more than she’d expected. When he drove them home, she didn’t want to leave his side, and when they separated, disappointment hung in her chest.

  She had pondered these strange feelings all night long. Hopefully, they’d go away. She didn’t need mixed emotions right now.

  “Hi,” she replied, breathless.

  “Well? How did it go? Did you talk to Max?”

  What’s wrong with his voice? Too soft and deep from what she remembered. Had he caught a cold while helping her spy last night in the winter temperatures?

  “Yes and no. Yes, I let him know about the plant, but I haven’t talked to him.”

  “What did you do this time?”

  She chuckled over the rise in his tone, sounding like a father scolding a child. “I emailed him.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Just the truth—that the store mixed up the plants and sent him the poisonous one. I told him what effects he might get, but by looking at him today, I can see he’s already figured that out.”

  Laughter pealed from the other end. “You don’t sound very upset.”

  Anger grew inside of her as she remembered Max’s date. Last night her heart had ached with the knowledge of him bringing home another woman. Today, however...she was upset. “Of course I’m mad, but...well...he deserves this, I think.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Because he took out the wrong girl last night.”

  His laughter became stronger, and she smiled.

  “He’ll learn,” she told him.

  “You’re awful, Cynthia Randall, just awful.”

  When she hung up, she was still smiling. Lately, Damien had been making her grin like a kid in a candy store. Good thing they were only friends.

  She drew her eyebrows together. Friends?

  Were they friends? She relaxed. Yes, he was her friend. He was no longer the teasing neighbor next door, but the man she could confide in. The man that didn’t mind taking the chance going to jail with her. The man that didn’t even mind her calling him fairy godmother.

  Her smile stretched the more she thought about their adventure. Regardless of what could have happened if they’d been caught, last night had been fun.