The magic she’d used—between getting through the barrier, taking down the creature, and helping to restore things, had left her drained and a little wobbly. Not to mention Tabby—the kid really pulled at the heartstrings.
“Don’t you think it is kinda hot, how she literally just saved the world singlehandedly,” one of the witches said to part of the cleanup crew they’d dispatched to the site. Bobsy overheard and smiled a little. Even if she was utterly exhausted, she had done well. She saved the world again, after all. She should feel proud… but instead, she felt kind of empty.
“No,” one of the men on the team answered while Bobsy was still in earshot. “That’s not hot, that’s scary. Besides, would you want to date someone with that much power? Hell naw, man, that’d be scary.”
Bobsy looked at her hands and found them shaking. They didn’t realize she could hear them, of course. She was on the second story balcony of one of the buildings at the epicenter, and they were down on the street below, so how could they know?
But they weren’t wrong. Saving the world was great, and she was awful good at it.
Didn’t mean it wasn’t lonely. She thought of Tabby and how much love it must take to be able to summon enough power to destroy the fabric of the universe.
Was it wrong that she wished someone loved her that much, too?
Chapter 1
The sun glittered in dappled glory across the bed of the stream behind her house. The water sliding across the smooth stones normally soothed her nerves, grounding her in nature’s majesty and reminding Bobsy how small her corner of the universe really was in the great grand scheme of things.
Unless her mother called, in which case the water wasn’t fixing anything.
“Lots of people use the internet to date,” she reminded her mother. “It isn’t desperate.”
“In my day,” her mother began in that tone—the one that scraped across her nerves with the precise glide of a cheese grater— “We didn’t need the internet to meet people. We went out, found someone nice, and boinked them.”
Bobsy sighed, dragging a hand through her long dark hair. “In your day, no one boinked. I’m pretty sure you didn’t use that word for it, anyway.”
“You can intentionally misunderstand my words all you want,” her mother continued as if Bobsy hadn’t spoken at all. “It doesn’t change the fact that you could just go out and meet some nice man—”
“Or woman,” Bobsy inserted and ignored the silent but no doubt enthusiastic eyeroll from her mother. Her mother didn’t get bi, but that was an old argument of theirs. Bobsy was more fluid in her tastes—a close bond with someone being far more attractive in her mind than anything related to gender.
“Who shares common interests,” her mother finished with a triumphant tone.
Where she was supposed to “go out” was never explained by her mother, as if the secret hunting grounds for dating witches were some family secret she couldn’t even share with her only child. Besides, it wasn’t likely, even if she did just go out, that Bobsy would just “meet” someone. She’d spent years of her life going out places, existing—saving the world twice, even—but she hadn’t met anyone special.
Not that her mother cared.
She said, instead of all those thoughts running through her head, “Look, I was just letting you know the plan, not so much asking for approval of the plan.”
“I worry,” her mother said, tone changing to a more maternal concern to match her words. “You’re all alone, way out there in the woods by yourself…”
“I live in Grandma’s old house that she sold me when she moved to Florida. I’m literally one block from the middle of town.” Not that town was huge or anything—Assjacket, West Virginia, prided itself on maintaining a witch friendly small-town vibe, after all—but still, it wasn’t like she was harried away in some holler between mountains in the middle of nowhere.
“As your mother, it is my right to nitpick and worry about you. Shall I tell you how long I was in labor to bring you into this world? Or perhaps you’d like to hear the story of my cankles, when my legs swelled up so much that there was no longer any ankle, while I was pregnant with you? Or—”
“Ma,” Bobsy interrupted. “I get it. Pregnancy is a bitch, but if you want grandchildren, perhaps relating how not fun pregnancy is to your only daughter isn’t the best way to ensure the future of said possible grandkidlets.”
Her mother was silent for a moment before replying, “You have a solid point.”
“Thank you,” Bobsy said sweetly, tossing a rock into the water. The phone was on speaker and tucked into her bra, so she picked a couple of dandelions and began to weave a crown.
“It isn’t fair to hold my grandkids hostage like this,” her mother added with some sass in her tone.
“I’m trying to get you those grandkids,” Bobsy insisted, even if it wasn’t necessarily true. It wasn’t like she wanted kids—she’d thought about it and loved the name Link, after her favorite video game—but she didn’t not want kids, either. And she wasn’t exactly lying, as being in a relationship or at least getting laid were among the top causes of pregnancy.
“On the internet?” her mother asked dubiously. “More like you’re trying to get catfished. What if you meet someone, fall desperately in love, but then learn it is a faraway prince who just needs the money transferred to him in gift cards for him to join you in West Virginia?”
“I’m not going to fall for a scam, Mom.”
Her mother let out a little grunt of doubt. “I hope not, but they happen.”
“I’ll be extra wary of any princes, okay?” Bobsy said agreeably.
“Fine,” her mother said at last. “So when I can I meet the special someone?”
“I said I just joined a dating website, not that I found someone.”
Her mother chuckled. “You wouldn’t have told me about it if it was just joining the site. Do you have dates lined up?”
“Three, for sure this weekend,” Bobsy admitted. “A software analyst from Virginia, a car-for-hire driver from Baltimore, and a retail salesperson from Morgantown.”
“Ooh,” her mother said. “Keep me updated. My soaps are about to start, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow, dear.”
“Mm’kay, love ya, Mom.”
“Love you, too, my special child.”
After hearing the phone call end, Bobsy stood and brushed off her legs. She pitched the dandelion wreath into the stream and watched the water take it and a little of her stress away. She didn’t tell her mother that one of the dates was today, nor did she mention that she agreed to meet Mystery Man Number One—the one she didn’t mention to her mother because he didn’t have his occupation listed on his profile—in what could best be called a secluded location, a.k.a. the park near her house.
It was a lunch date, and they’d agreed to pack their own food and drinks and meet at a bench near a nice duck pond nearby. After pulling her phone out of her bra, Bobsy checked the time and determined that she needed to get headed that direction if she didn’t want to be late.
On one hand, meeting a strange man at a somewhat secluded spot for the first time probably wasn’t the wisest move for a single woman to make; however, Bobsy wasn’t an average woman. She was a witch, a very powerful one marked by the universe to save the world. This didn’t make her impervious to bad things happening to her, but it did add a certain layer of security insofar as she was pretty sure she could kick any human male’s ass if needs be.
Hopefully for Mystery Man Number One, he wouldn’t give her any reasons to see if that spell she’d prepped—which turned genitalia into a banana—worked or not. Sure, it was a temporary spell, but in her experience… it taught a life lesson.
After little more than a few minutes of easy hiking, she made it to the duck pond and spotted the agreed upon bench in the distance. A man sat on the bench, but he was nearer to eighty than her age. His bespectacled face was bent low and close to the newspaper he was reading, and every so
often he would sip on a coffee he’d placed next to himself on the bench.
Surely that wasn’t her date, so she scanned the park but didn’t see anyone else—well, except for the ducks, of course, and a mother playing frisbee with what appeared to be her teenaged son. They were laughing loudly and having a great time, but other than them and the man… no sign of her date.
Shrugging, Bobsy approached the bench and decided to wait for her date. She was about five minutes early, after all, and he could be along any moment.
“Good afternoon,” she said to the older gentleman. She removed her backpack and sat at the other end of his bench. Without looking up at him, she opened her bag and pulled out her lunch box.
“Evening,” he grumped. “Closer to evening than to afternoon.”
Bobsy smiled at him. “My bad,” she said. “Lovely weather we’re having.”
She didn’t particularly want to engage in small talk with him, but she refused to leave the bench and miss out on what could be the beginning of her happily ever after. Plus, she was hungry.
“Humph,” the man replied. “Says you. Pollen is awful and the mostly cloudy is more like fully cloudy.”
Opening her lunchbox, she pulled out the sandwich she’d wrapped for herself earlier. Bobsy pinched her lips together, not sure how to respond to him. Dude sure is grumpy.
“Sorry the weather is not to your liking,” she finally said. “That family is so cute…”
She said the words while watching the mom and son play frisbee, but right after she said it, the man caught up the woman and laid a kiss on her that was distinctly not familial.
“Hurrrumph,” said the grumpy old man, seeing the lascivious lip lock. “Kids these days are all horny and have no respect.”
Bobsy let out a low whistle as the man scooped the woman into his arms and their kiss deepened. Older woman, much younger man… but not a teenager as she’d initially thought. His shoulders were too broad, now that she saw them bunched while he held the woman, and his five o’clock shadow too pronounced to belong to a youth. “Good for her, that’s all I’m sayin. He’s got shoulders broad enough to hold up the world.”
Old man snorted and rumpled his newspaper in a censorious fashion. “Back in my day, people didn’t just kiss other people at the park where everyone could see them.”
“Sounds boring,” Bobsy replied equitably.
He peered at her suspiciously. “You approve of that kind of nonsense in public?”
“I don’t disapprove, nor did they ask my opinion, so I figure it isn’t any of my business.” She took a cheerful chomp of her sandwich to punctuate her indifference.
His face crumpled into a frown, lines around his lips deepening in his obvious disapproval. “There’s right and there’s wrong, girl. Don’t you know that?”
The couple—the older woman and her sexy younger man—were walking hand in hand and smiling at each other as they spoke in what appeared to be animated tones. They headed to the parking lot near the front of the park and vanished behind some trees. “You’re right,” Bobsy agreed, causing the man to start in surprise. “There is right and wrong, and I think love is always right, don’t you?”
“I do,” said a deep and rich masculine voice over her shoulder.
Bobsy spun on her seat to face a very handsome, very masculine, and very sexy man dressed in khaki pants and a button-down shirt. He looked like someone from a men’s clothing commercial—all delightfully male and deliciously wholesome. “Hi,” she said to the newcomer.
“Love is a lie people tell to get laid,” said grumpy old man. He stood slowly and with what appeared to be some serious back pain. Despite that, he made it to his feet and gazed at her with rheumy eyes. “And I’ll be on my way, so you two can lie to each other. Good day, miss.”
Bobsy gave him a little wave while choking on laughter. “Good evening, sir.”
As he walked away, she darted her gaze back to the guy again. If this was the kind of man she could hope to find on dating sites, she’d put off joining for way, way, way too long. He was just what the doctor ordered… or at least what her libido wanted.
He gave off Romain Duris vibes, all dark and broody in the best ways. Dark hair—a little too long to be freshly cut—scooped down in a widow’s peak over his high forehead. Light, honey gold eyes considered her beneath bushy and expressive eyebrows. His facial hair would be described by her mother as unkempt and scruffy, but she found it instantly appealing. A peek of dark hair near his neck told her he was a fuzzy guy—her personal weakness. Her gaze dropped to his hands, another of her preferred sexy zones on a guy, and she found his fingertips to be square and his fingers long… they looked like talented hands, ones that made things, and they paired well with the cleverness she’d spotted in those amber eyes of his.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand to him.
He didn’t shake it, and for a split second, she would swear his face looked disgusted at the idea of touching her. It had to be her imagination, though, because he sat next to her on the bench in the seat the old man had just vacated. “Nice to meet you, too, Bobsy.”
She startled before she remembered her name had been listed on her profile, so clearly he must have seen it there and must, then, be her mystery date. His profile had been pretty sparse—no pic, no employment, no mention of long walks on the beach…
A lot of the men’s profiles claimed they liked long walks on the beach, despite most of the ones she looked at being from landlocked areas far from any beaches. She wasn’t sure at the aim there, but it did seem a common thread.
“So, you’re Andrew365?” she asked, remembering his name off the profile. Unlike a lot of the profiles, he hadn’t listed his full name, either, which made looking him up on social media next to impossible.
“Ambrose Foster, actually,” he said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
She didn’t offer her hand again, mostly because his reaction had been bizarre, but she did take another bite of her sandwich. After chewing and swallowing in companionable enough silence, she asked him, “So where’s your lunch, Ambrose?”
“My lunch?” he asked, appearing genuinely confused.
“For our lunch date?” He was being really weird, considering, but Bobsy reminded herself that some people had social anxiety or other barriers to easy conversation, so there was a chance she just needed to give him time to get comfortable with her.
“I forgot to bring a lunch,” he said, but his smile was crooked and a bit amused, as if he was in on a joke she didn’t get.
“Here,” she offered, pulling the other half of her sandwich out of the bag. “You like turkey and American cheese?”
For a couple longer than expected seconds, he seemed to be weighing his answer carefully, furthering her supposition that he might be a little socially awkward at the very least. Finally, he accepted the offered sandwich and gave her a little smile.
“Thanks,” he said.
Deciding that staring at him might not be conducive to him being able to eat, despite her wanting to look at him as he appealed to her so much, she focused on the ducks and went back to her own half of a sandwich. “Nice weather we’re having,” she said for the second time on this bench.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man chew faster and swallow before replying, “Lovely, I guess, if you like West Virginia weather.”
“You don’t?” she asked, facing him again. His eyes practically hypnotized her, all golden one second and creamy light brown the next. Again, she was struck with a feeling of instant attraction. Her pulse sped a bit, and her cheeks heated just from holding his gaze.
“Not my favorite,” he admitted. “I’m from up north, so it just feels humid to me.”
He took another bite of the sandwich and glanced at the duck pond, snapping Bobsy out of her momentary trance. “Whereabouts up north?” she asked.
He made a gesture with the sandwich in a general northerly direction, but otherwise didn’t a
nswer as he chewed another bite.
Finishing her own sandwich, Bobsy reached back in her ninja turtle lunchbox for the baggie of apple slices she’d cut that morning. “Want some apple?”
He accepted a few slices and again they ate in companionable enough silence for long moments. It wasn’t how she’d expected a date to go—she thought they’d get to know one another, but he wasn’t exactly being forthcoming, nor did his online profile give her much of an idea of his likes or dislikes to offer up conversational points.
“I have a question for you,” he said finally, as if realizing the silence must be getting to her. “Would you like to walk by the water?”
She had to swallow a bite of apple before answering, so she simply stood. He also stood, but she left her bag and lunchbox by the bench. It wasn’t like there was anyone around to take it, nor was there anything of particular value in the bag. “Sure,” she answered once she’d swallowed.
They walked together to the edge of the pond, and she tucked her hands in her pockets as there was nothing much better to do with them. Normally a fidgety person, she wished she’d thought to put a crystal or a rock in her pocket so at least she’d have something to fiddle with. She was closer to the water than him, but they’d nearly circled the whole body of water before he finally spoke again.
“You don’t seem nervous?” His words sounded like a question rather than a comment.
“Because we’re alone in the park, and you’re basically a stranger?” she replied, glancing up at him. He was about a foot taller than her, so if they did hook up—something that seemed less and less likely the longer they roamed in silence—she’d have to stand on tiptoes to kiss him.
Not that she was thinking about kissing him, just a biological fact, or so she told herself.
“I guess,” he said. “How are you so calm and collected?”
Furrowing her brow, she met his eyes evenly. “Should I not be calm?”
Love and Other Calamities Page 2
