by T. M. Cromer
He gave Autumn a one-armed hug and laughed when she fanned her face. “I can do that, but are you sure you don’t want to quit threatening and run away with me already?”
“I’m standing right here, you player!” Holly scolded. In honesty, she didn’t mind the lighthearted teasing. Quentin was hers, as she was his. “Where are the others?”
“Summer said she and the girls would meet us at Dixie’s Salon. Winnie was helping Spring change the little ones and said they would pop over as soon as they were done feeding them.” Autumn’s wicked laugh rent the air. “Knox, Coop, and Keaton are on kid duty. Should we film it?”
“Three warlocks and a couple of magical two-year-olds? What could possibly go wrong?” Quentin laughed.
“You guys are mean. Those poor Carlyles don’t stand a chance.” Holly tried to hold back her laughter and failed.
Frankie plated up their breakfast. “Is Grandma joining us, too?”
“Yep. Our Witch Club President declared it law.”
There was a wistful expression in Frankie’s eyes, and Holly suspected she knew what the deep emotion was: the need to belong to the group as a whole. “When is the next election for Honorary President of the Witch Club?” she asked. “I’d like to nominate Frankie to take a turn.”
Her daughter turned shining eyes to her. “Really, Mom?”
“If Chloe doesn’t mind you taking a turn, I don’t see why not. I think you’re old enough to start organizing fun events for our family.” With a side glance at Quentin, she added, “And maybe start school in the fall.”
“School? Public school?” Her voice rose with her excitement. “Do you mean it? Ohmygod, thank you! Thank you!”
“Thank your father. It was his idea.”
Frankie flung herself into her father’s outstretched arms. “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you so much! I promise not to use magic in public.”
“I know you won’t, my heart. I have the utmost faith in you. You remember why we keep what we are a secret, right?”
Holly knew he was referring to the time when their daughter triggered her gift, catapulting them back in time to warn him of impending danger. Although Holly had no recollection of the event herself, she still woke on occasion in a full-blown panic, having dreamed Quentin was lost to her forever. Quentin was always there with loving arms ready to chase her demons away. He had explained it was an echo from another timeline. A type of déjà vu.
Frankie had once said it was as if two sets of memories existed for her. The ones with her father, and the ones without. The haunted look that darkened her daughter’s milk-chocolate eyes to black had convinced Holly, as nothing else had, that Frankie spoke the truth.
For Quentin, the understanding came easier. He seemed to comprehend what this meant and had earned his daughter’s undying love when he thanked her time and again for saving his life.
Holly shoved away her train of thought and reached for another set of plates. “I’m assuming you and Chloe want a cinnamon roll since you showed up for breakfast the fifth Mother’s Day in a row.”
“Is the sky blue, sister? Besides, I like looking at your eye candy.”
Quentin laughed and offered to remove his shirt while he cleaned the kitchen, earning himself a swat with the back of Holly’s hand.
“Don’t even think about it, you tool. That’s for when Frankie and the boys are hanging with my dad and no one else is around.”
Strong arms came around her waist from behind. “That’s my beloved wife.” He lowered his voice so only she could hear. “Why don’t you send everyone ahead, and you and I can have alone time?”
Her breasts tightened, and her lady parts added their vote for alone time.
The mischievous expression in her sister’s eyes said she knew exactly the effect Quentin’s murmured words had on her.
Holly gave her the do-me-a-solid-and-take-the-kids-and-go look.
Autumn shrugged and grinned around a bite of cinnamon roll.
It was time to get aggressive with the eye gestures and facial twitches to indicate she meant business.
“You look like you’re having a seizure, love. Play it cool and follow my lead.”
The heat of embarrassment tinged her cheeks. Okay, maybe she had gone over the top.
“Frankie, my heart, your mother and I have something important that just came up—” Autumn’s snigger earned her a quelling look from Holly, but the laughter in Quentin’s tone was obvious when he continued. “—and we need you to head over to the salon with your aunt and cousin.”
“But it’s Mother’s Day!” she objected.
“Right! Make sure you clean the kitchen before you go. I’m approving magic for clean-up duty. Have fun.”
He didn’t allow time for anyone to object; he simply teleported Holly and himself to their bedroom.
“Lie down on the bed and let me wake you properly, love.”
Doing as he requested, she leaned back on her elbow and lifted a brow in challenge. “If you intend to do this properly, the sound will carry.”
“Oh, I intend to do it as improperly as possible, my prickly pear.” Quentin crawled over top of her, careful to brush and caress every inch of exposed skin he could. “But if you don’t wish your cries of ecstasy to be heard by everyone, I suggest you utilize Granny Thorne’s cloaking spell.”
“Cries of ecstasy? That’s a tall order for you to deliver on.”
Drawing back, he met her gaze with a bold stare and a knowing smile on those lips made for sin.
Her breath caught in her chest. Yeah, he totally could deliver. “Fine, I’ll say the—”
His kiss consumed her and scrambled her brain waves. When they came up for air, she’d forgotten the original topic of conversation. “What was I saying?”
His rich laughter was sunshine to her soul. “Never change, Hol. Never change.” Absently, he waved a hand toward the door. “Celo!”
Frankie smiled as her parents teleported to their bedroom. As if she didn’t know what they were doing in there! Pfft! It didn’t gross her out as it might other kids. Well, maybe if she thought about the actual act, it might. But when she witnessed them sneak away, she only saw their happiness.
Since they altered the timeline, her mother had been different. The only way to describe it? Her mother was now present. Instead of walking around with a sad, haunted look on her face, Holly Thorne-Buchanan now faced each day with a sparkle in her eye and a happy smile on her lips.
All because of Quentin.
He was everything Frankie had hoped he would be and more. The fun-loving side of his personality never allowed her to dwell on the alternate timeline when he wasn’t around. His constant love and teasing attention made life picture perfect.
“We should go before those two start rocking the house,” her aunt said. She popped the last piece of the ginormous cinnamon roll into her mouth and grinned. “Visualize a clean kitchen and let’s go, kid.”
“Think I can do it myself? Mom or Dad always helped me in the past.”
“Girl, you are a Thorne Witch. Added to that, you’re the great, great… well, you descend from Zeus. You have power beyond your imagination.”
Frankie bit back a smile. Yeah, her lineage was pretty badass. Closing her eyes, she envisioned a platter for the leftover food. In her mind’s eye, she warmed the food to steaming and placed a domed lid over the top—like a swanky hotel room service. Next, she mentally put the remaining dishes in the dishwasher and reset the table how her mother liked it.
Opening her eyes, she saw the results of her magic. “I did it!”
“Yeah, kid, you did. But you might want to get rid of the flour on your shirt.”
“I used to send Mom and Dad mimosas when they would hide out in their bedroom. Just sayin’.” Chloe laughed and kissed Frankie’s cheek.
Autumn smiled and hugged her daughter tight. “You always were a wonderful child. Now you’ve grown into a beautiful woman. Twenty-two next Tuesday. I can’t believe it.”
&
nbsp; “Yep, back to Harvard in the fall. I’m going to miss everyone.”
“Will you still have Derek to keep you company?” Frankie added.
“No. He graduated this year. Besides, he still refuses to see me as anything other than his best friend.”
“We’ll have to rectify that,” Autumn assured her. “But only after you’ve graduated.”
Chloe’s face fell. “No rectifying that, Mom. He’s dating someone else.”
“Boys are dumb,” Frankie said, parroting her Aunt Tums’s favorite saying.
“Exactly! Nothing a good firebombing of his truck won’t cure.” Autumn gave Frankie a quick tap on her butt. “Now, set that tray outside your parent’s bedroom door and let’s get going.”
From the Author…
Thank you for taking the time to read REKINDLED MAGIC. If you love what you’ve read, please leave a brief review. To find out about what’s happening next in the world of The Thorne Witches, be sure to subscribe my newsletter.
Books in The Thorne Witches Series:
SUMMER MAGIC
AUTUMN MAGIC
WINTER MAGIC
SPRING MAGIC
REKINDLED MAGIC
LONG LOST MAGIC
Never fear. All the characters you’ve come to love—Nash, GiGi, Preston, and Rafe—will have a story of their own in the coming months.
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