Summer Magic (The Thorne Witches Book 1)

by T. M. Cromer

  Words left unsaid floated in the air around them.

  “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  “Goodbye, Cooper.” The finality in her tone couldn’t be ignored.

  Summer stared at the doorway long after he’d left. Her shaky legs were unable to hold her, and she dropped to the wooden floor. In an attempt to offer comfort, Morty curled up in her lap, and Saul snuggled against her neck.

  She had her boys. She’d be all right. Or so she kept telling herself. A large part of her wanted to sob her grief. But she’d sworn to herself after the last time she wouldn’t give in to tears. Wouldn’t give in to the crippling emotions lost love provided. The wretched feeling would pass—eventually.

  Only a little more wallowing, then she’d get off this floor and finish packing for her move.

  Shadows darkened the attic, and still she sat.

  That’s where Autumn found her.

  Her sister sat next to her. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Her return greeting came out dry and scratchy.

  “Coop left?”

  Summer nodded, still staring at the empty doorway, unable to look away.

  Perhaps a small part of her never expected Coop to meekly leave. He wasn’t the type. The Cooper Carlyles of the world took what they wanted, didn’t they?

  “Want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’ve been where you are, sister.” Autumn stroked Summer’s hair back from her face. “It’s as if someone has taken a dull blade and carved your heart from your chest.”

  “I sent him away,” Summer whispered.

  “You didn’t believe he told the truth about his feelings for you?”

  “We were never meant to be. I pushed and pushed, wanting more than he was willing to give. At every turn, he shoved me away. Now he wants me. Or at least that’s what he says.”

  “Why can’t you accept that he does?”

  “Because earlier today he rejected me,” Summer confessed on a ragged exhale.

  Autumn removed a sleepy Morty from Summer’s arms and placed him in his bed. Her sister then tugged Summer to her feet and ducked to meet her eyes. “The man who watched you in the mirror was a man in love, sister. He was half-crazed when he saw Alastair approach you on that beach.”

  Summer focused on Autumn’s earnestness. The truth of her words couldn’t be ignored.

  “You weren’t there and couldn’t see, but I did. It was as if you throat punched him when you said you didn’t have true love. But in the next instant, you were going toe to toe with Alastair. You were willing to trade your life to save Coop and Morty. Then he knew.” Autumn smiled, and it softened her standard cynical expression. “He paced a hole in the floor waiting for your return.”

  “Something inside me is broken, Tums.” Summer shook her head slowly. “He stood right here and promised not to hurt me again. I couldn’t close the distance to take his hand. Couldn’t believe him.”

  “Was a small part of you tempted to accept Alastair’s offer of a binding spell?”

  “No. I could never do that to Coop. Or to Morty.”

  “Then you have your answer, sister.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Autumn snorted and shook her head at Summer’s obtuseness. “You were willing to die for him. What love is truer than that?” She threw up her hands. “If Keaton had offered me even half of what Coop is offering you, I’d have grabbed it with both hands.”

  “I’m sorry, Tums.”

  “Don’t be. I was a hormonal kid with stupid dreams. But you? What you have with Coop is real. You’d be a fool to throw it away.”

  “I’m afraid I already did.” The tears started then. All the self-pity she didn’t know she’d stockpiled poured out of Summer.

  “Then stop being a whiny bitch and go after him.” Autumn softened her words with a grin and a hug.

  20

  Coop took a pull of his beer and stared at the darkening panorama. One by one, small twinkling stars dotted the inky sky. The night was exceptionally warm, and he sat in his swimming trunks as he waited for the evening air to dry them from his earlier dip.

  Headlights sped down the road toward him. He ignored the vehicle as it turned into the drive. It wasn’t Summer’s van, and he couldn’t care less who might be visiting.

  A car door slammed, and heels clicked along the cement path leading to the overlarge front porch.

  “Coop?”

  Rosie McDonough. The absolute last person on earth he cared to see.

  “Rosie. What’s up?”

  “I haven’t seen much of you in town lately. The third Friday of the month you can almost always be found at the Hitching Post.”

  Yeah, it was in no way creepy that she knew his schedule.

  “What do you want, Rosie?”

  She moved closer and ran her hand along his bare shin, inching it up to caress his knee. “A woman has needs, Coop.”

  Angry at the female population in general, he dropped his feet and surged upright. “And you came out here thinking that I’d what? Bend you over the porch railing and scratch your itch?”

  A spark of true interest flared to life in her eyes—much different from the act she’d put on a moment ago. She sidled closer and tip-toed her fingers up his chest. She paused to circle the nipple and then laid her hand flat over his heart. “That works for me.”

  Well, it damned well didn’t work for him. Rosie was beautiful and perfect like a high-quality, faceted diamond. Designed to sparkle and reflect brilliance, yet just as cold and hard.

  “Go home, Rosie.”

  “Don’t be that way, Sheriff.”

  “I’m not in the mood.”

  Her over-confident smile should’ve warned him of her intent, but the beers had dulled his brain.

  In a flash, she’d draped herself against him, crushed her augmented double D’s against his chest, and sought his mouth with her own.

  His hands found her hips, but his intent to shove her back came too late.

  A creaking of the wood and gasp alerted him to another presence, the one he’d been hoping for all evening. Summer.

  He yanked back as if burned.

  Christ, he couldn’t catch a break where she was concerned.

  Coop dragged Rosie’s arms from where they were hooked behind his neck. “Summer, it’s not what it looks like.”

  “Let me tell you what it looks like to me. Then you can tell me if what I’m seeing is correct,” Summer suggested.

  Where her calm came from was anyone’s guess, because if the situation were reversed, he would be pounding any man found kissing her right into the ground at this point.

  “When I walked up, Rosie had her tongue tickling your tonsils. You weren’t doing much to shove her away. Now, you are standing there with her lipgloss highlighting your mouth, trying to find a way to justify the fact I caught you in a lip-lock. How am I doing so far?”

  “Give it up, C.C. She’s found out about us,” Rosie purred as she ran an arm up his bare chest.

  He felt as ill as Summer looked. “I swear, it’s not what you think.”

  Moisture was building in her pain-filled blue eyes. She nodded and turned to go. He suspected it was because she didn’t want to shame herself by crying in front of Rosie.

  Emotion caused his voice to crack. “Summer, please.”

  He was behind her in an instant. Placing his hands on her waist, he spun her back to face him. “She came on to me seconds before you walked up. I didn’t have time to react.”

  “This is a replay of eleven years ago, Coop. You don’t have to keep setting me up this way. I’m a big girl. I can take it when someone isn’t interested.”

  “See, C.C.? She understands,” Rosie said. Smugness coated her words like a blanket.

  “I swear, it wasn’t a set up.”

  “Whatever you do is your business. I’m just embarrassed to find you making out on the porch,” Summer informed him.

 
“Oh, honey, you need to develop a better poker face. Yours says you’re lying,” Rosie laughed.

  One wart. If Summer could just conjure one ugly-ass wart on the forehead of that rotten little tart, she would never ask her witch ancestors for another thing. She squinted and concentrated her hardest. Was that a bump forming?

  Because Summer was drained, she let it go. Her magic was wonky at the best of times. If she pushed when exhaustion had set in, the spell was likely to backfire, and she’d cover herself with boils.

  “We’re done here, Rosie,” Coop snapped.

  “Oh, no, Sheriff. We are far from done,” she countered with a husky laugh. “However, if you want to convince poor pathetic Summer, I suppose I don’t mind playing along.”

  Enough was enough. Rosie’s snide comments snapped the last wire holding Summer’s temper in place. “Tell the truth, dammit!”

  She sneezed.

  The chatter of rodents could be heard as they scurried down along the wooden planks of the porch.

  She closed her eyes and groaned. This was why she never swore. When she did, she was inundated with mice. Every. Single. Time. Autumn was right, Summer was the witchy Pied Piper of Leiper’s Fork.

  Cooper and Rosie, as if automatons, started reciting the facts of their kiss in unison. Their voices were emotionless as they relayed the details of how Coop had been sitting and drinking his beer when Rosie arrived uninvited, came onto him, then kissed him after he rejected her.

  Summer didn’t even have time to register the success of her magic before Cooper recovered his will and lost his shit. “What the hell was that? How…? Who…? Why…?”

  “You forgot where and when,” Summer couldn’t resist adding. She should’ve if the redness of his face was any indication. Causing Coop a stroke wasn’t on her agenda for today.

  Rosie, white-faced and on the verge of hysteria, backed away from Summer and her army of rodents. “You’re evil!”

  “I’m not the one throwing myself at all the men in Leiper’s Fork or blowing my way into management positions.” Summer would’ve used the word fucking, but she didn’t need to add to her collection of mice.

  Rosie’s skin turned an alarming shade of purple. In all seriousness, someone was probably going to have a stroke before the night was out. If anyone had to, Summer hoped it would be Rosie. Taking delight in watching her drool out of the side of her mouth for the remainder of her days would be mean but entertaining all the same.

  Soundlessly, Autumn appeared behind Summer’s nemesis and put a finger to her lips. With her other hand, she swirled a pattern around the area of Rosie’s head while silently mouthing a spell. Then she winked and disappeared as silently as she’d arrived. Her sister was a ninja.

  While Rosie remained in a blank state, Summer shooed her mice away and faced a gobsmacked Cooper. “Sit down and prop your feet up.”

  To her surprise, he sat without an argument, and Summer plunked down in his lap and wiped the hated garish lipgloss from his mouth. A second before snapping her fingers, she said, “Play along.”

  The trance left, and Rosie stared. “I didn’t see you when I walked up.” She spun around to check behind her and returned her confused gaze to view Summer’s smug expression. “Since when are you and Coop an item?” she demanded.

  Coop surprised them all when he answered, “Always, and we always will be.”

  His arm tightened around her, and Rosie was forgotten.

  Summer wanted so badly to kiss him in that moment. But she refused to give in to the urge. What if she ended up with Rosie cooties? Coop was going to need to wash his mouth out with disinfectant or something.

  Without tearing his eyes from Summer’s, Coop addressed Rosie, “Was there an emergency or something you needed?”

  “Can I talk to you in private, Coop?” Rosie asked, her most seductive pose in place.

  “Is it official business? Because if it isn’t, the answer is a standing no. If it is, then you need to go through proper channels, Rosie.”

  Summer’s heart swelled to bursting.

  Coop was laying down the ground rules and assuring her he meant to keep them.

  “No more game playing,” he said in a low, sweet tone. “I love you, Summer Thorne.”

  Rosie gasped. “You and Summer? You can’t be serious?” The sexy, throaty invitation was gone and in its place was the voice of a shrew.

  “Quite serious,” Coop returned, expression and voice hard, the no-nonsense Sheriff through and through. “Have a good night, Rosie. And in the future, you’re not welcome on Carlyle property. The sheriff’s department is open twenty-four-seven if you need assistance.”

  She took a step forward in her fury. The cloying scent of her expensive perfume permeated the air. “No one rejects me, Cooper Carlyle.”

  Summer sighed and rose to her feet. “This is like a bad eighties movie. I should know because I binge watched a ton of them last weekend.” Getting right up in Rosie’s grill, she said, “Let me give it to you straight. The perky, mean-spirited high-school cheerleader always loses out to the spunky, little science nerd in the end. Guess who is who in this little scenario.”

  Rosie’s lips curled back in a perfect imitation of an enraged Morty.

  Leaning in, Summer whispered, “Careful, Rosie, your ugly is showing.”

  Coop rose to wrap a proprietary arm around Summer’s waist. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to get back to our evening.”

  “Always so politically correct,” Summer murmured after Rosie had walked away.

  “Question.”

  She peered up into his austere face. Her stomach dropped with a clunk. “Sure.”

  “Do I have to worry about your sister popping in to erase my memory?”

  “Is this a serious question?”

  “You bet your life it is.”

  Summer shrugged. “I can’t control Autumn, Coop, and I wouldn’t want to. However, I will make her promise not to wipe your memory.”

  “Ever. She can’t do it ever,” he stated firmly.

  “Done.”

  “I have another question.”

  “Shoot.”

  He grimaced. “Yeah, we aren’t going to use that word.”

  “Gotcha. I think we need a pen and paper for this list of rules forming.”

  “No rules, sweetheart. Well, except for the memory erase thing. That terrifies me.” He wove his fingers into her hair and lowered his head as if to kiss her.

  Summer pulled back.

  “Does this mean you aren’t here for us?” he asked.

  “Oh, no. I am. But I’m not kissing you until you wash the Rosie cooties from your mouth.”

  “Will beer work?”

  “Bleach would be better, but I suppose the alcohol is good enough.”

  He laughed and released her. “After I brush my teeth and gargle, I’m going to kiss the hell out of you, Summer Thorne.”

  “And I’m going to let you, Cooper Carlyle.”

  He toyed with a lock of her hair. “I accept you for who and what you are. But can we keep magic out of the bedroom?”

  “We can try, but if you want me to talk dirty, we might have a rodent audience.”

  He gave a laugh and a light tug of her hair. “I’m okay with that as long as they don’t hold up signs judging my performance.”

  “I’ll be the only one judging your performance.”

  The heat in his eyes told her she had nothing to worry about in the sex department. Coop would in all likelihood rank tens across the board.

  “Coop, before we, you know—”

  “Have sex?”

  “Yeah, um, can we talk?”

  “We can take this as slow as you need to.”

  “No, it’s not that. I just need you to understand a few things before you’re in too deep.”

  “I’m already in too deep, Summer. The realization hit me when you were on the beach and the tsunami struck.”

  “You know I caused that wave, right?”

  �
�I do. And as waves go, it was pretty fucking impressive. Or it would’ve been had it not been about to kill you.” He shook his head and exhaled. “I’m grateful your father could get to you in time.”

  Because there wasn’t an easy way to say it, she blurted, “Our children will be witches.”

  His slack-jawed expression had her biting her lip.

  Coop had no words. Twice he opened his mouth to speak, and twice he shut it, unable to vocalize his discombobulated thoughts.

  Kids. Jesus! Was she already to the marriage stage in her mind?

  Because in his mind, he’d never gotten beyond doing wild, wicked things to Summer’s hot, curvy body.

  “Say something.”

  Her anxiety caused her voice to break. Once again, his reaction was freaking her out. Without needing to ask, he knew rejection was her worst fear.

  “I don’t know what to say,” he confessed. “I hadn’t gotten that far. Hell, we’ve only kissed three times, Summer. I hadn’t thought about the future, or marriage and babies.”

  Her musical laughter rang out and surprised him yet again.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to drop to your knee and propose, Coop. But if you’re that guy who wants a home, hearth, and 2.5 kids, you should know before we go further that any child of mine, by the Goddess’s grace, will have powers.”

  If he’d thought about it before now, he’d have come to that conclusion. But he hadn’t, and he didn’t know how he felt about having little witches or warlocks running around. “Will they have the power to erase my memories?”

  “This is a serious issue for you, isn’t it?” she laughed.

  “It kind of is.”

  “We’ll cast a mind protection spell for you.”

  The twinkle in her eye belied her words.

  He crossed his arms and raised a brow. “There’s no such thing, is there?”

  Her straight white teeth captured the corner of her lower lip, and she shook her head.

  “Great. Just great. Every time one of our kids decides to sneak out, they just need to wave their hands around my head and wiggle their nose.”

  “I’ll teach you to scry. You’ll always be a step ahead of them.”