A Breath of Magic (4 page)

“No!” Shaking my head vehemently, I sputtered another “No!” for good measure.

He tipped his head to the side, all of his attention on my face, humor clear on his. “Interesting,” he murmured.

“What?”

“Your eyes. They just changed from sea green to rich, dark emerald. Like green fire.” He winked. “You should hit on men more often, Miss…?”

“Nichols. Chloe Nichols. But I was
not
hitting on you.” Where was my equilibrium? Dumb question. I knew where. In Cincinnati with Kyle. “Rose quartz is known as the stone of love.” Hitting on him? Who did he think he was? “If she uses pendulums, she’ll probably know that. I was actually trying to be of help.”

“Uh-huh. If you say so.”

I wanted to kick him. Obviously, he was accustomed to women coming on to him—and full of himself.

“I’ll take the selenite. Which,” he said with a grin, “is known as the stone of mental clarity. A beautiful gift for her, and a huge benefit for me.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it.” The guy probably
was
involved with his assistant. Sexually, not romantically. Men like that? Well, they knew better than to give their conquests any gift with the word
love
attached.

With quick, jagged movements, I replaced the rose-quartz pendulum and picked up the selenite one. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“Do you gift wrap?”

“We can.”

“Good. Can I arrange for delivery? I’m much better at
remembering to give gifts if they’re not sitting in my desk drawer all week.”

“Sure, I’ll just need to know when and where you want it delivered.” Except we didn’t offer delivery, so why did I agree? “And there’s a fee.” Hey, if I was going to do it, I was going to be paid.

“Not a problem.” He chose the gift wrap he wanted and then paid for the pendulum in cash.

I jotted down the name of his assistant on a notepad, asking, “Where is this going to, and on what day?”

“Friday before noon, if you can manage it. Deliver it to my office.” He opened his wallet and withdrew a business card, offering it. “My work address, phone number, everything you need is right here.”

I was hot. Too hot. Maybe I was getting sick? “Thank you for shopping at the Mystic Corner.”

“You’re welcome.” He hesitated for a beat. “Take the card, Chloe.”

“Oh! Yes. Of course.” My fingers brushed his and the floor wobbled. Bright sparks of electricity, millions of them, whisked over me, through me, and my body swooned toward him. As if he were a magnet I couldn’t resist. The air grew so thick it hurt to breathe.

“Thank you for your help.” He tossed me another grin and headed for the exit.

I collapsed on the chair behind the counter and tried to catch my breath, tried to will my body to behave. Wow. Just wow. Now I understood what people meant when they talked about spontaneous combustion. I’d felt sexual attraction before but nothing like this. Nothing so fast. Nothing so hot. Which, I guess, is why they call it spontaneous combustion.

I closed my eyes, huffed the air in and out of my lungs and then realized I still clutched his business card. The card sizzled, begging me to lift it up, to look at it, to put a name to
the man who’d just knocked me senseless. One more deep breath and I opened my eyes, hoping his name was something dorky. Something I could laugh at. Something I could focus on instead of those eyes.

Initially, all I saw was a blur of black on white. When my brain was finally able to absorb the fancy raised lettering, everything I thought I knew spun around me at warp speed, stopped on a dime and exploded into a million little pieces. Ben Malone, CFO, Malone & Associates.

Yeah. Fate has a wicked sense of humor.

I pulled my car to a stop on the street in front of Alice’s house, flipped off the car ignition and tried to figure out why the hell I was even there. It wasn’t reasonable, and I hadn’t made my mind up, but I’d operated on instinct. Quite possibly, the instinct of a crazy woman.

Exhaling a breath, I slumped in my seat, trying to convince myself that Ben Malone appearing at the Mystic Corner three hours ago boiled down to nothing more than a strange coincidence, and that my reaction to him, along with the location of his employment, held zero meaning. What I really wanted to believe was that the drawing wouldn’t be of him, and as soon as I proved that, everything would settle.

“Liar,” I whispered. After all, I already knew the picture wasn’t of Kyle, the man who at this very minute was likely contemplating the perfect date for our wedding. Now, literally out of nowhere, Mr. Ben Malone with his firm jaw and firmer body and ridiculously bluer-than-blue eyes had waltzed into my life, shaking everything up.

I felt as if my body had betrayed me, and seriously? That totally ticked me off. So what if Kyle and I weren’t magical together like Ethan and Alice? So what if touching Kyle, kissing him, didn’t turn me into a burning pile of mush? These things didn’t—shouldn’t—matter when contemplating a life with someone. Our relationship was fine.
We
were fine. Yet here I sat, in front of my best friend’s house, emotions churning away, with my heart and soul begging me to reach for the sky. That ticked me off too.

I stared at the house Ethan and Alice had moved into a few months earlier, as if somehow I’d find my answers there. Built in the Craftsman bungalow style, it had stone siding, a porch surrounded by four blocky columns, and a bright red door. A large silver-maple tree graced their front yard, a few of its branches scraping the roof.

A comfortable home. Charming, even. The inside was even more so. With hardwood floors, beamed ceilings and a mishmash of furnishings from Ethan and Alice’s former lives, their house was a place meant for gathering, laughing and loving. At that instant, it was the last place I wanted to be.

“You know what? Screw this,” I whispered. I didn’t have to do it now. No one was forcing me to look at that drawing. Even more to the point, the picture wasn’t going anywhere. I could go home, think things through and come back when—
if
—I decided the risk was worthwhile.

My body relaxed. The stress that had balled up in my muscles lessened. Even the aching pain in my temples lightened. Relieved, because these had to be signs I was making the right decision, I started the car’s engine. Instantly, the radio blared on, Kelly Clarkson’s voice saturating the space. It was loud. Too loud.

My muscles jerked in response. I stared at the radio in confusion, nearly positive I’d left it off during my hurried drive to Alice’s. Odd? Yes. Odder yet: when I attempted to lower the volume, nothing happened.

I turned the knob on the radio with more force, and again nothing happened. Desperate to shut the music down, I hit the power button over and over and over with so much force that the tip of my finger turned a splotchy red. But the damn song refused to turn off. What the hell?

“I’ll do what it takes to touch the sky.”

My hand dropped to my lap.

“Make a wish, take a chance.”

The air whispered around me, caressing my skin. It washed into my body, a cool but uncanny breeze, stealing my breath away and igniting a series of shivers that refused to stop.

Slowly, too slowly, the chill faded away, my shivers disappeared and my breathing eased. The moment had seemed to last forever, but Kelly Clarkson still sang, so probably only a few seconds had passed. Dazed and trembling, I reached over and powered the radio off, only half-surprised that it actually worked. The song still pounded through my head, though. Like a skipping record. Over and over and over.

Make a wish, take a chance.

Oh, hell. How many signs was I willing to ignore?

“So this is the way it’s going to be, is it?” I demanded. “And why’d you wait for so long? Is this fun, watching me go crazy?” I didn’t know whom my questions were directed at—God, fate or Miranda—but whoever’s hands were at the wheel of this particular mess, I’d have really liked an answer. Not that I got one.

By the time I reached Alice’s front door, the song had, thankfully, stopped playing in my mind. Though I was pretty sure if I retreated to the safety of my car, it would come back. I raised my hand to knock, but Alice opened the door before my fist made contact with wood.

“I was wondering when you’d come inside. Good song on the radio?” she asked, bouncing her seven-month-old daughter on her denim-covered hip.

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You know. A song on the radio? One you liked enough to maybe camp out in your car to finish before coming in?” She stepped to the side and I eased past her. “I’m not surprised. I do that all the time.”

“Right. Of course.” I struggled to regain my clarity, my sense of normalcy. “It’s been a wild day.”

Rose scrunched her face up and yawned long and hard, as if I’d already bored her with the few words I’d managed to say, before burrowing her head into Alice’s shoulder. “She’s tired,” her mother explained.

I followed Alice into her living room and perched myself on her papasan chair, devoutly ignoring the crazy beat of my heart and the perspiration building on the back of my neck. Alice tucked Rose into the baby swing that rested in a corner of the room, covered her with a sunny yellow blanket and put the swing in motion. The baby didn’t so much as coo before closing her eyes and dropping off to sleep. After ascertaining she wasn’t going to wake back up, Alice crept quietly to the sofa, crossed her long legs and settled in.

I swallowed, trying to find the words I’d decided to say, but couldn’t. I was an engaged woman, damn it! I had no business even thinking about that drawing…about Ben. The song, which had barely left my consciousness, returned.

I’ll do what it takes to touch the sky.

Okay, that had to stop. Like now.

Maybe if I chatted for a while, I’d calm down. And the singing would cease. Smiling weakly in the direction of Rose I said, “Has she shown any signs of magic yet?” Between Miranda’s warnings and Alice’s own power, we all knew that Rose would someday have more magic than anyone else in the family, save Miranda. We just didn’t know when to expect it.

Alice’s posture stiffened. “Maybe. But I’m not positive.”

“There’s been something?”

She glanced at Rose, a mix of worry and love in her expression. “Nothing definite. But the other night, Ethan swears he took her stuffed bear out of her crib, but it was there when I checked on her in the morning. That and a few other similar occurrences have made me wonder.” She tried
to laugh it off with a shrug. “Of course, we’re not sleeping as much as we used to, so it could be a combination of our own forgetfulness and being too watchful. You know…when you’re looking for something, you tend to find it—or think you do.”

Maybe. Maybe not. “It will be fine. Her future is secure. You made sure of that.”

Alice rubbed her arms, as if chasing a chill away. “I know, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying. Or Ethan.”

No, I suppose it wouldn’t. “So…uh…Ethan still hasn’t adjusted to the idea of magic?”

“He’s fine with me, Elizabeth and Miranda. It’s just Rose he’s concerned about. Too much too soon, getting things too easily. Stuff like that.” Alice’s brown eyes bored into me. The thing about having really good friends is that they know you, and that means you can rarely surprise them. Or fool them. Chitchat time was over. “But enough of that. Let’s talk about you. What brings you here unannounced?”

“I used to stop by without calling all the time,” I pointed out, wincing as Kelly Clarkson’s voice grew in strength.

“Uh-huh, before husband and baby. Now I have to resort to kidnapping to get any time with you.” She grinned.

“That’s not true! You’re busy…and, well—”

“Give it up, Chloe. Why has today been a ‘wild’ day?”

Make a wish, take a chance.
Why wouldn’t my brain let go of that song? “Remember last year, before you and Ethan worked things out, how”—I searched for the correct word—“
unusual
everything seemed?”

“No, I’ve completely forgotten,” she said, deadpan. “Of course I remember. I didn’t know which way was up. It was a never-ending cocktail of vertigo and hormones.”

“Yeah. Exactly like that!”

My voice was louder than I planned, as if I were talking while wearing headphones, and Alice raised a finger to her
lips. “I don’t want Rose to wake up.” Her gaze hit my stomach. “Oh wow, Chloe! Are you trying to tell me that you’re pregnant?”

“No! Why do people keep asking me that?” Oh. The hormones part. I wagged my head to the side, as if I had water in my ear. Works okay for water, not so much for evacuating a song. “I’m talking about the vertigo!” I yelled.

“Chloe, shhh! Have you been drinking or something?”

I lowered my voice. “Sorry. I meant the vertigo part.”

“Something’s happened?” she asked.

Not trusting myself to speak, I simply nodded.

“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?”

I gestured that guessing was the way to go.

Wrinkles creased her forehead. “Hm, let me think. Has Miranda fi nally made an appearance?”

I shook my head.

“Has your magic started?”

Another shake.

Alice sat up a little straighter. “Has Kyle broken off the engagement?”

Even with the racket blasting in my head, her hope rang loud and clear. “Don’t sound so pleased.” I placed my hands on my ears, for some reason thinking that would drown out the noise. No dice, for obvious reasons. “Not that I know of! He’s not even in town right now.”

“Then, what? Are you having second thoughts?”

“No!” Too loud. I sighed. “Sort of, but I don’t want to.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” She leaned forward and cupped her chin in her hands. “Have you thought about why you’re having second thoughts?”

“Signs. A lot of them. And they keep coming.”
Make a wish, take a chance.

“Like what?”

“Kelly Clarkson,” I blurted. “And my traitorous body
becoming all turned on because of a stranger. Singing in my head. The radio refusing to turn off. And a business card!”

Flipping her fingers over her mouth, Alice tried to mask her grin. “As cute as Kelly Clarkson is, she isn’t the person in your drawing.” She winked. “But hey, I hear fantasies are healthy.”

While I appreciated her levity, the joke escaped me. “What are you talking about?”

“Not so quick on the draw today, are you? Think about what you just said,” she said with a straight face.

It took another few seconds before I got it, but once I did, all of my pent-up stress, worry and emotion burst out in choked laughter. Leave it to Alice to find a way to make me laugh when I felt as if the very ground had dropped out from beneath me. I smacked my hand over my mouth, trying to muffle the sound, to no avail.

Alice tossed a concerned frown toward Rose, who thankfully still slept, and then rose to her feet. Grabbing my hands, she pulled me up. “Out of this room.”

I trailed after her to the kitchen and sheepishly took a seat at the table. “I’m sorry,” I wheezed. Then, miracle of all miracles, I was able to pull myself together. “Your fault. You shouldn’t have made me laugh.”

“Right, completely my fault.” She plopped a glass of water on the table before sitting down in the chair next to me. “Drink this. Your face is flushed.” I swallowed a large gulp and then, at her prodding, another. When I slid the glass away, she reached over and felt my forehead. “You’re a little warm. Are you ill?”

“
Confused
is the more appropriate term.”

Alice’s oh-no-my-best-friend’s-gone-off-the-deep-end look vanished. “Talk to me.”

“Maybe I should look at the picture. Just for informational purposes.”

Bam, the singing disappeared. It was oddly disorienting,
as everything inside of my head, even my thoughts, seemed to vibrate from the sudden silence.

Alice raised an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

“I’m curious.” Now, my head throbbed. “Can I see it?”

“Why the change of heart?”

“Does it matter?” I shot back.

“Not really, because I don’t have the drawing anymore. I ripped it up and threw the pieces in the garbage after your intervention the other night.”

Her matter-of-fact tone startled me, and for about half a second I believed her. Then I thought of the signs. “No, you didn’t. Just go get it for me, please.” No way would Alice destroy that picture. Even so, the mere possibility of the drawing not being in existence any longer brought goose bumps to my skin.

“Yes, I really did. I thought you wanted me to support your decision, to be happy for you. I couldn’t do that with that picture here, because every time I looked at it I wanted
that
future for you. So after talking things over with Elizabeth and Ethan, we decided on a course of action.”

I weighed her words, which made perfect sense, with everything I knew about her. Again, I shook my head. “I’m serious. It’s time for me to see it.”

Exasperation floated out of her in a loud sigh. “You can’t have it both ways, Chloe! Either you want to marry Kyle or you don’t. Either you believe in magic—fate—or you don’t. Either you want to see the picture or you don’t. You were very specific in your wishes the other night, and as your friend who was trying to do what you asked, I disposed of the drawing.” She crossed her arms. “So I could try to be happy for you.”

I should have been relieved, because without the drawing I’d never have proof, and that would make it far easier to continue along the path I’d started down. Instead, disappointment gathered in my throat. “You’re serious? But now—”

“Now
what
?” she demanded. “Tell me what’s happened to make you come here today.”

I nearly told her to forget it, but the thought barely entered my consciousness before Kelly began an encore performance. Apparently I was supposed to lay it all out for Alice—for better or for worse—so I did, as quickly and succinctly as possible.