Accidental Magic (8 page)

His reply was a single word.

She laughed out loud. This was fun! And, no. She wasn’t going to go on and on with herself about how long it’d been since she’d had this kind of fun…and that she might be having
too
much fun
too
soon. No. She was just going to enjoy herself.

She waited impatiently for the tone that signaled his reply, and when it came it sounded like beautiful music—even though she was completely aware of how ridiculously romantic that seemed.

Be on her deck at dusk? And be ready for what? But she forced herself not to text him back and ask for details. She wanted to break her old habits. She overanalyzed things (“things” being defined as “men”). She knew she did it, and she knew she had gotten worse as she’d gotten older.

“Not this time,” she muttered as she fixed herself a cup of her favorite green tea and stuck a couple pieces of toast in the toaster. “This time is going to be different. This time I’m not looking for a husband; I’m looking for fun.”

Candice took her tea, toast, a pencil, and the pad of paper she’d started writing her poem on the day before out onto the wonderful wood deck that wrapped the length of the back of her house and looked out into the woods that surrounded Mysteria. She curled up cross-legged on the comfortable wicker rocker that sat beside the little wicker table.

It was such a beautiful day! The woods, always magical (literally and figuratively) looked like a romantic dream come to life. All that it lacked was the knight and the white horse and…

Good lord! What was happening to her? She was making her own self sick.

“Snap out of it and get to writing so you can get to the good stuff tonight.” Then, humming “Tonight, Tonight” from
West Side Story
she looked at the partially written poem.

Two hours later she should have been frustrated and annoyed. She was, after all, staring at the same line she’d written earlier and nothing else was coming. Well, not exactly nothing. She’d written line after line after line, but nothing seemed to work. Nothing could begin to capture the new, crystal
bright feeling of happiness and expectation that was building inside of her, and that was the feeling she wanted her poem to evoke.

“Ah, hell! Never mind. I’ll write it tomorrow.” She had a date to get ready for, a really hot date at that, which called for eyebrow plucking, leg shaving, a full pedicure and manicure, and lots of hair primping. Not to mention that she was going to dig through some of the boxes she’d moved into the basement to find what she’d done with her really sexy lingerie.

“Tonight I will not be wearing a sports bra and grandma panties,” she promised the air around her. Had she not been so busy trying (unsuccessfully) not to giggle like a girl, she would have noticed the gaggle of pink-winged fairies who, overhearing her, had taken off in a burst of silver glitter and musical laughter out over the trees, heading in the direction of their favorite witch’s house.

Justin wanted to do something special for her. He’d been up most of the night thinking about what he could do—and about her. Her skin and her body…he’d never felt anything as lush and inviting. So this was what it was like to be with a woman versus a girl! Twenty-somethings paled in comparison to Candice. And he could talk to her! He’d actually talked with her about dreams he’d thought were long dead. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d even thought about painting, yet here he
was, heading to her place with the huge book he’d checked out from the library, one with glossy, full-color pictures of famous pieces of art, tucked under his arm. With his other arm he carried a bag filled with several cuts of prime fillet steaks from his family’s restaurant, each broiled and spiced to perfection, and one of the brightly checked tablecloths they used in the dining room. He smiled as he got closer to her house and left the road to circle around to her backyard. When he could peer through the thick trees and just barely make out her deck, he put the book and the bag down, spread the tablecloth out over the leafy ground, and opened the boxes, letting the aroma of expensive steak waft in the light evening breeze.

He didn’t have long to wait. He heard their giggles and the whirring of their wings before he saw them. Then, poof! He was standing in the center of a cloud of fairies who, as soon as they spotted the steaks, squealed with pleasure and began a dive-bomb-like descent.

“Wait!” He growled menacingly and stood protectively over the delectable meal. The fairies paused, midswoop. “If you want the steaks you have to do something for me.”

Four of the glittering miniature nymphs glided toward him. They were only about as big as an outstretched hand, but their beauty was not diminished by size. They smiled coquettishly at him.

“We know you, wolfman,” the four trilled together, magically harmonizing. “We’ve often watched you pleasure females in the forest.”
They ran their hands suggestively down their naked bodies. “We would be happy to do
something
for you.”

He quickly put his hands up, as if fending off an attack. “No, no, no. You don’t understand. The favor I need is not quite so personal.”

“What a shame.” They pouted prettily.

“Do you want the steaks or not?” He already knew their answer. Fairies craved red meat, but they never got enough. They could really be a pain in the ass; they were almost as bad as termites or fleas. His dad had to spray the restaurant for them monthly.

“We want the meat!” the entire group answered together.

“Good. Then this is all I need you to do.” He picked up the thick art book and then hesitated before he opened it to one of the three pages he’d marked earlier. “Do you know the teacher who lives in the cabin right there?” He pointed through the trees at Candice’s house.

As a group the fairies nodded.

“You know what she looks like?”

They nodded again, causing their long, shining hair to sparkle and glisten and float around them like slightly tarnished, then glittered, haloes.

“Excellent. Here’s what I need you to do…” Justin opened the book. The fairies flocked around him, making curious little cooing noises as he gave them their orders.

Candice was going to be totally surprised!

Candice was sitting in her wicker chair sipping an excellent glass of chilled chardonnay when he stepped out of the forest and onto the grass of her backyard. There was just enough light left in the dusky sky to see that his smile was reflected by the sparkle in his amber eyes.

“Hello, Ms. Cox,” he said mischievously.

“Hello, Justin,” she said in her best teacher voice. “Did you stop by for a little detention?”

“I don’t know.” His grin widened. “I think I’ve been a pretty good boy lately.”

“Yes, you certainly have,” she said, feeling suddenly very warm.

“Not that I wouldn’t like being locked in a room alone with you.”

“So my surprise has to do with locks?”

“No, Miss Impatient. Nothing like that.” He climbed the deck stairs and leaned down to kiss her lightly. “You look beautiful tonight. Love the short skirt.”

Candice didn’t think she’d ever been so grateful for having good legs.

“Thank you. Wine?” she offered.

“I’d love some, thanks.”

She poured him a glass of sun-colored wine. Just before he
sat in the empty wicker chair across from her he looked out toward the forest, raised his hand, and yelled, “Action!”

Instantly, the sky over the trees began to glitter like Fourth of July sparklers, and the breeze carried the sound of silly feminine laughter to them.

Candice scowled. “Fairies. What are they up to?”

“Keep watching,” Justin said, sipping his wine.

“I do not like fairies,” she grumbled. Still frowning, she looked back at the sparkling sky and gasped. A picture was forming from the glistening fairy dust.

“Oh, my God! It’s the
Mona Lisa
!”

“Keep watching,” Justin repeated.

Mona Lisa’s face changed. Candice’s mouth fell open. “It’s me!”

Justin laughed and lifted her hand from where it rested on the little table. He kissed her palm. “Yep, it is.”

Candice was still staring at the glowing portrait when the picture shifted and changed. Now she was looking at a hauntingly beautiful woman with long red hair who was sitting in a small boat.

“Waterhouse’s
Lady of Shalott
!” Then it, too, changed and she was watching herself frozen in time as the lady who was cursed to sing her last song as she floated down to Camelot.

Entranced, she watched the picture dissipate and begin to form again as another famous woman. This time it wasn’t a
painting the fairies were reproducing. It was the eternally graceful statue of the winged Nike. And then, as if the Greek gods had ordered a miracle, Candice’s face and neck, even her long blonde hair, appeared to complete the glorious statue. Candice laughed and clapped her hands.

Justin hardly glanced at the fairy artwork. He couldn’t stop looking at Candice. Uninhibited joy had transformed her face from pretty to stunning. Everything inside him screamed,
Her! She’s the one I’m meant to be with!

Candice gasped again as the new painting took form. “This is one of my all-time favorites!
Meeting on Turret Stairs
by Burton.” She made a happy little cry. “Justin! It’s us!”

Then he did pull his eyes from her to look at the sky. Sure enough, the incredibly romantic scene of the knight passing his lady on the narrow stairway had been altered so that it was the two of them. The knight was kissing his lady’s arm as she leaned dramatically against the stone wall of the castle; both of them were clearly overwhelmed by a desire so real it seemed to leap off the painting and become tangible. He hadn’t told the fairies to re-create this scene—just as he hadn’t told them to put his face in any of the paintings—but he was glad they’d added to his instructions. He’d have to remember to bring them a couple more steak dinners. Soon.

The fairy dust painting faded slowly, leaving only the darkening sky. Finally Candice turned to him.

“How did you do that?”

Her eyes were alive and her face was slightly flushed. He wanted to push the little table that was between them out of the way and take her in his arms and kiss her until his touch was what made her eyes sparkle and her face flush.

“Magic,” he said.

“But magic doesn’t work on me.”

“It worked on you tonight.” He took her hand and kissed her palm again. “Maybe you just needed the right partner to find your magic.”

“Or maybe your magic is so strong that even I can’t stop it.”

“I like that. I like that anything about me could be strong enough to attract you.”

“Everything about you attracts me,” she said, her voice low and sexy.

“Show me. Show me how much,” he said.

Without speaking she stood up and led him into her house, through the cozy kitchen, the comfortably decorated den, and into her bedroom.

“I want to undress you,” she said. “Is that okay with you?”

He bent and kissed her softly on the lips. “Anything you want is okay with me, as long as you still want me.”