by Brea Viragh
He frowned. “A wish? Are you serious? You’re out of wishes, remember?”
I struggled to pull him up next to me before leaning in to kiss the last remaining brain cells out of his head. “A wish, yes. I like to think you’re more a freelance djinn now.”
His fingers got busy immediately, shifting under my shirt to tickle the skin on my rib cage. “I can’t even believe you.”
“Don’t you want to hear what it is?”
“You do realize I don’t have my powers anymore, right? I can’t just wiggle my fingers or crinkle my nose or whatever it is people think I do and give you what you want.”
“There goes my freelance idea.” I stilled his babble with another kiss. “I want you to marry me, stupid. For richer or poorer. That’s the deal, isn’t it? I’m not exactly up with protocol these days. I’ve been a little rusty on account of the arm.” I held out my forearm for his inspection.
He smiled, and I couldn’t catch my breath. Couldn’t find my balance. “You want me? Like…this? Even though I can’t grant your wishes and call you ‘master’?”
I raised an eyebrow. “I suppose that remains to be seen,” I quipped. “Seriously, I want you any way you come. You don’t even have to get down on one knee. Seems like a pretty sweet deal, if you ask me. Which I can tell you aren’t going to do.”
“Oh, really? Marriage?” He lowered his mouth to mine and his kiss nearly buckled my knees. “It’s so…human.”
“Disgustingly human,” I agreed.
“I suppose you’re going to wish for a white picket fence in the suburbs or some other garbage.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Mariella, I would never. I was born to love you.” Powerless to resist, he drew my arms around his neck and pulled me close. “And I have a feeling if I don’t say yes, you’ll still find a way to curse me.”
“Look at me,” I demanded, easing back. “No more curses. No more demons or bottles or crazy ladies hell-bent on collecting a supernatural menagerie. Which is a good name for a movie, by the way. You’re mine, Dax Parker, but only if you’ll have me.”
The kiss he gave me then was sweet and deep and managed to have my heart wheeling in my chest. “After all is said and done, I can’t believe you’d doubt my desire. It’s you and me. This is the real magic right here.” He used his finger to draw a circle in the air between us. “Whatever came before, and whatever comes next, I love you. The woman who blows up buildings and puts whiskey in my coffee and refuses to drive in the snow.”
“I did drive in the snow. I saved your ass, buddy,” I insisted. “But I will never do it again. I have you to do it for me now.”
“Whatever you wish.”
I looked at him and felt it—a burn in my body that had nothing to do with scars on my arm. It was love. Acceptance.
“I wish to be with you forever and always,” I whispered.
He took my hand and tugged me to his side. “It’s time we explored our newfound freedom, Mariella. Don’t you agree?”
I nodded. “I do.”
“Oh, and Mar?”
“Yes?”
“Consider your wish granted.”
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BREA VIRAGH is a contemporary and paranormal romance writer based in the Blue Ridge Mountains. She is a proud Gryffindor, a graduate of Brakebills, and a member of Fairy Tail. When she isn’t writing and daydreaming about her newest project, her hobbies include binge-watching HGTV, scouring thrift shops for goodies, and maintaining her alpha status among her puppy and three cats.
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