Autumn Magic

by T. M. Cromer

  Their second kiss was better than the first. The taste of coffee was on his tongue along with the hint of something sweeter. Keaton took his time, delving in again and again, teasing her response. The gentle love bite to her lower lip had her growling and raising a leg to hook around his hip. Her arms came around his head to hold him closer.

  Before she knew it, his hands were under her shirt, tracing her ribs and inching her bra up over her breasts. When his thumb brushed her pebbled nipple, she moaned into his mouth.

  In an about-face, Keaton jerked away and made haste to straighten her clothes. As she stood in confusion, he raked his hands through his hair to restore some semblance of order. Just in time, it seemed, because Chloe raced into the room and demanded her father’s attention. “Daddy!”

  Back against the counter, Autumn gripped the granite top with both hands, horrified by what she’d allowed to happen. She was shaken to her core. One low, sexy “I’m kissing you” and she turned into marshmallow fluff. So much for her mental and emotional walls. He’d taken a wrecking ball to those fragile blocks. If asked later, she wouldn’t be able to say if she’d have allowed him to make love to her, but at the time, she sure wasn’t applying the brakes to that out-of-control train.

  The conversation swirled around her, and Keaton cast her the occasional side glance. His slight frown encouraged her to move, to say something—anything—but she couldn’t.

  Nine years of heartache—nine damned years!—and she’d caved with two kisses.

  Furious with herself, with Keaton, and with the whole damned world in general, she shoved away from the counter and made tracks to her old bedroom. As she crossed the threshold, she halted.

  Except for the sheet-less bed and a single box in the corner, the room was bare. Nothing about the space revealed the person who had lived there for nearly thirty-two years. But this wasn’t her home anymore.

  * * *

  From the corner of his eye, Keaton watched Autumn flee the kitchen.

  She was upset. That much was obvious. Only he didn’t know if it was because he’d guessed she reacted to protect him, their impromptu kiss, or because her uncle was putting demands on her. Perhaps a combination of all three.

  “Daddy?”

  He gave Chloe his undivided attention.

  “Is Miss Autumn a homewrecker?”

  Irritation gripped him, and he worked to dispel it. Chloe was only repeating her mother’s words from earlier.

  “No, midget, she’s not. The true definition of a homewrecker is someone who breaks up, or attempts to break up, a happy family unit.” He lifted his daughter onto a stool and poured her a glass of water as he formed the words to explain. “Chloe, I am never going to lie to you. There may be times I don’t tell you everything you want to know, but it will be because the timing is wrong, not because you don’t deserve to know. Do you understand?”

  “Is now one of those times?”

  Her inquisitive honey eyes peered up at him as she sipped her water.

  “I married your mother because you were in her belly. We weren’t in love. Not like your grandparents or Uncle Coop and Miss Summer. But I wanted to be your dad very much, and I thought marriage was the best option.”

  Her rapt attention caused an internal cringe. His explanation wasn’t going to be cut and dried.

  “But sometimes grown-ups don’t always get along. That’s what happened between me and your mom. We weren’t a happy family unit. The only people who broke up our unit was me and your mom. Miss Autumn had nothing to do with that.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. Autumn had been the ghost between them for their entire relationship.

  “Good. I don’t want her to be a homewrecker.”

  “Somehow, I doubt she ever will be. She’s not the type.” He ruffled her dark hair. “Why don’t you finish your water? I need to go speak to Miss Autumn for a few minutes, okay?”

  “Are you going to kiss her again?”

  His jaw dropped. “Uh…”

  “Like at the restaurant?”

  “Oh, uh…” What could he say? Hell, yes, he would kiss her if given the opportunity. More than that even. He regained command of his tongue. “Finish your water.”

  She grinned into her glass, and he got the distinct impression the little troublemaker was playing him.

  Keaton jogged up the stairs to Autumn’s old room. Memories of hanging out, listening to music, and making love all flooded back. They’d been happy once. How something so beautiful could go wrong and turn into such ugliness was beyond his comprehension.

  He found her sitting on the bed and staring at a brown cardboard box in the corner. The room was empty but for the mattress, bed frame, and box.

  “It seems odd to see the room bare,” he said softly as he leaned his shoulder against the jamb. “It used to be colorful. Awards, posters, pictures of us.”

  She remained silent and continued to stare at the box.

  Keaton shoved off the door frame and entered her room. “Your vanity used to be here, didn’t it?” He gestured to the wall closest to him. “I used to love to watch you play with your hair and try on new makeup.” Remembered emotions clogged his throat. “You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Still are.”

  Her head came up, but she didn’t look his way.

  Abruptly, she stood.

  He held his breath and waited for her to speak.

  “The box is yours. I never could quite bring myself to drop it by your place since that day.” She gave her standard careless shrug. “I guess I could’ve had one of my sisters drop it off, but I forgot. Anyway, be sure you take it when you leave today. I think Spring wants to make this a guest room.”

  She brushed by him and exited the room.

  His eyes went to the box. On wooden legs, he retrieved it and set it on the bed. Without looking, he knew what he would find: every gift he’d ever given her. An MP3 player containing their favorite songs. Most likely every picture they’d ever taken together. Their entire relationship boxed up so she didn’t have to look at it.

  He closed his eyes and remembered the way they had been in those last few minutes before she told him the truth of what she was. Teasing, happy, in love. Not one second of one day spent with her had faded from his memory. Each moment was preserved in his mind. Etched in the very fabric of his existence. Periodically, he would take out those old memories and dust them off, remember what true happiness had felt like. But in the next breath, he’d get angry because he believed it had all been a lie. A spell she’d cast on him to entice him. He’d been such a stupid boy. Undeserving of her. Of them.

  “Daddy?”

  He glanced up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking a stroll down memory lane.”

  “Oh.”

  He smiled because she had no idea what he meant, but she liked to pretend she did.

  “Miss Autumn said to tell you to ‘shake a leg, time’s a-wastin’.”

  “She did, huh?” He forced a laugh. “Well, we mustn’t keep Miss Autumn waiting.”

  Chapter 5

  Throughout witchcraft training 101, Autumn felt Keaton’s hawk-like stare. It took all her willpower not to squirm under his constant regard. Mostly, she directed her lesson to Chloe and Coop. She only spoke to Keaton when he asked her a specific question.

  She had each of them practice drawing from their element for a simple trick to test their ability. For Chloe, the test was to use air to extinguish only the candles along the back wall. The child manipulated the air as if she’d been born doing it.

  “Great job, Chloe.” Next, she gestured to Coop. “Fire if I’m not mistaken. You get to re-light the candles she put out.”

  When he looked uncertain, she took his hand in hers and extended his index finger. “Feel the pulse? It matches the beat of your heart. What you need to do is concentrate that energy into the tip of your finger. Visualize it all flowing in one direction. Don’t shove the power; let it build slowly.” She released him to step
back. “Once you’ve harnessed the feeling, touch your finger to the wick.”

  After two failed attempts, Coop grasped the concept. His third try met with success.

  “Brilliant!” She smiled and patted him on his upper arm. “Summer is going to be proud of your progress.”

  “I assume I’m done for the morning? I’ll go tell her,” he said and hurried away with a grin.

  She had no doubt as to why he was truly going to find her sister. The two of them went at it like rabbits. Autumn tried to tamp down on her wistfulness since she hadn’t had a lover in what felt like a millennium.

  Chloe tugged her hand. “What’s Daddy going to do, Miss Autumn?”

  “If I’m not mistaken, your dad is a water element. Would you be kind enough to take that bowl over there and get some water from the bathroom down the hall?”

  The girl, eager to complete her assigned task, grabbed the designated bowl and ran off.

  Autumn couldn’t help but smile again. With her dark bouncing curls and gap-tooth grin, the child was engaging.

  “You’re good with children. I’m surprised you haven’t married and had a few of your own.”

  She dragged her eyes from the empty doorway to Keaton. “I’m not wife and mother material.”

  “Bull. You’d make a wonderful wife and an even better mother.”

  His husky statement was a knife to her heart. Once upon a time, she wished he’d said that exact thing to her. Wished he’d pulled her to him instead of pushed her away in his fear. She released an impatient breath. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t gain her a thing.

  “Can we keep things on a professional level, Keaton? I really don’t wish to discuss my personal life with you of all people.”

  All expression was wiped clean, and his lids lowered enough to hide any feelings that might be reflected in his eyes. “Sure.”

  “Thanks.”

  Chloe chose that moment to return, careful to take small steps to prevent sloshing the water.

  “Perfect,” Autumn smiled again. If it appeared a little less sincere, she hoped the girl wouldn’t pick up on it. To Keaton, she said, “It’s the same concept I explained to Coop. Harness the pulse to one slow, steady stream.”

  “You aren’t going to hold my hand like you did his?”

  “You’re a big boy. I’m sure you don’t need anyone to hold your hand.”

  “But what if I want you to hold my hand?”

  Now he was just messing with her. “Fine. We can hold hands.” She spit in her hand and held it out.

  Surprise, then laughter, lit his face. He gripped her hand and winked. “I’m not afraid of your saliva, babe.” He leaned in to whisper, “I’ve sampled it many times.”

  She shoved his face away. “Stuff it.”

  With his voiced pitched only for her ears, he said, “Oh, now we’re talking. I’d so love to stuff it.”

  Her cheeks felt hot, and she attempted to retrieve her hand from his grasp.

  “Nope. You are holding my hand for this one.” He kissed her knuckles. “What’s the plan with the water?”

  “Dumping it over your head would be my first choice,” she muttered.

  “I like this snarky side of you. My sweet Autumn has grown teeth,” he teased.

  This time she did jerk her hand away. “I’m not your anything. Not then. Not now. Not ever.”

  Her frosty tone left no one in doubt as to her seriousness.

  She wiped her palm on her jeans. More calmly she said, “I want you to create a fountain of the water. Try to raise the center an inch or two above the rim of the bowl.”

  The water bubbled once and flattened out.

  “You’re not trying, Keaton. Concentrate.”

  Again, the water bubbled up.

  With an impatient sigh, she grabbed his hand and felt for his power. “Again.”

  When the water only bubbled the third time, his problem became obvious. He was purposely stalling.

  “Chloe? I need a private minute alone with your dad. Do you mind hanging out in the kitchen for a few minutes?”

  “Okay.”

  “Awesome. If you’re hungry, you can knock on Winnie’s door and tell her I said to make you some of her delicious cinnamon rolls. How about that?”

  The girl beamed and rushed forward to hug Autumn’s waist. “I don’t think you’re a homewrecker, Miss Autumn. I wish you were my mom.”

  Autumn’s heart lurched. Had she not miscarried, her child would be the same age as Chloe. There were moments, like these with Keaton’s beautiful daughter, when Autumn was reminded of that terrible time.

  She squatted before the child and smoothed back her dark hair. “I’m honored you have such faith in me, sweetie. I’m sorry you don’t get along better with your mom, but I’m sure she loves you very much and wouldn’t trade you for the world.” Autumn plucked at the top button of Chloe’s shirt. “You know, if I ever had a daughter, I’d want her to be just like you: beautiful, smart, and kind. You’re the perfect trifecta,” she said with a wide smile.

  Chloe’s pride couldn’t be contained. It glowed from her like pure sunshine.

  “Run along. Don’t let my lazy sister oversleep, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  As soon as Chloe cleared the door, the smile dropped from Autumn’s face. Maintaining the cheerful demeanor took more than she could muster. She swallowed convulsively.

  Crap! She experienced the very real fear that she might lose it in front of Keaton.

  Without bothering to spare him a glance, she said, “Excuse me. I need a break.”

  * * *

  For the second time that morning, Keaton watched Autumn attempt to flee. But on this occasion, it was impossible to let her escape. Knowing she could send him to the farthest reaches of Alaska with a flick of her wrist, he stepped in her path all the same. His hands cupped her rigid jaw, and he dipped his head to force her to acknowledge him. “Autumn.”

  “Let me go, Keaton. I need…” She stopped speaking to take in huge gulps of air.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was having a panic attack.

  “Babe? What’s going on? Talk to me.”

  Her head swung back and forth like an out-of-control pendulum. “I can’t.”

  “You can. Tell me.”

  One slender hand came up to rest on her lower abdomen. “I was reminded of something I lost,” she softly said.

  He had to strain to hear her.

  “My baby.”

  Autumn had been pregnant with another man’s child.

  Keaton’s body went cold, then hot, and back to cold again. He dropped his hands as if burned. The proper thing would be to offer up condolences, yet the knowledge filled him with irrational rage. Over the years, he’d rejected the idea of her moving on or finding a lover. Logic said she wouldn’t remain loyal to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to think about her with someone else.

  “Whose?” It slipped out before he could recall the word.

  She stared at him in confusion for the span of four or five heartbeats. Understanding dawned. Something akin to hatred flashed on her face. “Nobody.”

  His brows hit his hairline. “Immaculate conception?” he scoffed, no longer caring to hide his anger and jealousy.

  “You’re something else, you know that?” she snapped. “You tossed me away like yesterday’s news. What gives you the right to ask me anything?”

  “Why won’t you say? Was it one of my cousins?” The next thought had him fighting back the burning bile in the back of his throat. “Cooper?”

  “Cooper?” she practically screeched the name. The pitch surely had dogs in the general vicinity howling in response. “Are you insane?”

  Not C.C. then. Relieved, he nevertheless had to ask, “Zane? Knox?”

  “The only Carlyle I’ve ever slept with was you, more the pity for me.”

  He had the distinct feeling he was missing something. “When?”

  “When did I sleep with you? You were ther
e, or was I that easy to forget? Oh, wait, yeah, I was. You moved on to Diane that same night you broke up with me.”

  Exhausted by the constant guilt and heartache, he said, “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it, but hey, if you’re ready to go there, let’s do this thing.”

  The life seemed to drain from her. “I don’t want to, Keaton. I’m tired of it all. Why do you think I left? Can we just work on your last task for today? I want to go home.”

  If he pushed, he’d be the biggest ass. But, he needed her to know he had truly loved her. That he had been devastated to think maybe she’d used magic to attract him and none of it had been real.

  But her bitterness was well-founded.

  The one thing bothering him now was the pregnancy. Why had he never heard rumor of it or the miscarriage? The only time she’d left town was in the days following their breakup.

  His mind went blank and his face numb. Forming words was difficult. “Was it mine?” he finally managed to choke out.

  She raised dull, brown eyes to stare at him.

  He read the answer and nearly doubled over with the pain of loss. “Oh, babe.”

  “It’s for the best,” she said tightly. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m calling it a day.”

  “We need to talk about this,” he insisted.

  “No, Keaton. We really don’t. What does it change?” She ran a shaky hand over her face and through her hair. “Nothing. It changes nothing. The facts remain; we broke up, you slept with Diane, you got her pregnant, you married her. We can’t turn back time, and neither of us would want to.” Her soft, sad smile broke his heart. “You have an amazing little girl, and I had a valuable life lesson about trust.”

  Tears blurred his vision. He wouldn’t trade one for the other, but he would go to his grave mourning the loss of their unborn baby. “I know I ruined everything. And for that, I can never say how sorry I am.”

  “This is why I never told you. What good would it have done for you to feel the guilt and pain of what never was?”

  “Any other woman—”

  “I’m not,” she snapped. “I’m not any other woman. I don’t deal in what ifs or long for things I won’t have. I live for here and now and, hopefully, a pleasant tomorrow. Anything else is a waste of time. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have business to attend.”