She looked up. A second piece of greenery had joined the first in her hair, but on the opposite side and farther down. “That’s perfect. Nicely done, Wyatt. Better than I’d expected.”
“Good.” He grinned. “Maybe there’s hope for me after all, hmm?”
“For sure.” She stood up and brushed bits and pieces of leaves, stems, and petals off of herself. “But now we move on to phase two.”
“Which is?”
She rubbed her hands together. “Applying your magic to everything we just built.”
The look on Wyatt’s face was a mix of excitement and worry.
That pleased Marigold. He should be eager, but not overconfident. Magic might come easy to him, or it might not. Levitating a spoon was cool, but it did not a great wizard make. Perfecting the power now within him could take years. And probably would.
But to her, that was just another good way to ensure he’d be around awhile.
She smiled. “Breathe. This will probably be a slow process. It could also be frustrating. But I’m going to walk you through it as best I know how, all right? We’re going to do this together.”
He nodded. “Yep.”
“Let’s start with the greenery swags you built. If they go wrong or get completely overgrown, they’re easier to fix now than after I add the flowers.”
He stood in front of the three swags where they were laid out on one of the worktables. “What do I do first?”
“The goal is to push some magic into the plants so that they grow and mature in a way that gives the arrangement a sort of wild, natural look. Not unkempt. Just…you want to take what you’ve made and give it the beauty that only nature can. So if you want to picture something like that, then go for it.”
He hesitated. “I don’t think my mental images and your mental images are the same. I’m not sure using the pictures my brain comes up with is the best route.”
She nodded in understanding. “That’s okay. Try opening yourself to the plants. Give them some of the power within you and just let them do their thing. But not too much. You’re not looking to spend an hour pruning and reshaping, either.”
“Got it. Open myself to the plants. Give them some power, but don’t go nuts.” He grimaced. “I don’t have a clue what that means.”
“Whatever you think it means is fine. Just go with it. Magic is a little different for everyone. It adapts to you, you don’t have to adapt to it.”
“Okay, cool.” He shook his hands out and bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet.
She snorted. “You’re not getting ready to fight the plants, you know.”
He stopped rolling his shoulders to look at her. “Just loosening up, coach.”
She gave him a pass. Didn’t hurt that he was being pretty adorable right now. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He blew out a breath, extended his hands toward the swags, then closed his eyes.
A few seconds passed without anything happening, then the leaves trembled a bit.
He dropped his hands and opened his eyes. “Did I do it?”
“Not quite. I think you were close, though. So whatever you did, do it a little more.”
Disappointment bent his mouth.
“Hey, you’ll get it. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
He cut his eyes at her. “I’m a man. It’s what we do.”
She grinned. She was very aware that he was a man. Very. Aware. “Go on then with your manly self.”
Smiling a little, he resumed the stance. Again, seconds passed with nothing, then the leaves shivered. This time, they grew a little too, reaching out and unfurling in all directions.
He dropped his hands and opened his eyes, inspecting the greenery. “Hey, they look a little different.”
“They were growing.”
“But?” He looked at her. “I stopped too soon, didn’t I?”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. This takes practice. Maybe we should call it a night and—”
“No. You need these for the wedding, and that’s tomorrow. I have to get this right.”
“That’s a lot of pressure you’re putting on yourself.”
“So what? I can handle it. Give me another shot.”
She crossed her arms. “Take all the time you need.”
He repeated his actions, causing the leaves to move and grow once again. Then suddenly, they shot up wildly on spindly stems.
“Whoa!”
He opened his eyes, saw what he’d done, and sighed. “So much for that. Are they ruined?”
“No, not even a little bit.” She grabbed some shears and started trimming away the wonky bits.
He looked thoroughly frustrated. “Any suggestions on how to do this better?”
She thought for a moment as she reshaped the swags. “How about if I help you? I don’t have any magic, but I think I could guide you maybe.”
“I’m all in. What do you want me to do?”
“Just stand there.” She finished with the shears, then moved in front of him so that they were touching, his front to her back. Then she laid her arms over top of his.
He looked over her shoulder, smiling. “This is much better already.”
“Focus.” But she smiled too. It was very nice. He was strong and solid and warm. She took a moment just to absorb how good it felt to be so close to him. The scent of him surrounded her. It was clean like soap and something woodsy. She liked it a lot. “Just, uh, focus.”
“Oh, I’m focusing,” he said, his warm breath tickling her ear. “Not on the plants, though, I can tell you that.”
She snickered, almost surprised by the sound that came out of her. Then she remembered the task at hand and straightened up. “Wyatt. You’re distracting me.”
He glanced over her shoulder again. “I’m distracting you? You’re the one who backed yourself into me. Nothing in my head has anything to do with plants right now, I promise.”
She cleared her throat to keep from snickering a second time and made a little space between them. Not much. She wasn’t an idiot. “Better?”
“Not really. But probably for what I’m trying to do, yes.”
She grinned and inhaled the scent of him again. “Just let me guide you.”
“So when you see the magic coming off me, are you going to give me a signal?”
“When I see the magic coming off you?”
“You know, those little wavy lines in the air.”
She pulled to one side a bit to make eye contact. “You can see magic?”
“I can since I got yours. Can’t you? Or did you lose that in the transfer too?”
“Huh.” She thought about that a second. “That’s interesting. I can’t see magic, never could, but magic affects everyone differently. I guess that’s just part of your supernatural makeup now. Pretty cool.”
“You’re right, that is interesting. But if you can’t see when the magic’s happening, how are you going to guide me?”
“When the plants start to do their thing, which I’ll easily be able to see, I’ll press against you. Use the pressure I apply as a guide and don’t let up until I do. Got it?”
“Got it.” He leaned into her. “Let’s do this.”
“Ready when you are.” She settled in against his wonderfully firm chest, her arms up and overtop his, and forgot all about leaving a little space. He didn’t seem to mind, somehow getting closer. Sweet fancy flowerpots, he was basically wrapped around her like a winter coat.
And she was loving it.
Was she…in love with him? The thought frightened her. It meant putting herself on the line, but then, hadn’t she sort of done that for him already? And she’d been rewarded for it, too, in a sense. He’d bared himself to her emotionally. Something her ex had never, ever done. He wouldn’t have even considered it.
She stiffened suddenly, realizing she’d completely forgotten about the plants and the magic. Now she was the one who needed to focus.
The leaves were just beginning to quiver. She
pressed lightly on his arms. “Good,” she whispered.
He kept going. So did the plants. Little tendrils shot out of the vines, and the ferns unfolded a little more, growing more feathery as the magic filled them. Buds appeared and new leaves sprouted.
She kept the pressure up until the swags were wild and perfect, then she lifted her arms, breaking that contact. “Done. And so good.” She glanced up at him. “Look.”
He opened his eyes as he dropped his arms and let out a breath. His chest was rising and falling with the effort. “I did that, huh? They look like they grew that way.”
“Because they did. And yes, that’s your handiwork.”
He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her tight against him. “That’s our handiwork. No matter what you say about it being mine, the magic that’s in me will always carry your signature.”
How could she not fall for a guy like this? She smiled. “That’s very sweet of you.”
“You know what else is sweet?” He took her hand and spun her around to face him, then he kissed her with a slow, leisurely effort that made her mind go blank in the best possible way.
When he finally pulled back, he was smiling. “I could do that all night, but we have more work to do, don’t we?”
She glanced at the table filled with arrangements and the cold storage that held many, many more. “More work is an understatement.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Then let’s get to it.”
“You’re sure? It’s okay if you want to rest for a little bit. I know magic can be draining until you get used to it. It’s like endurance. You have to work up to it.”
He shook his head. He was a little drained, but she needed these flowers finished. For Marigold, he would suck it up. “I’m ready to go.”
“You’re sure?” She was studying him with a skeptical gaze. “If you get tired, you can lose control of the magic and it can go haywire. Or not work at all. Or you could exhaust yourself and we still have the wedding tomorrow.”
“I’m fine.”
Her skepticism hung on. “Put your hands out.”
He did as she asked. They were solid and still, not trembling with exertion as she’d probably expected.
“All right. On to the rest, but we are going to take breaks. Blooming flowers is much more delicate work than growing the greenery out.”
“You’re the boss.”
Marigold proved to be right. Not that he’d doubted her. Flowers were a lot harder. Two centerpieces later, he was shaking with fatigue. It took him nearly twenty minutes to recover enough to start again. With that pace, time slumped by, and it was almost two in the morning when everything was finally done.
He stretched, absolutely beat. “I can’t believe how much work magic is.”
“It gets easier with time and practice, I promise. You did great. I owe you. My sister owes you.”
He shook his head. “No one owes me anything.”
“Well, I feel like we do.”
“How about we call it even? Although you saving my life and me helping with flowers doesn’t seem like an exact swap.”
“I’m good with it.” She smiled. “You look completely wiped out. You can’t drive back to Millersville. Why don’t you stay at my house?”
He wasn’t too tired to raise his eyebrows. “You trust me being alone in the house with you?”
She laughed. “Like you have the energy left to try anything.”
He snorted. “You got me there.”
“C’mon.” She grabbed her purse and dug out her keys. “Let’s get out of here and get some sleep. You know, so we can do this all over again in the morning.”
Morning came way too early, but the excitement of the day was all the stimulant Marigold needed to wake up and get moving. Okay, maybe a little coffee wouldn’t hurt, but the bottom line was…
Pandora was getting married today.
And because of that glorious, wonderful, overwhelming news, Marigold thrummed with nervous energy. Sure, she should have been dragging because of the late night and intense workload. But Wyatt had done the heavy lifting.
Wyatt.
She stopped halfway to the kitchen. She’d almost forgotten he was here. In her house. How could that have slipped her mind? Maybe because she’d been so tired she barely remembered getting home last night. But it all came back to her now. They’d stumbled in with the singular goal of getting to bed.
Separate beds, obviously. He was in the guest room.
She should probably wake him, even though she hated to do it. They’d worked so hard, and she knew using all that magic had worn him out. He hadn’t complained once. Hadn’t said word one about how taxing it was to focus that much power, but she knew better. After all, she’d been in his place once upon a time, and while she might not be a witch anymore, she remembered how demanding the learning process had been.
Poor Wyatt. He’d skipped the basics and gone right to practical application.
She glanced toward the guest room. Maybe she’d let him sleep until after she’d taken her shower. He’d earned it. And men didn’t need as much time getting ready anyway.
With that in mind, she got a pot of coffee brewing, then went back to shower. The hot water was amazing and helped wake her up even more. She spent a few extra minutes under the spray thinking about all the work that still had to be done. The flowers had to be transported to Cole and Pandora’s, everything had to be put in place, the swags had to go on the arbor, then everything had to be given a final magical touch to perfect it all.
She’d probably have to shower again. There was no way she could do all that work outside in August in Georgia and not get a little…damp.
Thankfully, Cole and Pandora had some really good shade trees in their backyard and plenty of tents for the reception. They were even setting up some big breezy fans to keep the air moving. It would be warm for sure, but not unbearable, and as the evening wore on and the sun went down, it would be beautiful. Especially with all the fairy lights and strings of Edison bulbs set in the trees and the candles that would be everywhere.
The whole event would be absolutely magical, in every way possible.
Marigold turned the water off and got out, squeezing her hair with a towel. Her plan was to get everything done, then get herself and Saffron ready for bridesmaid duties. After that, she could take care of getting the boutonnieres on the men, the corsages on the women, and the bouquets in the right hands.
It was going to be a lot of work, but it would get done, and the end result would be beautiful. Having Wyatt there to help was a huge bonus.
She threw on her big terrycloth robe and went to check on him. She hated to wake him, but they didn’t have a lot of time to spare this morning. She opened her bedroom door and was greeted with the delicious aroma of breakfast.
How was that possible?
She padded into the kitchen and found the table set for two and Wyatt at the stove making eggs. That wasn’t something she’d ever seen in her house. A man preparing food. She shook her head in amazement. “And he cooks, too.”
He looked over his shoulder as the toaster popped out two slices of browned bread. “Morning. I hope you like scrambled. My skills in the kitchen are decent but limited.”
“Scrambled is great.” She hadn’t expected to eat breakfast this morning. She hadn’t planned on taking the time, really. “I don’t mean to rush you, but—”
He turned with plates in his hands. “Breakfast is served.” He gave her a little smile. “I’m sure there are a thousand things on your to-do list today, but you have to eat or you will run out of energy.”
He wasn’t wrong. She took the plate. “This was really kind of you.”
He grabbed a mug from near the stove. “You made coffee.”
She went to the table. “But breakfast is a little more work.”
“Not that much. Eggs and toast is about as basic as it gets.”
They sat and ate. It was good. Simple, like he’d said, but
it would get them through the morning.
He spread jam on his toast. “What needs to be done first?”
“We need to go to the shop and load the van with the big pieces, then get everything over to Cole and Pandora’s and start setup. I’ll do a second run for the smaller things. Boutonnieres, corsages, bouquets, all of that. They need to stay refrigerated for as long as possible anyway.”
He squinted at her. “Aren’t you also a bridesmaid? And Saffie is a junior bridesmaid?”
“Yes to both of those.”
“Well, I’m just a guest. B list, at best. I can make the second run. You’ll have enough to do with all that wedding party stuff.”
She thought about his very generous offer for three seconds before a small wave of panic hit her. “But you don’t know what to bring.”
“You can show me this morning. And how am I going to learn if you don’t let me help?”
“True, but—”
He took her hand. “I know it’s your sister’s wedding. I promise I won’t screw up. Not only do I want her day to be perfect, but I don’t want to add to your stress by getting something wrong.”
She nodded as she chewed, still thoughtful. “It’s hard to give up control.”
“Now you’re preaching to the choir.” He winked at her, and somehow that small gesture smoothed out a little of the panic. “I’m not asking you to give up anything. Just delegate.”
“I know. I get that. Still hard to do. But I’ll try.” She sighed and picked up her toast. “Without Leah, what choice do I have?”
“True. And I’d like to add you should also be able to enjoy today, not spend it working yourself ragged.”
“Stop making so much sense.” She scooped the last bite of eggs onto her fork.
He shrugged, using the remaining triangle of his toast to punctuate his words. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”
She glanced at the time on the microwave. “We should really get moving. How much time do you need to be out the door?”
“I’m assuming we’re starting this early so we have time to change and get ready for the wedding after all the grunt work is done?”
The Detective Wins The Witch (Nocturne Falls Book 10) Page 21