Must Be Magic (Spellbound Book 4)

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Must Be Magic (Spellbound Book 4) Page 12

by Sydney Somers


  “Enough.” Darby’s father raised his voice for the first time. “We’ve all had a long day and rehashing the past won’t help. I suggest we go our separate ways and no one—” his gaze landed on Thomas, “—tells Finn or Bree anything about this tonight.”

  Darby half expected Thomas to challenge her father on this, but he remained silent.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  Darby nodded, following her mother’s troubled gaze to the blood on her dress. “It’s not mine.”

  “Did you want to stay with us tonight?”

  Rising up on her toes, she pressed a quick kiss to her father’s cheek. “I’ll be fine.” Chances were, Dante was either parked outside her bungalow, waiting for her to fill him in, or if he wasn’t, then he knew she was fine and was already doing his own investigation.

  “Okay.” Her father took a step back, waiting for Libby to join him and Darby’s mom. “You’ll see that she gets back to her room?” He directed his question to Bryce.

  “Yes, sir.” Bryce faced his own father. “Good night, Dad.”

  “Bryce—”

  “We’ll talk in the morning.” Judging by the razor-sharp tone of Bryce’s voice, she wasn’t sure how much talking would take place, and felt a little guilty. Twice in one night she’d been the reason the two had argued.

  Bryce nudged her away from the others.

  “Think very hard about what walking down that road again will cost you, son.”

  Bryce stiffened at his father’s warning and kept walking, but let his hand fall away from her back, taking with it the small measure of comfort it offered.

  Outside the wind had picked up, tugging at her hair. Slipping some behind her ear, she stopped halfway down the pathway. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest they part ways here and save them both the awkward conversation destined to follow.

  She knew he’d never agree with her walking back to her bungalow alone, though, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to. The men had probably taken off once they knew the police were around, but she felt safer with Bryce.

  There wasn’t much to say on the walk. She knew it was stupid, but it continued to bother her that he didn’t believe her about Patrick. It had been dark and he had come out of the woods fast, but she knew it was him. What she didn’t know was if Bryce doubted her because of that or because of his father’s influence.

  She chanced a glance from the corner of her eye, and for the first time since arriving on the island saw the Bryce Lancaster she knew from the halls of the courthouse back home—cool, detached and intent on looking anywhere but at her.

  It shouldn’t have been possible to feel her heart break any more. That kind of damage had been done years ago, every hour that had passed when he hadn’t called or showed up had eaten away at another piece of her heart.

  And after she’d suffered through the miscarriage, holding on to Dante when it should have been Bryce, there had been nothing left to hurt.

  For just a moment she thought about telling him the truth now, imagined that he’d be furious with his father for not telling him about the baby, maybe even that he would want to make up for the time they’d lost together.

  But then what?

  They might be able to fool themselves for a few hours, maybe even a few days, but sooner or later they’d have to go back to their regular lives. When it was just the two of them in a place like this—no history, no family drama—they were okay.

  They were better than okay.

  But this wasn’t real. The last time they left paradise everything had fallen apart. Why would it be any different this time?

  Bryce might have been okay with using magic when the men in the woods had been after them, but not beyond that. He’d made that perfectly clear that morning.

  How could she ever be happy if she had to worry about being judged for the way she and her family chose to live their lives?

  Add to that her fear that Bryce would be relieved their baby had never been born or furious with her that she hadn’t tried hard enough to tell him, and she let the past slip away on a breath.

  They reached the steps to her bungalow and he followed her to the door, taking hold of her hand.

  She pressed her lips together, the gentle grip of his hand strong and warm, and hurting so much it took her a second to speak. “He’s never going to let it go, you know.”

  Bryce frowned, and she forced herself to meet his gaze.

  “Your father.” Thomas Lancaster was too convinced she would ruin his son’s life, like she almost had years ago.

  He leaned in, the backs of his fingers brushing her cheek. “This isn’t about my father.”

  “By this, do you mean a temporary truce that shouldn’t have gone so far?”

  “Don’t.” He took another step closer, his hand drifting down to curl around her arm. “Don’t you dare use my father as an excuse to end things.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t end what never really started. We were both kidding ourselves that sex wouldn’t come with strings attached. Our families—”

  “Have nothing to do with this.”

  Raising her chin a notch, she drove her point home. “And what about tomorrow? Or the day after that?” Their families were too important to both of them to act like it didn’t matter.

  He tucked his hands in his pockets, his eyes guarded. “I don’t have a crystal ball to answer that, but I’m not here because of my family or in spite of them.” He glanced away. “I’m here because of what I felt tonight.”

  A dozen things rose to her lips. It’ll never work. We’re too different. We’re not the same people we used to be. But she couldn’t voice a single word of it, afraid of what she might say instead. Like stay.

  He nodded as if he understood everything and nothing at the same time. “So now that you’re done using me, that’s it?” The malicious tone matched the anger that cut across his face.

  “Using you?” she managed. She’d come down here to support her brother’s wedding, determined to avoid more Calder and Lancaster drama and, instead, she’d landed herself right in the middle of it all over again. “I’m not the one burying my head in the sand.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Embracing the anger over the hurt, she met his gaze, feeling the old Bryce slip away already. “That you don’t even know what you’re doing with your life and wanted something to take your mind off that.”

  She hadn’t allowed herself to think about that, told herself it didn’t matter, since they were only here for two days. But now…

  He turned away, but not before she caught a glimpse of pain in his eyes. Or was she just imagining that?

  She crossed her arms to ward off the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the breeze. “I’m just trying to keep the peace. I don’t want to go back to the way things used to be.”

  “Like you said,” he answered, the heartbreaking callousness back in his voice. “Our truce was temporary.” He walked away from her.

  “Bryce…” She gripped the railing. She didn’t want it to end this way, but hadn’t she known from the beginning that it would?

  Somewhere in the last few hours she’d convinced herself that she was wrong about him, that the Bryce she fell in love with in Florida wasn’t gone, but maybe she’d just been kidding herself.

  Even though he hadn’t known the truth about the baby, he’d still refused to return her calls. He’d delivered thoughtless, scathing comments as easily as she had, always assumed the worst about her family, even expected they’d eventually expose their magic to the world.

  Maybe the intense feelings they’d awakened could be enough here, but not back home. Not when he still didn’t trust her, and what just happened with Patrick proved that, didn’t it?

  As much as it made her chest hurt—made her heart hurt—she couldn’t pretend none of that mattered.

  He paused at the bottom of her stairs, waiting.

  She looked down at her feet, h
iding the tears blurring her vision—hot, angry tears for being so stupid a second time.

  “Lock the door and call me if you have any trouble.”

  They both knew she wouldn’t. Not now.

  She waited until he disappeared around the corner, then turned to go inside, spotting Dante at the last moment. He leaned against the tree on the other side of the path, almost lost in the shadows he was so good at using to his advantage.

  Knowing there was nothing to say to her brother when he’d overheard every word, she closed the door.

  Her hand lingered on the handle as if she might change her mind and go after Bryce. Instead, she curled up in the chair by the window and promised herself she was done with Bryce Lancaster. Done.

  * * *

  He was done with the Calders.

  After last night Bryce was tempted to believe his father was right about them being better off if they stayed away from each other. Less complicated. Less painful.

  Less likely they’d run into each other at the airport.

  And for a man who’d decided he was done, his pulse shouldn’t have picked up the second he overheard Darby’s voice nearby.

  Walk the other way.

  His body didn’t listen, and he let his attention slide from his cell phone long enough to note she was arguing with the woman behind the ticket counter. Right then, dressed in faded shorts and a T-shirt, her hair pulled away from her face, she again reminded him of the Darby who’d knocked him off his surfboard.

  Except for the arguing.

  He’d always assumed she saved that attitude just for him. Even Bree had said as much, and he’d had plenty of associates ask him what the deal was when they’d never had any problems working with her or her family. But this morning she wasn’t hiding her frustration with the woman who just kept shaking her head.

  The airport wasn’t all that busy at the moment, likely between planeloads of resort visitors, making it impossible not to overhear the conversation.

  He forced himself to look at the words on his phone and not care that Darby was pleading with the woman about a flight out—a flight that wasn’t going to happen, judging by the woman behind the counter.

  According to Bree, Darby wasn’t scheduled to leave until tomorrow. Apparently, they’d both had the same idea to get the hell out of Dodge. As tempting as it was to linger where there was less pressure to figure out the next phase of his life, he hadn’t wanted to cross paths with Darby.

  Not after last night.

  Part of him knew she’d done them both a favor by putting the brakes on. The other part was still furious that she thought she was no more than a distraction. Maybe he’d been way off base when he’d accused her of using him. Way off base. But he’d just finished dealing with his father and the police, and they’d been fucking shot at.

  All he’d wanted to do was just get her somewhere safe and take a minute to think. And hold her.

  And all she’d wanted to do was let go.

  He should have seen it coming; maybe he would have if he hadn’t been still distracted by what happened in the manager’s office. He’d known going in that their time together had an expiration date, and somehow he’d convinced himself that he was okay with that.

  Apparently he wasn’t. And that made him even more furious. Ten years ago Darby Calder had walked away. Had he actually expected that she wouldn’t do it again? He’d tried everything after Florida to get her to talk to him, had even tried reasoning with Dante weeks later, still unable to get her out of his head.

  By the time that conversation ended, they’d both been bloody. And nothing had changed.

  Which was why he shouldn’t have cared when Darby turned away from the counter, upset and tugging her suitcase after her. Shouldn’t have cared when she yanked it so hard that it wobbled and fell over, one of the wheels snapping off.

  The woman was a walking disaster. It was a wonder the zipper didn’t pop and spill half her clothes—sexy underwear included—across the glossy tile floor.

  Not the wisest train of thought, buddy.

  All of which was his cue to head in the other direction, not toward her, and certainly not to steady her and set the suitcase upright.

  He did it anyway.

  Caught off guard, Darby stumbled back, forcing him to tighten his grip on her arm to keep her on her feet.

  Shock. Relief. Embarrassment.

  He watched the emotions run across her face one after the other before she finally settled on the one he liked the least, the one he’d been seeing for the last four years—indifference.

  After two days of laughing, smiling, stunning Darby, he wasn’t ready to go back to this, even though he knew it had to be that way. They couldn’t be friends. There was too much history between them, too much animosity between their families.

  It would always be complicated with them, and Darby was right—he didn’t know what the hell he was doing with his life.

  “I didn’t think you were leaving until tomorrow?”

  She tugged free of his hold. “Something came up at the office and I need to get back. Unfortunately they’re all booked for flights out until tonight.” She frowned. “How did you manage to get a flight out?”

  “I’m taking my father’s plane back. My mother talked him into staying another few days at a different resort.”

  She tensed at the mention of his father, but forced a polite smile. “Have a good flight.” She made a move to go around him, dragging her busted suitcase after her.

  “You could fly back with me.”

  “Our truce is up,” she reminded him, and he felt like an even bigger asshole for saying that last night.

  But that didn’t make him wrong about where they went from here. Even she had to know there could be no friendly conversation, no casual lunch dates or emails. None of that would ever be enough, not after this weekend.

  “You’re going to sit next to a complete stranger tonight, so just get on the plane now and pretend you don’t know me.”

  Her expression told him it wasn’t a good idea.

  Nothing in the last forty-eight hours had been a good idea. He didn’t see why that should be a problem now. “If you’re needed back home…” He trailed off, wondering what the emergency was. If there even was one.

  “It’s not that big a deal.”

  “I thought something came up at the office?”

  Her attention drifted just long enough to confirm it was just an excuse. She wanted away from here as bad as he did. Away from him. “I don’t want to slow you down.”

  “Won’t be a problem. Unless you’re worried you won’t be able to keep from flirting with me during the flight.”

  She arched a brow, then perfectly echoed, “Won’t be a problem.”

  “The pilot will be relieved to hear that.”

  Stiff-shouldered, she lifted her suitcase when Bryce gestured for her to precede him.

  Less than a minute later he was regretting the impulsive offer. Five minutes after that, he was seriously annoyed with himself for committing to spend the duration of the flight within a few feet of her. Someone he’d just realized he didn’t even have the luxury of being friends with. In fifteen minutes they were on the tarmac, headed for the plane, and he was beyond mad at himself.

  No doubt sensing his frustration, she stopped. “We don’t have to do this.”

  “It was an invitation, not a marriage proposal.”

  “Right.” She glanced back the way they’d come.

  He blew out a breath. “I’m still mad, okay? But that doesn’t mean I can’t do this one thing to help you out. We’ll get on the plane and pretend to read or sleep, and when we land, we’ll go our separate ways.”

  “Okay.”

  A man in airport coveralls stepped out from under the plane. His father always traveled with both his pilot and his maintenance guy, and the guy walking toward them, shoving his hands in his pockets, was neither of the two.

  Bryce craned his neck, following the guy’s
progress inside after they passed, then ushered Darby up the stairs ahead of him. Once he stepped into the plane himself, he immediately approached Miles, the pilot. “Any problems?”

  “Nope. Gerald is planting his ass on a beach for an extra few days, lucky bastard. That guy was just doing a standard check before we take off.”

  Bryce nodded. “Nice tan, by the way.”

  Miles grinned. “Hope my wife thinks so.” He took a sip from his mug.

  “Don’t tell me my dad converted you to his brand of coffee.” One that reminded Bryce of chocolate combined with laundry detergent. No one in the family understood how he could drink the stuff.

  Miles laughed. “I figured I’d finally try it without him watching over my shoulder.”

  “Good call.”

  Picking one of the cabin’s six seats across the narrow aisle from Darby, he settled in.

  “Want a coffee or juice or anything?” He motioned to the mini fridge.

  “No thanks.”

  Having made the offer, Bryce decided on a nap. At least that way he wouldn’t feel compelled to sneak glances at her during the flight. He closed his eyes, glancing at her only as they took off.

  They didn’t talk and somehow he managed to drift off, jolting awake to the sound of Darby screaming.

  “Sorry. Just a little turbulence apparently,” she offered weakly, as the plane rocked again.

  He glanced out the window, surprised that the earlier gray clouds were now dark and angry. The plane dipped momentarily as it struck another air pocket. Another sound of distress left her mouth before she sandwiched her lips so tight they were only a strip of white.

  “Miles is a great pilot.”

  “Well, this would be a pretty crappy time to admit he was a horrible one.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be clear of it soon.”

  “I thought you didn’t have a crystal ball?” Regret flashed across her face.

  He opened his mouth to respond, without a clue what to say, but when the plane dropped sharply, Bryce’s heart slammed into his ribs.

  Something wasn’t right.

  “Miles?”

  “Hang on.” The pained response killed any confidence Bryce had that they were experiencing just a little turbulence. They were losing altitude too quickly.

 

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