Holiday Magic

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Holiday Magic Page 37

by Tl Reeve


  “Sorry about Walt,” she said softly.

  Nate shrugged. “Finley apparently hadn’t debriefed him because something came up on one of his cases. It’s fine.”

  “Do you need to go in? Should I grab something to, I don’t know, entertain myself?” Aubrey suddenly felt like she was ten again and going to work with her dad. How was this going to go exactly? She had a job she was expected to start soon. Was Nate going to work with her too?

  “No. We’re good here for the day.”

  “Don’t you have work?” She frowned at him.

  “I do, and I’m currently doing it.” He grinned at her and then winked. That winking thing had to stop. His smiling needed to stop too. Both made her stomach do little flips.

  “Okay,” she said slowly.

  “What about you?”

  “I don’t start until next Monday,” she said softly. They hadn’t yet talked about the fact that she’d just moved here. Surely he’d figured that out from her packed up apartment.

  “Good, that gives us some time.” He was still messing around with his tablet, reminding Aubrey of her last boyfriend. He was far too busy playing games to pay attention to her. As if reading her mind, Nate suddenly discarded the device and stared at her. “What do you want to do today? I’m assuming sitting around here isn’t top on your list of desires.”

  His apartment was really nice, and from the large living room windows, she could see snow lazily floating to the ground, captured moments from the heavens slowly descending to earth. She could sit on his overstuffed leather couch, wrapped up in a blanket—or his arms—and watch the snow all day.

  Her stomach rumbled, grounding her back in reality. “I’m kind of hungry, actually.”

  “Been to Jaina’s Diner yet?”

  “No, but I heard it’s amazing.” She’d been hearing about Jaina’s Diner for years. Her friend Summer frequented the establishment on nearly a daily basis and was constantly raving about the scones.

  “It is. Great food. Great people.”

  “I also heard the owner doesn’t let you pick your meal. You get what you get. That might not work for me.” Aubrey was staring out the large black-framed windows. She’d not seen much snow in the last couple years, but she remembered how it felt like cold kisses on her face when she’d tilt her head back, mouth open in the hopes of catching a few flakes on her tongue.

  “Why not? Picky eater?”

  She looked over and found him watching her. She nearly forgot his question, suddenly aware of how focused he was on her. There was a huge television opposite the couch, and she was sure there was football on at least one station. His tablet sat on the wide-arm of the leather chair he was occupying, and his phone was on the coffee table. And yet he wasn’t trying to steal away glances to any of those things. He seemed to be concentrating entirely on her. And he was waiting for her response.

  “Allergic to legumes.”

  He nodded at her answer and asked, “Legumes being beans?”

  “And peanuts, but yes, beans.”

  “Jaina won’t kill you. It’s bad for business. Come on.” He rose and grabbed his keys from the coffee table in the process. His phone went in his pocket without his finger brushing over the screen to take a look at any potential waiting news or messages.

  When they were on the sidewalk, bundled in their coats, she decided to dive into some questions of her own. “So, you have a roommate?”

  “Is that really your question?” He grinned down at her. Soft snowflakes glistened wet in his hair.

  Aubrey tried to convince herself that her cheeks were flushed from the cold air. Not from her embarrassment, and not from the surge of heat that she felt when he grinned at her like that. “Well, initially I’d assumed a girlfriend, but then what man with a girlfriend who wears underwear like what’s in that dresser keeps her in a separate bedroom?”

  “Gross,” he muttered.

  She couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Gross?”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to know about my sister’s underwear.” Nate winked at her.

  He really needs to stop that.

  “So your sister lives with you?”

  “Not exactly. It was her place. I moved in, she moved out, mostly. She has one extra roommate in the house she’s sharing with some college friends, so some of her stuff is still at my place. Including, apparently, her fancy underwear. It’s a temporary situation. The extra roommate, I mean.”

  “Are you two close?”

  “Lauren is pretty awesome, so yeah, we’re close.”

  Aubrey noticed that he made a point of walking between her and the street, even when crossing at an intersection meant he had to switch sides. She grinned at his chivalry. Who knew gentlemen still existed?

  “Did Lauren decorate the place?”

  If she was asking too many questions, too many personal questions, he didn’t seem to mind.

  “Your room? Yeah, that’s her stuff.” He stopped in front of an old greasy spoon diner and opened the door for her.

  Clearly, the stuff in the guestroom is hers. That’s not what I’m getting at. “And the rest of the place?”

  He flashed her another smile, and she knew he wasn’t clueless. He was drawing out the answer to tease her. “My stuff from Denver.”

  Bingo. His stuff. His taste. That apartment was a reflection of him. Was that so hard?

  Aubrey paused just inside the doorway, grinning as the amazing smells assaulting her. Any thoughts of tearing apart the memory of his apartment to analyze who this guy was were lost to the void of her hungry stomach. “Oh my God, I’m in love.”

  “Welcome to Jaina’s,” Nate whispered in her ear before placing his hand on her lower back and pushing her toward a booth. With the layers of fabric between his flesh and hers, there was no electric zap, just a gentle humming sensation.

  The diner was too fucking cute. Aubrey wasn’t sure she’d ever leave. This was her home now. This is where she belonged. Here, in this diner that looked like a legitimate fifties diner. It wasn’t over the top with excessive chrome finishings, and flamboyant teals, pinks, or black and white square tiles. It was classic, and worn, and loved. And it smelled like pie—apple and cherry—and sugar cookies, and cinnamon. And bacon. It definitely smelled like bacon. Rounding out the smells of winter solstice time and home were nutmeg and ginger.

  An elderly woman shuffled around the long counter toward them and said, “Nathaniel Evans, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “Jaina, this is Aubrey Dalton. Aubrey, Jaina.”

  “Oh, she’s perfect.” Jaina crooned, slapping his arm.

  “She’s my boss’s niece,” he said firmly.

  Aubrey sat completely still as she watched them, mesmerized by everything that was Jaina’s Diner, including Jaina herself. This was what an old crone witch looked like. This was how they smelled, and moved, and talked. How they meddled.

  But Aubrey hadn’t missed how Nate made sure to set the old witch straight. He wasn’t interested in Aubrey. Totally fine. Exactly as it should be.

  “Sure she is, and lovely. Hello, dear. Now let me see, yes, I know just what you need. Let me get you an eggnog before we talk.” Jaina patted her arm and headed back to the kitchen.

  “Eggnog is my favorite,” Aubrey whispered to Nate.

  He leaned a little closer and whispered, “She knows.”

  “She’s a witch, isn’t she?”

  “I’m a witch and I didn’t know your favorite drink is eggnog.”

  Aubrey craned her neck around so she could watch Jaina move around behind the counter. “So she’s clairvoyant, too?”

  “You’re adorable,” he muttered, his voice suddenly even nearer.

  She turned back to face him and found he leaned forward, across the table. The hum along her skin was steady, and she wanted to drown in the feeling, have it wrap around every square inch of her body until she was completely consumed.

  Nate plucked a dried leaf from her hair and showed it to he
r by way of explaining his proximity. She stared at the curled green leaf, trying to figure out where it could have come from. As if seeing her confusion, he pointed toward the door of the diner. A sprig of mistletoe hung over the entrance. All of the berries were gone.

  “No more berries, so no more kissing,” she murmured. Nate chuckled and leaned back in the booth.

  Jaina reappeared with a black tea for him, and Aubrey’s eggnog. The old woman gave her a curious frown and then reached a hand out, digging for something in Aubrey’s hair. A wrinkled hand dropped a white berry into Aubrey’s hand beside the mistletoe leaf. “Looks like you caught the last one.”

  Aubrey looked across the table to Nate, who was stirring his tea. Steam wafted from the mug.

  “Oh.” It was the weakest word, but the only one Aubrey could find.

  Jaina looked from Aubrey to Nate, and then back. “Well, go on. It’s good luck.”

  “She’s just going to stand there until we do,” he said to Aubrey with an apologetic smile. She nodded in response and slid forward on the vinyl booth until the table stopped her. They both strained forward across the table. That gentle hum that was becoming almost ordinary ramped up to the full buzz that usually led to a jolt of energy passing from one to the other.

  Aubrey closed her eyes, trying to ignore the sensation even though she’d been craving it. She pushed forward a little further, leaning her weight on the table. There was no jolt, no electric shock when their lips met. Instead, that tingling sensation raced through her entire body, awakening every nerve. When she parted her lips to gasp at the consuming heat produced by that shock wave, his lips parted too, and she hungrily found his tongue with hers.

  It wasn’t enough. She wanted to crawl over the table and press her entire body against his. This new pulsing, buzzing, electric sensation was like a drug. Even as she had a taste of it, she wanted more. She needed his hands on her. And she nearly begged him to touch her.

  But her hand was near a coffee spoon, and as she tilted her head to try to deepen the kiss, a spark leapt from her hand to the spoon, or from the spoon to her hand. She wasn’t sure which. The spark was enough to snap her back to the diner, and the fact an elderly woman was standing beside their table with a shit-eating grin on her face.

  Aubrey sat back, painfully aware that she was breathing far heavier than necessary. Nate licked his lips, and she thought she was going to crumble. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to ignore the wetness between her legs and how her breasts ached.

  He stared at her for a minute, and then looked over to Jaina. Aubrey slowly slid her gaze to the old woman too, aware of her own blush. Knowing she probably looked like a cat in heat.

  Jaina looked triumphant. “Now, dear, let me see you. Yes, you’re radiant, aren’t you? Nathaniel, she’ll keep you on your toes.”

  “Jaina, she’s not—”

  Jaina glared at him. “Shh, don’t start with me.” She turned toward Aubrey with a warm grandmotherly smile. “Miss Aubrey, I believe you had questions for the Elders. Let me tell you, some of the Elders have agendas. You should be careful. But if you have questions, I can help you, dear.”

  Aubrey looked from Jaina to Nate, and then back to Jaina. “Don’t you have an agenda?”

  The old crone threw her head back and laughed. “Oh dear me, you’re a hoot. Of course, I have an agenda. Love, dear. Love is my ultimate quest. And I’m good at it, so don’t listen to this pessimist.” She patted Nate’s arm. “But you’re not here looking for love, are you, dear? No, you want to understand who you are.”

  Aubrey shifted her weight, and stared at her eggnog. How did Jaina know that? Because she’s a special kind of witch, you idiot.

  “Jaina? What have you heard?” Nate asked.

  “Rumors is all. And those aren’t worth cat piss, are they? But now that I see you, I’m intrigued. You’re related to Walt Dalton?” Jaina looked unconvinced.

  “Not by blood, no. I was adopted.”

  “Oh, you poor dear. Dark past, is it? Pain? Loss? And then more pain?” Jaina studied her, pulling at Aubrey’s hand until her palm was stretched up to the woman. But Jaina didn’t look at her palm, instead she covered the open hand with her own and laced her fingers through Aubrey’s. “No, you’re no witch.”

  “No, ma’am,” Aubrey whispered.

  “Oh, Nathaniel, did you hear that? She called me ma’am.” Jaina hooted and Nate smiled. “What’s he to you?” The old woman asked, her face falling with seriousness as she looked at Aubrey.

  “Excuse me?”

  “My Nathaniel. What is he to you?”

  “I, uh. . .” Aubrey shifted again uncomfortably. What could she say to that after the show she’d given Jaina over that stupid mistletoe berry. The truth is usually a good place to start. “He’s protecting me.”

  “I didn’t ask what you were to him, dear child, I asked what he is to you.”

  “We just met.”

  Jaina made a disapproving clicking noise with her tongue and pulled her hand away from Aubrey. “Child, you don’t pull on a man’s power and have him mean nothing to you.”

  “Jaina, she didn’t—” Nate protested.

  “Nathaniel, I’m not talking to you right now,” Jaina snapped. “Now, Miss Aubrey, either you don’t know what you do, or you’re plotting something wicked. So which is it? We’ve only just met and my eyes can only see so far. But I know a liar, so don’t try to deceive me.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t do anything to—I mean I don’t know how I did what I did. He was going to die, and so I just—I couldn’t let him die.” Aubrey’s voice softened as she talked until she was barely whispering.

  “Then you don’t know what you are or how to control it.” Jaina sighed and looked to Nate. “She’s in real danger.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ve figured that out without having second sight,” he replied.

  6

  Aubrey was sitting at Nate’s work desk, lost in her cell phone. He didn’t know if she was playing a game or doing something productive. Either way, she seemed to have found a way to entertain herself while he met with his colleagues in his boss’s office.

  His thoughts drifted back to Jaina’s Diner and how her lips had felt pressed against his. If they hadn’t been sitting in that stupid diner for all to see, he would have pulled her onto that table and tasted all of her, working his mouth over her entire body until she moaned like she had when he’d woken her the night before.

  He’d been fantasizing about that moan. He wanted to hear it again on her lips, and soon. And while it was one thing to be thinking about getting his boss’s niece naked, it was a whole other problem to be thinking that way about someone who was in his care. He needed to get off this assignment. Nate turned his attention back to Dalton and realized the whole team was looking at him, waiting.

  “I’m sorry, sir, what?” he asked.

  “Jesus man, pay attention to something other than—” Davis swallowed whatever snide comment he had and straightened in his seat. Yeah, go on and say something suggestive about your boss’s niece.

  “Evans, I think we need to find a more permanent solution,” Dalton said, ignoring Davis like he always did.

  “Like what, sir? I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of something that will provide an adequate level of security but allow Aubrey to live her life without feeling like she’s being watched constantly.” And that will allow me to get her in my bed without making me feel like an asshole.

  Nate found himself watching the blonde again through the office window. She’d discarded her phone and was looking over his desk. She nudged the mouse and he rolled his eyes. Was she snooping? Seriously? And then she opened his desk drawer, removing any doubts as to what she was doing. Yes, she was snooping. He dug his phone out of his pocket and sent her a text.

  Nate: Stop that.

  Aubrey: Just looking for a pen.

  Nate: They’re in the cup next to the monitor.

  He watched
her look at the cup and grin mischievously.

  Aubrey: Aren’t you in some meeting. Shouldn’t you be doing something other than spying on me.

  Nate: It’s my job to watch you.

  Aubrey: Like a hawk?

  He chuckled and rolled his eyes.

  “Dude, stop flirting and pay attention,” Davis grumbled. Nate glared at him.

  “Maybe one of us could move her into our place until we’re able to wrap this up,” Hobbs said, redirecting them back to work.

  “Yeah, I have space.” Davis grinned at Nate, and then blew him a kiss when Dalton wasn’t looking.

  “She refuses to work with you,” Dalton replied, staring down at the lab work he’d received on his niece. Nate had been trying, when not keeping an eye on Aubrey, to read the results upside down.

  “I’m hurt.” Davis frowned.

  “She’s only just moved here, Hobbs. And she starts work on Monday. I think she’d prefer to stay at her own place,” Nate said, eyes on the report. From what he could see, there weren’t any indicators on the blood work that anything was out of the normal range. That was usually marked with an asterisk or bolded.

  “Then someone would need to move in with her. Or rent the apartment next door,” Hobbs countered.

  “She’s not going to like that,” Nate replied, and then sighed when his phone buzzed.

  Aubrey: Hawkeye, why so serious?

  Nate: Two different IPs, Blondie.

  Aubrey: I didn’t know you were such a nerd, babe.

  Nate: Wow, I get two pet names? Upgrade.

  Aubrey: That wasn’t the response I was hoping for.

  Nate: I’m not going to stop calling you Blondie, Blondie. Get over it.

  Aubrey: Okay, babe. Prepare thyself for my wrath.

  Nate: Lucky for me, you’re not Kahn.

  Aubrey: I see what you did there.

  “Evans,” Dalton said sternly.

  “Sorry, sir.” He slid the phone back into this pocket.

  “Why don’t we talk to Aubrey?” Finley suggested.

  “Best idea I’ve heard yet,” Dalton said, turning to Nate. “Go on and text her.”

  Davis snorted out a laugh, but Nate ignored him.

 

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