Bewitching You

by Estrella, Viola

  “You hurt me too. You left me, Hayes.”

  “I know.” He reached out, but seemed to change his mind. “But I can’t change the past. I can only attempt to make the future better.”

  “For Grayson?” Rachel let go of the tears welling up in her eyes. “Is he with that waitress?”

  “Yes, but you don’t need to worry about that.”

  “I knew it.” She tried to keep her hands from shaking. “Did he fuck her?”

  “Rache, why do you care?”

  “He was going to be my husband. I was going to spend the rest of my life with—”

  “Because I wasn’t here,” Hayes yelled, startling her. “If I hadn’t died, he never would’ve proposed to you, and you never would’ve accepted.”

  “But you did die,” she yelled back. “Grayson was all I had left, and you took him from me. Now I have no one.” Her legs grew wobbly, and she collapsed onto her knees. How absolutely pathetic. But if she couldn’t have Hayes, what was the point of ever getting up?

  He knelt beside her and disappeared as he wrapped his arms around her. “You have you, baby. Don’t ever forget that. You’re too good to be trapped in a loveless marriage. Life has too much potential. And you…”

  Rachel felt him lift her chin with his finger and kiss her lips. She savored the nearness, the honey taste of his lips, the soft yet firm caress.

  He released her too soon and reappeared before her. His eyes were reddened. “You are too beautiful and intelligent and sweet to sit inside this apartment and act like life is over. If you really want someone to love you, then love yourself, baby. You deserve that.”

  His words stung. Was he right? In her heart, she knew he was. She couldn’t remember the last time she could look in the mirror with pride, knowing she was the woman staring back at her.

  “Will you promise me something, Rache?”

  She nodded, swiping the tears from her face.

  “Do something for yourself with no one else in mind. Not Grayson, not me, and most definitely not your parents. Make it special. Make it count. Something you’d never give yourself in a million years. Can you do that?”

  “I could try.”

  “Good.” He stood and helped her to her feet. “I love you, Rachel. You can always hold that in your heart. I can’t give you happily ever after, but you can find it on your own.”

  “Hayes?”

  “Yeah?” He held her close. She could tell he was struggling to be all there for her because of the way his body trembled.

  “I love you too. I always will.”

  “I know. I have to go. Don’t forget your promise to me.”

  He faded slowly from her touch and her sight.

  Then he was gone.

  Rachel let the last tear fall from her cheek. That was it for crying. She’d be strong. She had to be. For herself.

  The white envelope her mother had left her was sitting on the coffee table. She picked it up and glimpsed inside at the plane tickets.

  Something she’d never do in a million years? Oh, yeah, this was it.

  ~ * ~

  Gray helped Sofia into the boat. She shook out a blanket and dropped down with the picnic basket and her sketchbook. There was only one seat for the rower, so Gray sat there with a fishing pole he’d found in the basement. He’d try some bologna for bait, like his dad had shown him many years ago.

  He glanced at their surroundings. Trees lined over half of the lake’s bank, but it seemed most of them were removed or didn’t grow on this half.

  Only a few stood, shading the water. It was beautiful all the same.

  The skies had patches of clouds here and there. No major threat of rain. They’d have a couple of good hours out on the water, at least.

  The boat seemed like it’d had its day. The red and white paint was chipping and some parts of the wood were splintering. But the boat was sturdy, and the water looked tempting. Speaking of tempting, Sofia had on a white tank top, no apparent bra, and khaki shorts she’d changed into after they’d showered together. Originally, he’d wanted to take her right back to bed to satisfy the growing need to have her as close as possible. To hold her and make love to her until they couldn’t stand it anymore. Sofia convinced him otherwise, reminding him of the boat and what a fun time they’d have.

  He still wore his jeans and that was it. Sofia had insisted on washing his clothes again. They were hanging on the line next to some bed sheets and a couple pairs of her panties she’d blushed about after he’d noticed them.

  “Okay, Captain Phillips, I’m ready.” Sofia pulled a large pink-flowered floppy hat out of the basket and stuffed it on her head. She looked adorable.

  After launching the boat away from the dock, Gray grabbed the oars and started rowing to the middle of the lake. He couldn’t help but wonder if in an alternate universe, he’d be out on the ocean with Hayes in a much larger boat. They’d drink beers and fish, not caring if they caught anything because they’d be laughing at a stupid, pointless joke—the best kind—and having the time of their lives.

  Of course, now Gray would want Sofia to be there to laugh along with them. She’d fit in perfectly with her down-to-earth sweetness and sense of humor.

  Snap out of it, Gray. Hayes isn’t coming back.

  But he did have Sofia. “You ever come out here before?”

  She glanced at him from underneath the ridiculously large brim. “When I was a kid. I used to visit Nana during summer break, and she’d send me out here if I started whining about being bored. The Amish kids would come over and swim with me. There were tons of them, and they all seemed to be related in some way. The girls, for the most part, just stared at me as if I were some sort of specimen to analyze and whisper about. The boys were bolder. They stripped down to their underwear and jumped right in. Needless to say, I had more fun with the boys. Actually, I had my first kiss out here.”

  “Really? Tell me more.” If only to hear the sound of her voice.

  “I was twelve, just starting to fill my training bra, if you know what I mean. His name was Elijah, and he was sixteen. He was really cute, despite the bowl haircut and suspenders.”

  Gray laughed. “I can’t believe your first kiss was with an Amish kid.”

  “What’s so funny? He had game like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “What did he do? Woo you with his horse and buggy?”

  “No, he cornered me in back of the shed.”

  “Hmm.” Gray didn’t know how to respond to that. His shoulders tensed at the thought of how naïve Sofia must have been at the age of twelve. He pulled the oars in and laid them out behind him. “Did he do anything else besides kiss you?”

  She smiled up at him, the shadow from the hat covering her face. “Jealous?”

  “Of you getting taken advantage of by a sixteen-year-old Amish kid? Where was your grandmother during all this?”

  “Taken advantage of? Please. He kissed me. That was all. And maybe brushed his hand against one of my boobs accidentally on purpose. It was all innocent.”

  “Did it happen more than once?”

  “No.” Sofia sighed and slumped down. “That night I dreamed of him making out with this girl named Johanna. She hated me. The little twit used to call me Fancy Nancy.”

  “So you dumped him?”

  “More or less.” She shrugged. “I spent the rest of my time here locked in the guest bedroom. I hate my dreams sometimes.” Her eyes grew wide and she grasped his knee. “Not the ones of you, of course. Those are my favorite.”

  Gray leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. “I could see that last night.”

  She rearranged her hat and sat back on her bottom.

  “What was up with the other dream? The one that frightened you?”

  Frowning, she glanced down at her sketchbook she’d placed in her lap. “There’s nothing I can do yet for that vision. I can only hope I figure it out before all those people die.”

  “How often do you have these sorts of dreams, wh
ere you feel obligated to help?” He pinched off a piece of bologna he’d retrieved from the picnic basket and baited the hook of the fishing pole.

  “Depends. Sometimes nightly, sometimes once a month.” She opened the sketchbook and put her pencil to it. “Doesn’t that make you want to run screaming from here?” A half-giggle stopped short.

  “Is that what other guys have done?” Gray had wondered why she’d remained a virgin into her twenties.

  “No, they never got the chance to.” Her hand whipped across the page, but she held the book at an angle so Gray couldn’t see. “You’re the only one who’s passed the dream stage. I usually find out a man’s not my destiny before the second date, before they’ve had the chance to find out about my little gift.”

  He cast the line into the water, pleased with where it had landed. “Do you think I’m your destiny then?” The question slipped off his tongue. Although he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  She looked up for a second and then back to her drawing. “Time will tell, I suppose.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sofia peeked up at him again, taking in another detail. Today was the first time she was able to sketch him in person and not just from memory. He was such a gorgeous creature. All tanned muscle and broad shoulders against a tree-lined lake setting. This would be her favorite sketch to paint thus far, she was sure of it.

  His stomach muscles clenched each time he cast the line, she noticed. Good idea washing his clothes, Sofe. She gave herself a mental pat on the back.

  “What are you drawing?” he asked.

  “You.” What was the point in being shy now?

  He smiled and set the fishing rod in a secure spot. “Can I see?”

  “Nope.”

  “Please.”

  “Okay, but only a peek.” She turned the book around to show him the current sketch.

  He grabbed it from her with ease.

  “Gray!” She reached for the book, but he held her back with one hand.

  “Hold on, sugar. I want to see.” His dark eyes roamed over the almost-complete picture. “This is really good.”

  “Thanks. Can I have it back now?”

  “Why? What else is in here?”

  “Nothing.” Just evidence of her obsession with him. No biggie. She grabbed for the sketchbook again, but he held it high out of reach. The boat rocked underneath them, and she panicked and gripped the sides.

  “If it’s nothing, you wouldn’t mind if I have a look.” He flipped the page.

  “I—” She had no words. Warmth rushed to her cheeks. What a bully he was.

  “You what?” He sifted through the rest, narrowing his eyes at certain things.

  “What do you think? I’m embarrassed.”

  “Why?” He stopped at a page that must have caught his eye. “You have talent, Sofia. I love this one the best. The passion. The details. It’s amazing.” He handed the book back finally.

  Sofia blew out a breath and warily peeked down at the one he’d chosen. It was the both of them in a naked embrace, their bodies entangled together in a bed sheet.

  His finger edged her face up to look at him as he knelt down before her. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I hope you’re not, because I love them. Every one of them.”

  “And what if I said I had paintings of them as well?” Sofia decided to throw it all out there. Every bit of mortifying honesty. “Lined up in my bedroom and in my closet.”

  “I…I’d say I was extremely flattered.” If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was doing the blushing now.

  “And?” Scared out of his mind? Wanting to get a restraining order?

  “And I love that you want to draw me. It tells me a lot.”

  “Like?”

  “It tells me you thought about me. And I hope it means that you wanted me. Maybe possibly that you might...love me.” He waved his hand to get the last two words out and then cocked his head. “Of course I could be wrong.”

  Sofia panicked and asked the first question that sprang to mind. “Where did you get those condoms anyway?”

  He flinched, then exhaled and sat back on the bench. “In one of the cupboards above the sink area. Your grandmother must’ve left them for you. It had a note that said they were for you.”

  “Nuh uh. Are you kidding me?” This was interesting news and something to take her mind off the love comment. He’d hit the bull’s eye on that one. There was no chance she’d admit it, though. She could vividly picture his alarmed expression if she were to blurt out what she really felt about him. Oh, Gray, I fell in love with you before I even met you. I want to marry you and have your babies.

  No. Not gonna happen.

  “Why do you think she left those for you?”

  “Gosh, I don’t know.”

  Probably in case her dream man showed up, but how would Nana even fathom that was a possibility? Ergh. The women in this family were too unpredictable. Sofia had some tough questions lined up for Nana, especially after seeing all the witchcraft stuff in the shed.

  He cast the line out again and stared out at the water. “Were you seeing anyone else?”

  “Me?” She let out a laugh. “Remember, I’m the girl who can’t seem to get to a second date.”

  His shoulders visibly relaxed as his dark eyes swept over her. This was one of many times she wished she had Nana’s mindreading powers. The emotions that shifted over his face seemed to run the gamut. If he’d just pick one, she could read him better.

  Ah, well.

  “A sandwich would hit the spot, right?” She opened the wooden braided picnic basket and pulled out two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on wheat bread.

  “Thanks.” Gray took the sandwich and bit into it.

  Sofia handed him a paper cup filled with milk from the thermos. He finished his sandwich and drank the milk down without a word. She nibbled, watching him warily.

  “Tell me about your childhood,” she said.

  “Are you sure there’s fish in this lake?”

  She shrugged. “Were you a happy boy? Did your mommy give you enough hugs?”

  “You said your Nana has the lake stocked every so often.”

  “I said my Nana talked about getting it stocked every so often. Did you and your brother get along?”

  His shoulders bunched up again. “Am I wasting my time then?”

  Uh oh. Sofia scooted up and wedged her body between his thighs. “I’ll tell you if I’m wearing underwear or not, if you tell me about your childhood.”

  He dropped the pole behind him and slid his hands around and down the curve of her butt. “How about we skip all the talk and you show me?”

  The idea was tempting, but… “No, Gray. I want to know more about you.”

  A drop of rain landed on his nose, and he looked up at the sky. “Thank you, God,” he said, overdramatically. “We better get back to the dock.”

  “After you tell me.”

  “Sofia, we don’t want to be out on a lake during a rainstorm.”

  “It was one sprinkle, you wimp. Tell me. Please.”

  “Fine.” He took a breath and began his rant. “Hayes and I didn’t fight much, but if my mom were alive, I’m sure she’d say different. She loved us, but I think sometimes she wanted to wring our necks. She passed away after a long bout with breast cancer when I was fifteen. My dad was about sixty years old at the time. He’d had us late in life, but he kept up his health until we left for college. After, he seemed to fall apart, and passed away when I was nineteen. Hayes and I were devastated, but we knew he’d had a long, happy life, so we were able to get through it okay.”

  Some more rain dropped down around them, but Sofia didn’t care. The man had been through hell. “And then you lost Hayes. How awful for you.”

  “I don’t want your pity. I want to see you naked.”

  “That’s not funny, Gray.” More rain splattered on them and the lake around them. Water dripped off her hat and down her back.

&nbs
p; “I’m not laughing.” He drew her close, crowding her breasts to his chest. “I don’t want to talk about all that stuff. I don’t want to think about it. I just want you for as long as this thing between us will last. Do you understand?”

  For as long as this thing would last?

  Sofia nodded, her chest knotting painfully. She understood perfectly.

  ~ * ~

  By the time they reached the dock, the rain was pelting down. Gray tied up the boat while Sofia grabbed her picnic basket and sketchbook. Water drenched her white tank top, revealing her dark nipples. The wet fabric outlined her plump breasts, making him ache to touch her.

  He met her gaze, and she didn’t seem pleased with the ogling. She clasped the sketchbook in front of her and ran toward the house without looking back.

  Now that Gray thought about it, she hadn’t glanced or said a word to him since they started rowing back.

  Idiot. What the hell had he said wrong this time?

  He left the fishing pole and followed her through the yard, stopping short to grab the clothes off the line. Everything was soaked again. He flung them over his arm and ran up the porch, leaving the sheets. The clothes could dry on the bench under the porch roof, he thought, and threw them down one by one in no specific order.

  The sound of horses clopping down the street surprised Gray. Why would anyone take a dead-end road to this house unless they were planning on visiting? The horse and buggy turned off the road and onto the dirt lane. The horses trotted up, pulling the thin wheels of the carriage through the dips and loose stones.

  Gray grabbed his t-shirt and tugged it on as the man in the buggy called the horses to a stop.

  An Amish man wearing a brown shirt, black pants and suspenders dropped down onto the ground and jogged toward the house. Water dripped down the plain black hat that concealed most of his face.

  “Hey there,” the stranger yelled, and stopped at the top of the steps, barely out of the threat of rain. He stood eye-to-eye and width-to-width with Gray.

  “Can I help you?” Gray straightened his back and shoulders. It wasn’t often he met a man his own size.

  “Penny Jones home?” He had a slight accent Gray couldn’t quite describe. Measured and lifted toward the end, maybe? A thick beard covered half of his rugged face. And his shifty blue eyes shot Gray an inquisitive look.