“I don’t,” I reply. “They don’t really go together. I do, however, have friends who do. Lena and her grandmother are two of them. And Lena has some psychic ability as well.”
“Why was that funny?”
“None of this is funny,” I reply soberly. “It’s just that many people link witchcraft with being psychic, but they really don’t always have anything to do with each other.”
He stands and paces to the window that looks out over Jackson Square and takes a deep breath.
“Look, if you’re done here, I get it.” I cross to him and touch his shoulder. He doesn’t pull away from my touch, which I take as a good sign. “It’s weird, and for some people it’s scary.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” he replies and turns to me, drawing me in for a long, tight hug. Tears come now, but I don’t want him to see them, so I keep my face buried in his chest and cling to him. “I don’t want to be done here, Mal.”
“I distance myself from people for a reason,” I murmur. “I haven’t done that with you, and it’s felt so good.”
We’ve agreed to be honest, and I really don’t have anything to lose at this point.
Except him.
But I might lose him anyway, so I might as well be frank.
“Why haven’t you done that with me?”
I swallow, not sure how to answer him.
“Part of what I do is, I can read what others feel and think when they touch me, or if I accidentally touch them.”
“That’s why you don’t like to be touched.”
I nod. “It’s an emotional rollercoaster to say the least. Happiness, fear, sadness, anger, and every other emotion there is will hit me like a sledgehammer. I can hear thoughts. Worries. Sometimes it’s as clear as if they’d voiced it aloud.”
“What am I thinking right now?” he asks.
I DON’T KNOW!
“That you’d like me to leave and take my crazy with me?”
He tips my chin up so he can look me in the eyes. “You know that’s not what I’m thinking.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I don’t get it.”
“That’s the thing, Beau. I can’t read you. At all. When you touch me, a cool calmness settles over me that makes me feel…well, safe for lack of a better word.”
“So you can’t tell when I’m so hot for you I can’t stand it? Or when I think you’re funny, or beautiful?”
“I can tell that you’re hot for me because of the way you look at me, but not because I can read your mind.” He smiles down at me like he just won the lottery. “I’ve never experienced this before, Beau. Sometimes it unnerves me when I want to know what you’re thinking, but mostly it’s just such a relief. I am just a woman with you.”
“You’re not just anything, sweetheart, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that it’s a relief for me as well. You’d have me at quite the disadvantage if you knew what I was thinking all the time and I was clueless. How’s a man supposed to surprise you?”
“I’m not wild about surprises. They aren’t usually a good thing.”
“We’ll see if we can change your mind about that,” he says and leans in to kiss my forehead. “And Miss Louisa will just have to get used to me kissing you. In fact, she can go mind her own business.”
I smirk. “It doesn’t creep you out?”
“Having a ghost watch me make love to a beautiful woman?” He tips his head as if he’s giving it real thought. “Well, I’ve never been an exhibitionist in the past, but…” He shrugs. “Do you typically have an audience?”
“No.” I giggle and shake my head. “This was actually a first. I hope we don’t repeat it.”
“Me too.” He sobers and drags his knuckles down my cheek. “How do you feel?”
“Better.” I sigh, realizing it’s the truth. “Much better, actually.”
“That was quite the secret to keep.”
“It’s not that I was trying to keep it a secret. I’d planned to tell you, but in my own time. This is still new, and I’m enjoying you. I didn’t want it to end yet.”
“You’ve told Charly,” he says with a half smile.
“I think she suspected because I’ve said things in the past here and there, but I needed to really confide in someone who knows us both. She gives good advice.” I tentatively reach up to cup his cheek, and he leans into my touch, closing his eyes. “How do you feel?”
“Concerned about you,” he says and kisses my forehead again. “Relieved that you told me the truth. A bit frustrated that the mood is gone because I’m so fucking attracted to you my teeth ache with it.”
Damn.
“That might be the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Just wait until I’m inside you. There ought to be some interesting thoughts coming out of me then.”
I smile and hug him tightly one more time before backing away.
“I should go home.”
“I’ll follow you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to.”
“I know, but it’s late, and this is the French Quarter. If you don’t want to stay here, let me follow you home.”
I shrug as I gather my things. “Thank you.”
The drive home is fast, given the time of night. I pull into my driveway and turn to wave him off, but he cuts his engine and joins me.
“Let me stay.”
I blink, completely surprised.
“Not because I want to have sex with you. That isn’t even part of the equation tonight. But because I want to just be with you.”
He takes my hand, linking our fingers, and I just smile, wanting nothing more than to spend more time in Beau’s arms. “Come on in.”
“Will we have an audience here too? Do I need to censor our conversation?”
“No.” I unlock the door and invite him in. “There are no spirits here. It’s why I bought it.”
“Nothing here to fuck with your head,” he murmurs and drops his keys and wallet on the table next to my handbag. “Would you please show me where your bathroom is?”
“There’s a guest bathroom right over there.”
“No, your bathroom.”
I tilt my head. “The master suite is upstairs.”
“Perfect.” He takes my hand and leads me up the stairs and finds my bedroom on his first try. “You need a hot shower.”
“Do I smell?” I prop my hands on my hips, watching him as he gathers a towel and washrag.
“You smell amazing,” he says, starting the water. “But it’ll help relax you.”
I shake my head, not fully understanding. “Okay.”
“I’m taking care of you,” he says and takes my shoulders in his hands, holding me in front of him. “You may not recognize it, but that’s what I’m trying to do. Help you feel happy and safe.”
“I do feel those things.”
“Good. Now, get in the shower before I strip you naked myself.”
“Um, that wouldn’t be a bad thing,” I reply and pull my shirt over my head and stand before him in my jeans and bra.
“I’m not going to make love to you tonight,” he says as he slips his fingers under my bra strap and yanks me against him so he can kiss the hell out of me. “Get in the shower.”
“Yes, sir.” I give him a mock salute and laugh when he peeks around the door as he closes it behind him.
A shower is a good idea. It’ll give me a few moments to think about everything that happened tonight. Did we really leave my shop to go listen to Declan just five hours ago? It feels like a week’s worth of activities and emotions just happened.
And I’m so damn tired all of a sudden. Beau was right, the hot shower feels good. I didn’t realize I was holding my shoulders up around my ears so tightly. Careful to keep my hair out of the water, I let it beat over my shoulders and neck. I keep a few essential oils in my shower, so I reach for the lavender and let it drop into the water, filling the air with its scent.
It’s lovely.
If this is what it means to let someone take care of you, I could get used to it.
Beau knocks on the door and opens it a crack, but doesn’t poke his head inside.
“Did you drown?”
“Not yet,” I call back.
“Just checking.”
And then the door is closed again. The man was touching me intimately not long ago, and now he’s acting like he’s never seen a naked woman before.
And let’s be honest, I’m sure he’s seen his fair share of naked women.
The thought doesn’t make me jealous, or even feel threatened. I told him some of my deepest secrets, and here we are. He didn’t run away. He didn’t recoil in fear or disgust.
He put me in a hot shower.
I’m pretty sure that’s a good sign.
I cut off the water and dry off, humming to myself. I don’t have any pajamas in here, so I wrap the towel around me and walk out into my bedroom, and feel my jaw drop.
Beau is propped up in my bed, shirtless, under the covers, and glances up from his phone as I come in the room. On the end table next to the empty side of the bed is a steaming cup of tea. The overhead light is off, and instead the lamp next to him is on, casting the room in a soft, romantic glow.
“You said you’re not trying to seduce me tonight?” I ask and walk to the dresser where I find some panties and a tank top. I walk back into the bathroom and quickly pull on my clothes, then return to the bed.
“This isn’t a seduction, darlin’,” he replies with that sexy smile. “Trust me, when I decide to seduce you, it’ll be much different than this.”
“I don’t know, this is pretty sweet.”
“Sweet isn’t a synonym for seductive,” he says and flips the covers back, gesturing for me to join him.
I slip inside, enjoying the way the cool sheets feel against my legs, and slide over to cuddle up with Beau.
This is new. I’ve never been a cuddler. But in this house, where I know I’m safe, and with this man, it’s the best feeling I’ve ever had.
“You’re comfortable.” I yawn and rub my nose against his chest. He has a light spattering of hair there.
“Good. I have to send an email real quick.”
“This late?” I look up at him in surprise.
“It’s not late in Europe. It’s morning there.” He kisses the top of my head and keeps typing on his phone. I’m so relaxed that I drift in and out of sleep, and the next thing I know, he turns the lamp off and guides us both to lie down, me still in his arms.
“Sleep well,” he murmurs.
“You sleep well,” I reply and sink into slumber.
***
I haven’t had this dream before.
I’m sitting on a rock, looking out at a field of bright yellow sunflowers. It’s warm, with just a slight breeze to take the edge off the intense sunshine.
And someone is brushing my hair. When I try to turn my head to see who it is, I’m stuck. I can’t turn my neck.
But I’m not upset. I like the sunshine and the sunflowers. The breeze. And the gentle hands in my hair. They’re braiding it now. Suddenly, a big tractor comes roaring into the field, cutting down all of the flowers.
“Stop!” I yell. I want to stand up and run over to them, and beg them to stop cutting the flowers.
But I can’t move. All I can do is watch the beautiful blooms topple under the tractor and feel the hands in my hair.
“I don’t want the flowers to die,” I whisper and feel a tear fall down my cheek. “Why is he doing this?”
“Because it’s time to reap what he sowed,” my grandmother’s voice says. “He’s going to make many people very happy with those blooms.”
“But I like them where they are.”
She chuckles and smooths the braid on the side of my head.
“It’s not always just about us,” she says, just as she did many times while I was growing up. “Don’t you want him to help others feel better too?”
“I guess.” I tilt my head back so I can feel the sunshine on my face. “You never visit me.”
“I do, you just can’t see me,” she says. I can hear the smile in her voice. My Grandmamma had a beautiful smile.
I often see it in my own when I look in the mirror.
“When will I get to see you?”
“When the time is right. You’re getting closer. And just like that tractor took away your flowers, you may need to lose your Beau when the time arrives.”
“What?” I frown, suddenly remembering Beau. “Why would I lose him?”
“You’ll see.”
I try to shake my head, to turn around and see her, but I can’t.
“Why does the future always have to be so scary? Why can’t you just tell me that everything will work out in the end?”
“Well, that’s a given, love. It will work out in the end, it just may not be what you expect it to be.”
Clouds have begun to form over us, blocking the sun and making me cold.
“I’ve waited a long time to hear from you.”
“I know. I’ve been here, sweet girl. And I’ll continue to be here. You’ll see me when you need me the most.”
“It’s not good enough,” I whisper, just as the hands in my hair stop. “Are you safe? Are you happy? Is your pain gone?” I let the questions tumble from my lips.
“Yes to all of those,” she says. “But I worry for you. Death doesn’t change that. And it certainly doesn’t take away my love for you.”
“I love you too.” She rests her hand on my shoulder, and I can finally move well enough to cover it with mine. “Please don’t go.”
“I’ll be here,” she says again and begins to pull the braid free, her fingers brushing through it, the same way she did when I was young.
“Good morning,” Beau whispers in my ear. His fingers are in my hair, brushing it. “Did you get up and braid your hair while I was asleep?”
I open my eyes and reach up, feeling the last of the braid at the top of my head, and smile.
“Something like that.”
Chapter Seven
~Mallory~
I rest my head on Beau’s chest and sigh, happy that not only did I dream about Grandmamma, but I can remember it. Her voice and her touch are two things I’ve missed very much.
Part of our conversation is starting to slip away. It made me nervous, and I’m not sure why.
“What are you thinking about?” Beau asks softly. His fingertips are making lazy circles on my back, over my tank top.
“I dreamt of my grandmother,” I reply. “I rarely do that, so it was nice.”
“How long has she been gone?”
I frown and hold onto him more tightly. I don’t like to talk about her being gone, and I’ve never told anyone how she died.
“Since I was a teenager,” I reply.
“Are your parents still with us?” I’m relieved he doesn’t ask more about Grandmamma.
“No.” He rolls me onto my back and props his head on his elbow, looking down into my face.
“What happened to them?”
“They were in an accident,” I reply. “I was very little, around three years old. I was staying with Grandmamma at her house in the Bayou, and they had taken my little brother into the city to see the doctor. It was stormy, there was flooding in some places. They probably shouldn’t have gone, but he was very sick.
“On the way back to get me, they were in a head-on collision.”
“Ah, baby, I’m so sorry.” He cups my cheek gently.
I shrug. “I don’t remember it. I don’t see them, any of them. I never have. They just sort of disappeared from my life. So, I always thought I had it easy because I just didn’t remember. My Grandmamma was devastated. She’d been widowed the year before, and then lost the rest of her family so suddenly.”
“So it was just the two of you.”
“Well, yes, but we also had Lena and her grandmother, Miss Sophia.”
“Are Lena’s parents also gon
e?” His brows raise in surprise.
“It’s strange, but yes. Not in the same way. Miss Sophia has raised Lena as her own since she was born. Lena’s mother was a junkie, an all-around lost person. She never knew how to handle her gifts, and so she rebelled, ended up pregnant with Lena.
“Miss Sophia talked her into not having an abortion, and the day after Lena was born, she left and never came back. No one knows who her father might be.”
“I’m sorry,” he says with a frown.
“Don’t be.” I smile and cup his cheek, letting my thumb brush over the light stubble there. “Lena is happy and healthy, and they’re my family.”
He takes my hand in his before I can pull it away and kisses my palm, sending shivers up my arm and into my back. Not to mention the tingles happening between my legs.
I slide my leg between his, loving the feel of his hair against my smooth skin. He kisses my palm again and leans over me farther, pinning my hand to the bed next to my head and leans in to kiss the ever-loving hell out of me.
He’s lazy about it. His lips are soft, moving over my lips, my cheek and jawline, then finding my lips again. My leg is brushing up and down the outside of his, and his impressive erection is pressed into my hip.
Holy fucking shit, he’s impressive.
“I’m going to take this shirt off of you,” he murmurs into my ear and kisses my earlobe, then drags his teeth down it.
“Good idea.”
I feel him smile against my neck, then he rears back and quickly discards the shirt, throwing it aside, and lets his gaze rake over my naked torso.
My nipples are puckered from lust and now the cool air. I’m a curvy woman, with heavy breasts that threaten to fall to my sides when I’m on my back, and he doesn’t seem to mind in the least. He grazes his knuckles gently over the puckered nubs, then leans in and kisses them, sucking them into his mouth and my back arches off the bed.
He pushes his leg snugly against my core, and I rub against him, searching for more… More of him.
God, I’ve never wanted a man so badly in my life!
“You’re beautiful,” he says, brushing my hair off my cheek. His whiskey eyes are shining as he cups my breast and teases the nipple again, gently rolling it between his fingers. “You have the softest skin.”
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