Easy Magic

by Kristen Proby

  “You do help me,” she says. “There’s a reason that I can’t read you, Beau. You ground me, and you are my safe place. I felt you with me last night when I was fighting the darkness, and it was you that pulled me back. I needed you. I don’t have to guard myself when I’m with you. I’m just a woman, not a psychic woman, when I’m with you. That is what you bring to my life, and that’s what you should be for me.”

  “I’m learning that,” I reply. I can’t keep my hands off of her any more. I slowly cross to her and drag my knuckle down her cheek. “I’m sorry that I’ve been an idiot. I can’t promise that I’ll never be an idiot again, but I’ll never intentionally hurt you again.”

  She grins, turns her lips to my palm, and kisses it. “Apology accepted. And I apologize too.”

  “For what?”

  “For making you feel like you were out of the loop. I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?” She’s watching my lips now, and the mood has shifted from apprehensive to longing.

  I want her.

  I glide the pad of my thumb over her lower lip, then replace it with my own lips, sweeping back and forth, soaking in the taste of her. She anchors her hands at my sides, fisting my shirt as I devour her mouth.

  “I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

  “Good,” she mutters as I cup her ass and lift her to me. She wraps her legs around my waist and buries her face in my neck, kissing and biting. My semi-hard is a semi no more. I spin and set her on the countertop, spread her wide, and grind myself against her through my pants and her jeans.

  “Need you.” My voice is gruff. She manages to shimmy out of her jeans and reaches for my pants as well. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

  “That’s convenient,” she replies as her hands slide down my bare ass. “Have I mentioned that you have a great ass?”

  “Not today.”

  She bites her lower lip. “Great ass.”

  “You have a phenomenal ass,” I reply as I nestle myself between her legs and just let my cock slip between her wet folds. “Gorgeous tits.” I suckle on one, and then the other. Her head falls back with a sigh of pleasure. “The softest skin I’ve ever seen.”

  “Jojoba and melaleuca oils,” she mutters, making me grin.

  “They work.”

  “I know.” She gasps when I reach between us and lightly rub the tip of my cock over her clit. “You’re really talented with that.”

  “It’s a multipurpose tool,” I reply and slip inside her. “Fucking hell, you’re wet, sugar.”

  “Your fault,” she says with a gasp, arching her back. “You’re sexy.”

  Her hand roams from her breast to her pussy, pressing on her clit and then on the base of my cock.

  She clenches around me, and it’s almost more than I can take.

  “Not so fast,” I pant and pull her hand up to kiss her fingers. “I’m not ready to come yet.”

  “No?”

  “No.” I pick her up and carry her, still inside her, to the bedroom and lower us both to the bed. I don’t want to fuck her senseless, I want to make love to her. I brace my elbows beside her head and she cradles my pelvis between her thighs, and we just stay like this for a moment, staring into each others eyes. “I love you so much, Mallory.”

  Her brow furrows in surprise, and tears pool in her gorgeous blue eyes.

  “Don’t cry.”

  “I’ve seen the love,” she says. “I’ve seen it in your eyes, and I’ve felt it when you hold me, but it’s an entirely different thing to hear it.”

  “I said it last night,” I remind her.

  “Yes, and then it felt like things had shifted overnight, like you had a chance to really think about what I am, and were having second thoughts.”

  “Not second thoughts,” I reply and brush my fingers through her hair. “I was just confused, and I’m an overthinker. Dad told me to cut that shit out and enjoy you.”

  “I love your dad,” she says with a grin.

  “I love you,” I whisper against her lips. “You’ll get used to hearing it because I plan to say it every day, just to remind you.”

  “That’s lovely,” she says. I move my hips slowly, pulling out and then pushing back inside, and she sighs.

  “Is this lovely?”

  “No, it’s fucking amazing,” she says. “It’s like you were made just for me.”

  “Because I was, sugar.”

  Chapter Twenty

  ~Mallory~

  Three Months Later

  “You should go on home,” I say to Shelly after she bags a customer’s purchase and reshelves some items that another customer decided to pass on. “It’s Christmas Eve. Go spend it with your family.”

  “Are you sure?” She frowns and glances about the shop. “It seems to be slowing down, but it could get busy again. People have a whole year to plan for Christmas, and yet it seems everyone waits for Christmas Eve so they can panic.”

  “Well, I won’t complain too much because it was a lucrative day.” I grin and reach for the envelope I already addressed to my assistant and pass it to her. “Merry Christmas.”

  She opens the envelope and looks up at me in shock. “This is too much.”

  “You deserve a bonus,” I reply and pull her in for a hug. I’m much less worried about being touched these days. Even though Grandmamma was right and my walls are permanently down now, I’m learning to cope with this new way of life.

  Part of me wishes I’d done it long ago. It’s much less stressful.

  “Thank you,” Shelly says. “I brought you a little something.”

  She disappears into the office, then returns with a small red gift bag.

  “Thank you.” I’m ridiculously touched by her gift, and I haven’t even opened it yet. I sincerely like Shelly, and I’m so happy that I have her on my team.

  “Open it,” she says with a grin.

  “Okay.” I toss out the gold tissue and find a beautiful sprig of mistletoe. “Oh, this is beautiful.”

  “I know it’s tradition at Christmas, but I’ve also learned that it’s for good luck, and a love talisman. I thought it would be perfect for your new home.”

  “It’s absolutely perfect,” I agree and hug her once more. “Thank you. I know just where we will hang it.”

  Shelly grins and reaches for her handbag. “You’re not staying late, are you?”

  “No, I’m going to close up in a minute. I’m ready to go home, too.”

  She nods and waves as she leaves. “Merry Christmas!”

  “Same to you!”

  I return the mistletoe to its bag, then set about the routine of closing up, counting the money drawer, closing out the credit cards, and taking out the trash.

  We are supposed to go to Beau’s mom’s house both this evening and tomorrow to celebrate with the family, and I’m nervous. It’s our first Christmas together. But they were kind enough to also invite Lena and Miss Sophia so we could all be together, and it made me fall in love with Beau and his family even more deeply.

  And I didn’t know that was possible.

  I lock the front door and turn around to find a bottle of lavender oil suspended in the air, and then it’s thrown and broken against the wall.

  “Miss Louisa!” I prop my hands on my hips in frustration. “You’ve been throwing a tantrum for a month now. What’s wrong?”

  She never shows herself to me, but she sure lets me know that she’s here. This isn’t the first time she’s thrown something, and she’s become famous for talking in my ear, startling the hell out of me.

  “If you want to tell me why you’re angry, just come talk to me. I’m right here.”

  I stand still, listening. Everything is silent again, but I can still feel her here.

  Suddenly, she walks out of my office, as if she works here and she’s coming out to help me with a customer.

  “Hello,” I say, watching her carefully. “You’re a beautiful woman. And a sad one.”

  She nods and looks around the shop, concern written all over her lovely face.

  “Have I done something wrong?”

  “I don’t know why you’re here,” she says, surprising me. Her voice is soft and feminine. She’s wearing a long blue dress with an apron, and her blonde hair is twisted up on the back of her head.

  “I own this shop,” I reply.

  “I’ve been trying to make you leave,” she says. “I don’t want a ghost in my place. And you keep moving things.”

  I step back, completely stunned. Does she not know that she’s dead? I’m tempted to shut her out and ignore her, the way I always did before three months ago when everything happened out at the inn.

  But I’m learning that ignoring something doesn’t change it. And Miss Louisa obviously needs me.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be in your way.”

  “I can’t bake my breads and sweets with you in the way.”

  “No, I imagine you can’t.” I blink and quickly try to decide how I’m going to handle this. “Miss Louisa, do you know what year this is?”

  “Why, it’s 1915, of course.”

  Holy shit.

  “I’m so sorry, Miss Louisa. I should have talked to you sooner, to try to help you.”

  “I don’t understand what’s happening,” she replies with tears in her eyes.

  “I know that now, and I can help you. Do you remember not being here? I mean, do you remember the last time you went home for the evening?”

  “No,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m just always here. Sometimes I go up in the attic, but there are strange people up there too.”

  “I don’t want you to be afraid. You’re not in danger. But I have to tell you that you’ve passed away, Miss Louisa. And you’re stuck here.”

  “No, that can’t be true. My husband will be here any minute to pick me up.”

  “He won’t be here,” I reply softly. “But I can help you move on so you can be with him.”

  “You can?” she asks, her whole face lit up with hope. “I miss him. I haven’t seen him in a very long time.”

  “That must be horrible,” I reply and take a deep breath, close my eyes, and feel a swirl of warm air. When I open my eyes, the light is behind her. “There you go. Just turn around.”

  She looks behind her and her face lights up in delight. “Teddy! He’s finally here for me. Oh, thank you!”

  And with that, she walks through the light, and then it’s gone, the same way it was with Grandmamma.

  There’s no lingering sense of her here. The store, and the upstairs loft, are completely quiet and, aside from me, empty.

  Merry Christmas.

  I walk back to gather my things and hurry home. It’s cooler today, although we certainly won’t be having a white Christmas. The city is bustling with people hurrying to spend time with their loved ones, so my drive home takes a little longer than usual, but I don’t mind.

  When I walk into our house, I’m welcomed with the warmth from the fireplace and the love of a very special man. The house is completely furnished now, and we are all moved in and unpacked. It seemed to take forever, but now it feels like we’ve always lived here. I can’t believe how perfect it is for us.

  “Merry Christmas, sugar,” Beau says as I walk into the kitchen and find him plating our dinner.

  “Merry Christmas,” I reply as I take my jacket off, hang it on a barstool, and take in the scene before me. “I thought we were going to your mom’s for dinner?”

  “Well, that was the plan, but I decided that I’d rather spend this evening by ourselves. Is that okay with you?”

  “Sure, but Lena—”

  “And Miss Sophia are still going to my mom’s,” he replies with a smile.

  “Well, then yes, this works for me.”

  He seems…nervous. Which is very unusual for my Beau. He’s the most self-assured man I know.

  “Are you okay?” I ask as he passes me a wine glass and I take a sip.

  “I’ve never been better,” he replies. “Can you grab my glass and I’ll take our plates to the table?”

  “Of course.” I follow him to the dining room, where he’s thrown a black tablecloth over our farm table, and added candles and forget-me-nots, along with some fine china that I’ve never seen before. “This is fancy.”

  “It’s Christmas,” he replies with a shrug. “And I wanted it to be pretty for you.”

  “You’ve succeeded,” I reply. “I feel quite spoiled.”

  “You’re not spoiled,” he says and tucks my hair behind my ear. “You should be indulged often.”

  “I won’t disagree,” I say with a laugh. “What did you make for us?”

  “Lasagna with bread and salad.”

  “That sounds amazing. I’m starving.” I set my napkin in my lap and take a bite of salad. “These tomatoes are fantastic. They’re from the garden, right?”

  “They are.”

  I smile and continue to munch away, not oblivious to his shifting in his seat, and eating little of his dinner. But if he wants to share what’s on his mind, he will do so in his own time. That’s something I’ve learned about Beau. He needs to stew over something for a bit, and then he will talk to me about it.

  So I just continue to enjoy our Christmas Eve meal and the beautiful table he set for us.

  “Business was good today. We were busy all day long. Shelly brought us a sprig of mistletoe for our house,” I say and take a sip of wine. “It’s for luck and love. I think I’ll hang it in the bedroom.”

  “That was nice of her,” he replies and then suddenly sets his glass down and takes my free hand in his.

  Here we go.

  “I was going to wait to do this until after dinner, but it seems this is one situation where my patience skills are non-existent.” He smiles and pushes his dinner away from him, and I do the same, eager to hear what he has to talk about.

  “What’s up?”

  “I know we haven’t known each other for long, Mallory. But I also know that I adore you. My only regret about us living together is that we didn’t do it sooner. I said once that you shifted everything else in my life out of focus, but now I realize that everything is clearer than it’s ever been.

  “You are an incredible woman. I love you so fiercely that it scares me at times. If I were to ever lose you, well…” He shakes his head as if the mere thought of it is mortifying. “I can’t even entertain the thought that I could ever lose you.

  “You make every day the best day of my life.”

  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gorgeous diamond solitaire.

  “Wow,” I murmur.

  “Marry me, Mallory. Let me love you, every day, for the rest of our lives and through whatever may come after we’re gone. Be my partner, my lover, and my best friend.”

  He reaches over to wipe a tear from my cheek. I can’t speak. I’m so surprised that all I can do is stare into his eyes.

  “What are you thinking, love?”

  “That I’m going to be really pissed off if this is a dream.”

  He smiles and kisses my cheek, then my lips, and pulls back so he can put the ring on my finger.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Oh my God, yes!” I jump into his arms and hug him tightly. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

  He kisses the crown of my head. “I don’t want a long engagement. It seems I’m not quite as patient as I thought I was.”

  I lean back to kiss him squarely on the mouth, and then admire the round diamond on my finger. “This is beautiful.”

  “It was my grandmother’s,” he replies and holds it up to the light. “It’s just under three karats, and you can have it reset any way you like.”

  “I love it just the way it is,” I say and kiss him again. “I can feel the love that was shared because of this ring. I don’t want to change a thing.”

  Epilogue

  ~Benjamin Preston~

  “Are you ready for this?” Eli asks Beau with a pat on the shoulder. We’re standing at the altar in Beau’s backyard, waiting for the girls to walk down the aisle. “You have time to back out.”

  “I’m not going to fucking back out,” Beau says with a roll of his eyes. “The engagement was long enough as it is.”

  “You were engaged for a month,” Declan reminds him. “And you’re lucky that it’s warm enough out here today to do this. You couldn’t wait until spring?”

  “No,” Beau says and sends his brothers a glare. “I couldn’t.”

  I just grin and stay silent, the way I usually do. I’m waiting for the girls to walk down the aisle as well, because I’ll get a glimpse of the woman I’ve been in love with for as long as I can remember.

  The music starts, and first comes Mallory’s best friend, Lena. She’s in her pink bridesmaid dress, smiling happily. She’s pretty enough, but she’s not my type.

  There’s only one woman that’s my type.

  And she’s looking directly at me right now.

  Savannah Boudreaux keeps her eyes on mine as she walks slowly in her pretty pink dress, holding a bouquet of flowers. I’ll never remember what she wore today, but I’ll never forget the way she looks.

  She’s beautiful.

  She’s so fucking smart and sweet as can be.

  And she will never be mine.

  Blush For Me

  A Fusion Novel

  By Kristen Proby

  Available Now!

  Chapter One

  ~Kat~

  “So, it was just a kiss,” Riley, my best friend, says from the driver’s seat next to me. “And it wasn’t a particularly good one at that.”

  “Dump him now,” I reply with a gusty breath, wringing my hands in my lap. “If he’s a shitty kisser, it only goes downhill from there. Trust me on this.”

  “But the conversation was good . . .”

  Sweet Jesus.

  “Seriously. If there’s no spark, move on. The spark is out there somewhere.”

  “You’re right.” She sighs and takes the exit off the freeway, following the signs to PDX. “How are you doing?” She glances at me and frowns. “You’re sweaty.”

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