Something Magical (Witches of Hawthorne Grove Book 1) Read online

  The thing had become a talisman for her—a good luck charm of sorts that kept bad things at bay—and she just seemed to feel better whenever she was holding it in her palm, like now. Shaking the fragile glass ball carefully, she held it up into the beam of sunlight and peered inside, watching the snow swirl and fall in mindless, untraceable patterns, filling the empty spaces between the trees and the grounds surrounding the beautiful old Victorian house inside while her thoughts played over the cheesily romantic evening she had spent with Jordan.

  A few kisses after their conversation about Daniel, Kaylee had helped Jordan put together one of the best baked nacho dishes she'd ever tasted. Jordan had started a fire, and they'd curled up on the sofa in front of the television and watched two of the three movies back to back before he'd asked the question of the evening: did she want to go home, or would she stay the night with him?

  Her first excuse was the one of no clothes, which Jordan had gotten around by offering one of his old t-shirts for her to sleep in. Kaylee reached down to pull the material close to her nose for another sniff—it smelled clean, of course, but there was still some lingering remnant of his scent within the fabric. It was dreamy. She'd had a hard time falling asleep last night for thinking about it, about him, and about how easy it would be to push back the covers and join him across the hall. All she had to do was say the word, and she could be in his bed—but she wasn't sure she was ready to take that final step.

  Like the glass surrounding the house inside the snow globe, her relationship with Jordan was much too fragile at the moment. At least she thought it was. It needed time to grow a little, to mature, to strengthen before they introduced sex into the equation. Especially now that Daniel was back in Hawthorne Grove.

  Kaylee rolled over, letting the snow globe slip out of her hands and onto the counterpane as easily as her thoughts slid into a whirlpool of what-ifs concerning her relationships past and present. Why had Daniel come back, really? She wondered if what Jordan had suggested was true—that he'd come back for her—and the thought that it might be made her angry. Did Daniel really think she would have sat around pining for his return for the past four years?

  Isn't that exactly what you did do? Her conscience snipped, and she scoffed at its brutal honesty. It was true, she had waited. But then, she'd pulled herself together and gotten a life, albeit an empty one. And then, Jordan had arrived and changed everything. He'd gotten her out again—out of her apartment and out of her head. Out of the shell she had built around herself to protect her heart.

  For one uncomfortable minute, she tried to imagine her life without Jordan's presence in it, and was surprised to realize just how empty it would seem. Had she really had such a gaping void in her world? How was it possible she hadn't known? A quick knock sounded about a half-second before the doorknob turned and Jordan came in bearing a tray laden with breakfast goodies that were still steaming, Sarge loping happily in by his side.

  “Good morning, sleeping beauty. I hope you're hungry. I made a little of everything I had. Blueberry waffles, buttered strawberry muffins, bacon, eggs scrambled or fried, and even a helping of grits and some hash browns.”

  Kaylee slid back against the pillows, feeling only slightly self conscious because she was half naked beneath the covers he was even now sliding the tray over on. It caught on a seam and he reached over her to tug at the quilt, giving it a quick flick before she could think to warn him. “Oh, wait!”

  But her cry came too late. The snow globe rolled over the edge of the bed and landed with a watery crash on the hardwood floor not two inches from the cushioned throw rug that might have saved it.

  “What the heck? Where did that come from?” he asked, but now oblivious to her borrowed nightwear and bare thighs, she was out of bed in a flash, standing with both hands over her mouth, her eyes burning with unreasonable tears as she stared down at a watery pool speckled with bits of white foam surrounding a house turned on it's side and two tiny, fake trees.

  Vision blurred, her gaze swept up to meet Jordan's while her mind replayed a memory of the day they'd met outside the antique shop and she recalled how every time she'd looked into the globe afterward she'd thought only of him. Looking back down at the house now lying oddly on its side in the shallow puddle at her feet, she thought it odd that the lights seemed to have had gone off and the house now looked empty and cold inside.

  Her eyes widened and snapped up as she cast a quick, anxious glance at Jordan, suddenly terrified the globe's destruction was some sort of terrible omen, warning her of bad things to come. Pushing the thought from her mind, she started forward to clean up the mess, but Jordan's hand shot out, holding her back.

  “Kaylee, stop. There's glass everywhere and you're bare-footed. Don't move. Or, better yet, get back into bed while I go get a broom or something.”

  Sarge nudged her, edging her toward the bed and she nodded, but he didn't quite leave fast enough. The tears blurring her vision and scalding her eyes which had shown up for reasons she didn't understand decided to multiply much too rapidly for her to hold them back. A sob wrenched itself from her throat, and Jordan stopped, his hand on the doorknob, to look back at her.

  “Kaylee, are you okay?”

  Once again, she shook her head, forcing her hands to move away from her mouth where they had hovered in horror until now, and pushed them down to her sides. “Yes, I'm fine. I—It's just a snow globe. It wasn't even special to me. I mean, I only bought it a few weeks ago, and so I haven't had it that long, really, and … I don't even know why I'm crying!”

  A frown drew his brows downward. “Is that the one you picked up at Seville's the day we met?”

  She couldn't trust herself to speak with the rush of tears now clogging her throat and making her nose want to run, so she just nodded her head again. Within seconds, he was back across the room, cuddling her close to his chest and all she could think of was how warm he felt while everything else around her seemed to have gone cold. He tilted her chin up with his thumb.

  “I'm sorry, Kaylee.”

  He leaned down, following his almost gruffly spoken words with a soft kiss of apology that, for reasons she had neither time nor inclination to try and understand, quickly turned into more.

  Chapter 17

  Jordan had been battling his crazy desire for Kaylee all morning, since way before he walked into his spare bedroom carrying a spur-of-the-moment breakfast tray and saw her lying there in a stream of early morning sunlight, looking all sleep-soft and sexy in his old t-shirt.

  He'd thought about her all night as he lay sleepless and aroused in his lonely bed, recalling just how close she actually was and how few steps he'd need to take to join her in the room next to his, but through sheer force of will, he had managed to keep his “no strings” promise and his distance.

  But when she leaned into his body, her face tilted eagerly into his kiss and her fingers twisted themselves deep into the thick strands of his hair, tugging his head down to hers for a much more thorough exploration of his lips and mouth, an all male primal instinct kicked in and he forgot all about the “no strings” promise he had made.

  His groan came up from somewhere in his chest, spilling into the suddenly electrified air around them in the form of a low growl, and it was all he could do to keep his movements slow and controlled as he pulled her closer, fitting her tighter against his body while his mouth feasted hungrily upon hers.

  In a gentle sweep, he pulled his palms down the length of her back to the sloping curve at the top of her hips. He would have stopped there—at least, that's what he told himself—if he hadn't felt the slight forward tilt of her lower body toward his, arching ever nearer the part of him that ached to be with her so badly the simple action dragged another deep-chested growl from his lips.

  Breaking away from her kiss was torture, but his mouth was determined to taste more of her: the shadowy curve of creamy skin just beneath her jaw, the tempting, slender column of her throat, the delicate flesh of her da
inty little earlobe, which he sucked between his lips for a quick nibble.

  Her gasp in reaction did crazy things to him, making him frenzied with need and he took two steps forward, pushing her toward the bed until her calves came up against the mattress and she could go no further. Taking both her hands in his, he turned with her so that he was against the bed and would have pulled her down with him onto it if he hadn't caught a glimpse of the breakfast tray still sitting on the bed from the corner of his eye.

  Squeezing his eyes tight in an attempt to will the image of the tray blocking their path to the bed away, he slid his arms around her again and tightened his fists into the material of his shirt at her waist. His lips nuzzled her neck until he found her earlobe again and he nibbled once, twice, and yet again before whispering, “Kaylee? Sweetheart, we have two choices. One, we stop before one or both of us tumbles into your breakfast or the shards of glass still lying on the floor, or I pick you up and carry you to my room where we will not stop until I have you completely naked and writhing beneath me in my bed.”

  Lifting his head again, he leaned back and opened his eyes to find hers staring, passion-warmed and limpid, into his and he cursed himself silently for not simply picking her up and taking her to his bed to have his way with her. But somehow he knew the choice of whether or not they made love this morning needed to be hers.

  He felt her grip loosen and then slide from his scalp down across his shoulders to rest against his chest. The passion he'd seen a moment before in her eyes cooled, even as she smoothed her fingers across the taut muscles beneath her hands. Her tone almost regretful, she said, “I want you. More than I've ever wanted anything or anyone, I think.”

  Jordan didn't have to ask. He could hear the hesitation in her tone. But he did anyway. “But?”

  Her lips twisted ruefully and she pushed slightly away from him. “But, I think we should wait.”

  Something pinched sharply in his gut—a feeling he recognized as a swift kick of regret—and he winced, even though he tilted his head in accepting acknowledgment of her decision. Then, he straightened, forcing away his disappointment, and after twining their fingers together again, he arched a brow in question. “Just for clarity's sake, do you mean we should wait, like, until after breakfast, or … ?”

  “We should wait until … until further notice, Jordan Parker,” Kaylee told him, her brow furrowed into a mock scowl which cleared immediately when she could no longer hold back her laughter at his teasing tone. His immediate and overly dramatic sigh of disappointment caused another quick burst of laughter to spill from her lips, which he caught with his own, but this time he managed to keep his hands still and steady and his kiss light and undemanding.

  Half an hour later, after he had cleared away the broken glass and other pieces from the snow globe and she had appeased her grumbling stomach with at least half of the yummy breakfast he'd brought to her upstairs, Kaylee hurried through Jordan's bedroom into the large, luxurious bathroom on the other side for a quick shower, her lips still tingling with pleasure from his kisses.

  The warm spray of water sluiced over her, reminding her with sultry images in clear, vivid detail just how hot she had burned beneath the heat of Jordan's touch. She hadn't meant to kiss him—not like she had, anyway. And she hadn't meant to crave the feel of his hands on her body, her fingers on his skin, but she had—oh, so much. There was no way she could honestly deny how badly she had wanted to give in: to him, to her desire to be with him, but when she'd looked into his eyes and realized he'd never actually said he loved her—that had made her hesitate and set off great big warning bells around her heart that pealed with the demand to proceed with calm and deliberate caution.

  Shutting off the shower, she grabbed a towel for her hair and wrapped another one around her middle before padding across the bedroom once again to call for Jordan through the door. “I'm out now. Won't take but a minute to dry and dress, so you can go ahead and start the truck if you want.”

  He'd left some of his old clothes on the foot of his bed for her since she'd left her apartment without her own and she hurried to slip into them now in case he decided he needed to open the bedroom door so she could clarify what he thought she'd said.

  Remembering how smoothly he'd turned what could have been a far too serious moment into one laced with humor and fun, her lips curled upward into a smile before she shook her head. With Jordan, the one thing she knew she could count on was his penchant for random moments of spontaneous humor—like when he pretended to have conversations with Sarge. His humor was just one of the many things she'd come to love about him. She only hoped her decision to stay out of his bed for now hadn't ruined her chances for discovering more.

  “What in the world are you wearing?” Jo asked the moment she slid into a seat beside her at Sam's. Her eyes did a quick skim of the thick charcoal gray turtleneck sweater and heather gray sweatpants she wore—both of which were obviously too big for her—and widened. “Forget I asked … is he as good in bed as he looks like he should be?”

  Kaylee sipped at her coffee, ignoring the blush suddenly heating her cheeks, and batted a hand at her sister in admonition.

  “What?” Jo demanded. “You're wearing his clothes already. It's just a matter of time before you'll be wearing his ring, too, if my intuition is on—and it usually is, Kaylee. Don't even try to deny it. But I'm guessing there's at least one more thing of his that doesn't belong in his closet or on your finger that you've tried on for size sometime within the past twenty-four hours. Am I right or am I right?”

  If she had allowed her blush at the thoughts her sister's comments brought to mind to answer for her, Kaylee could have gotten away without admitting she still hadn't slept with Jordan, but her conscience wouldn't let her.

  “No, you aren't, and do call Guinness because, for once, the great Jo Dean Leavy's notorious sixth sense has failed her. You lose, Sis. This time you missed your guess. But you're not too terribly far from the mark,” Kaylee's ridiculously brutal conscience forced her to add. “Have you been here long?”

  “Long enough to be forced to sit through reacquainting myself with Daniel Sutton. He was here when I came in and he saw me before I could duck back out the door. Apparently, his love dumped him, but not before he realized how terribly he had treated you when he left. He says he came back to make amends.”

  Kaylee looked at her hands. “Jordan said pretty much the same thing.”

  “He mentioned he ran into you and some guy at your apartment last night. I told him it was your husband. Also might have mentioned Jordan has a shotgun and enough money to pay off anyone who might hear the sound of it going off if he dared get close to you.”

  Kaylee's eyes flew wide and she stared at her sister in panic. “Jo! You didn't! Don't you know that could be construed as—”

  Jo rolled her eyes and waved a hand to indicate that she could calm down before she popped a vein or something, as she was fond of saying. “Of course I know, and of course I didn't. But that doesn't mean I didn't want to. The guy is pure scum and you know it.”

  “You never told me that four years ago.” It was the truth and they both knew it. Before Daniel had walked out of her life, everyone in Kaylee's family and circle of friends had thought him the cat's meow. Or, that was what they told her, anyway.

  “That was before he broke your heart and crushed your spirit. I never want to see that happen to you again, Kaylee. I won't let it happen. But I don't think I have anything to worry about. Not anymore,” she said, her gaze flicking toward Jordan an instant before she cocked her head in his direction. “Did he tell you he loves you?”

  Kaylee let her gaze linger on him longer than she should have. He glanced up at her and tilted his head up in acknowledgment of her stare. Looking quickly away, she shook her head.

  “Ah, that explains why you're here so early this morning and not still curled up with him in his bed. You told him you love him, though, right?”

  Kaylee plunked her cup dow
n hard on the table and narrowed her eyes. “Did I ask this many nosy, personal questions when you were dating Michael?”

  Jo shook her head no. “You asked more, Kaylee Dean, and I'm not letting you off the hook without an answer. Not that I need it after your attempt to sidestep the question. You didn't tell him, did you?”

  “No,” Kaylee blurted. “I didn't, Jo, and I'm not sure I am going to. Not yet, anyway. I really don't want to rush things. Not this time.”

  “Rush?” Jo snorted. “Kaylee, dear, when it comes to relationships, you're the bloody, ever-lovin' tortoise, not the finish line dragging, to the point and back again before you can catch your breath hare.”

  “Yes, well, apparently I'm not slow enough. You saw how things turned out last time. If I had waited a few weeks more—” What? She wondered. Would she have refused Daniel's proposal? Would she have discovered his affections had moved on in time to save herself the pain and embarrassment of a broken engagement?

  “Hey, don't look like that, Kaylee-bean.” Jo's hand slid over to cover her own and gave it a little squeeze. “I love you and you know it. Maybe I'm being a little pushy where Jordan is concerned but you're my little sister and it's been a long time since I saw you this happy. I'd hate for you to let this new happiness I see slip away because you're too afraid to take that leap again, you know?”

  Kaylee did know. She'd worried about the exact same thing less than an hour ago in Jordan's shower. But if she were going to mess things up between herself and Jordan, wasn't now the perfect time to do it—before her entire world became involved, the way it had with Daniel? She had a feeling she'd left things too late for that already but she couldn't bring herself to admit as much to her sister.

  “I know you care, Jo, but I really need to take this slowly. If Jordan and I are meant to be, we will, but it has to happen when we are ready—not you, or Daniel, or anyone else who thinks we need to jump in with both feet before the spark disappears. If it's real, it won't. You know this. Look at you and Michael.”