Something Magical (Witches of Hawthorne Grove Book 1) (12 page)

“Come home with me, Kaylee. Come out to my place, have dinner, and watch a movie or two. I'll cook. You can sleep in the spare bedroom, if you decide to stay the night, and you should because it'll probably be late when the show is over, but no strings, remember?”

“No strings. Right.”

“Not a one—until you're ready. Then, I will be more than happy to tie you into so many knots you'll never find your way free of me, Miss Kaylee-who-lies-badly-about-not-being-jealous-Dean.”

Kaylee chuckled. “Fine, fine. I'll come with. Just let me grab a few things, okay?”

She started to turn away, but he grabbed her hands, forcing her to look up at him again.

“Thank you, Kaylee. And for the record, if a guy had showed up at your place, I would be jealous, too.”

She was speechless. Was this Jordan's way of telling her he cared about her? Maybe even that he loved her? She didn't know what to say—and then, she didn't have to because someone was knocking at her front door.

“Don't go away. I need to analyze that,” she said before hurrying to answer the door. She pulled it open, half expecting Jo to be outside, waiting to tell her “I told you so” but it was not her sister who waited outside her door.

“Hello, Kaylee.”

Four years of badness hit her in the gut like a sucker punch from nowhere. “Daniel. What are you doing here?”

O
f all the
“he'll be back” scenarios Kaylee had gone through during the four years since Daniel had left Hawthorne Grove, this was the only one that didn't fit. Shocked and confused by his sudden, unexpected reappearance, she stared at him in silence while her mind raced to make quick sense of the moment.

It failed, leaving her momentarily at a loss.

From beneath the bright glare of the pair of outdoor lights illuminating her front stoop, Daniel Sutton, one of her best friends through high-school and the one-time love of her life stared back, and she realized, almost as an afterthought, that she felt strangely unaffected by his presence.

The realization threw her. Wasn't she supposed to be reeling with remembered pain? Or, at the very least, filled with fury and righteous indignation over how and why he had left her? Kaylee raised her hands to her temples in an attempt to stop the whir of thought spinning in her head. She knew she should say something, but the only words that came to mind was the question she had already asked. “What are you doing here?”

With the same hint of a smile lurking just below the surface of an actual reaction ghosting his lips—the kind of smile-not smile she remembered that was as much a part of him as his sun-bleached blond hair, Daniel winked playfully and said, “Looking up old friends.
Special
friends.”

The husky intonation he had given the word
special
made Kaylee's gut twist. Special? She wondered if by that he meant
sucker
, as in the kind of woman who fell for the same jerk twice—and got burned both times—because if that was his definition of special, well, special she definitely was not.

He continued to stand in her doorway, his eyes hungrily roaming over her body as if he were a starving man and she was his next meal. Four years ago, a look like that might have made her feel wanted, but right now it was creating another kind of feeling—one that left a bad taste in her mouth.

“It's been a long time, right?”

“Four years,” Kaylee said, and he nodded his head while his gaze continued to roam over her, from her hair to her toes and back again.

“You're looking beautiful, as always. You do something to your hair?” He reached toward her to flick his fingers at a loose lock and Kaylee pulled back, but he didn't seem to notice. Instead, he grinned and nodded. “I like it. I like it a lot.”

Kaylee said nothing. In fact, she was silent for so long, he finally leaned sideways to peer around her into her sanctuary. “So, can I come in? I feel kind of silly standing out here in the cold.”

Kaylee opened her mouth to say all those things she had rehearsed in her mind over the past four years but another deeper, harder voice came from behind, cutting off her words. “We were just on our way out.”

Jordan had quietly moved up behind her and when his voice suddenly filled the space of awkward silence, Kaylee almost jumped out of her skin. She hadn't forgotten he was there, exactly. She just hadn't expected him to say anything. But now that he had—and since his hands were now resting solidly at her waist, as if he had stepped up solely to lend her his strength, to keep her upright and steady in this strange moment of emotional paralysis—she melted backward into the safe haven of comfort that was his embrace.

The quick flare of surprise in Daniel's eyes was almost enough to make up for the pain of his leaving four years ago. Tilting her head slightly to stare up at Jordan, she said, “Yes, we were.” Glancing back toward her unexpected and unwanted guest who continued to hover in her doorway, she said, “I'm sorry, Daniel. Maybe some other time?”

“Of course,” he muttered, but still made no move to go. “Maybe tomorrow after lunch, huh? Coffee at Huntingdon's? I'll even pick you up at the shelter.”

“Tomorrow's Saturday,” Jordan interrupted. He lifted one hand to her shoulder, letting his thumb caress the sensitive skin below her ear. She stopped herself just short of cuddling into his caress and purring like a cat. What was he doing, petting her like this? And in front of Daniel, too!

“Kaylee doesn't work Saturdays,” he said it like a reminder, his tone inferring her schedule was something Kaylee's
special friends
would have known. “But she won't be free for coffee regardless, I'm afraid. Kaylee and I have prior plans—for the entire weekend and pretty much most of the foreseeable future.”

Most of the foreseeable future
? She glanced back at Jordan, wondering what he was playing at.

He reached over from behind her to collect Kaylee's purse from the table beside the door and then her coat, which he held for her while she slid her arms inside.

Kaylee could see Daniel's irritation with Jordan's presence and solicitous actions rising, but for the moment she kept quiet, happy to let Jordan continue to handle the conversation while she buttoned up the buttons on her swing coat and slid on her gloves.

“I see. And who are you, exactly? I don't remember seeing you around here before.”

She had just found the words to tell Daniel in no uncertain terms that he'd have to leave when Jordan put his hand at the small of her back and his lips at her temple, giving her a quick kiss there before following up with gentle little push toward the door. “You go on ahead, sweetheart. I'll get the lights and lock up.”

Her brows rose at his pretended familiarity but there was a warning light in his eyes she found she could not ignore. Nodding her agreement, she slid past Daniel and started for the stairs. She had only gone a few steps past the door when she heard Jordan say, “Sorry for the lack of introduction, old man, but Kaylee has a way of making me forget everyone but her.”

There was a pause, during which Kaylee imagined Jordan extending his hand. Did Daniel take it? She wondered. Then Jordan said, “Maybe I'd be easier to recognize if you were looking at the cover of
Forbes
? The name's Parker. Jordan Parker. IT billionaire? CTS Enterprises? Former CEO...recently retired, of course,” she heard him add the last with a pretense of humility touching his tone. “I moved to Hawthorne Grove about six months ago. And you are?”

Kaylee didn't have to guess what would happen when Daniel realized Jordan really was who he said he was. She could almost imagine the stupefied look on his face when he connected the dots of her past with why she hadn't welcomed him home with open arms and the kiss he obviously wanted.
He'd left her and she landed a billionaire
.

She almost laughed out loud at the thought of it, and probably would have, if she hadn't been so surprised by Jordan's macho attempt to use the male version of an
I'm-better-than-you
card when he introduced himself. If they hadn't just had the conversation about Jordan's ex, she would have thought his behavior signified jealousy. Now, she was suspicious, wondering if he was pretending for her benefit because he thought she was jealous of Stacy Blaut and wanted to return the favor.

A throat was cleared, and she heard Daniel mumble a quick introduction. “Sutton. Daniel Sutton.”

The lights in her apartment went out. Kaylee heard the door close and the shuffle of footsteps moving toward her before Jordan, clearly unimpressed, came back with, “Nice. Well, I'm sure we'll see you around.”

Having caught up to Kaylee, Jordan leaned down and pressed a quick kiss onto her lips before taking her hand in his to tug her in the opposite direction from her ex. He didn't bother to further acknowledge Daniel when they passed him on the sidewalk, but he did watch through narrowed lids over the top of Kaylee's head until he saw the taillights of Daniel's car disappearing around the corner. There was a fierce look in his eyes when he murmured quietly under his breath, “Thanks for stopping by—douche bag.”

* * *

F
rom the outside
, Hawthorne Grove's public library looked completely disenchanting.

But for a dim glow emanating from the few solar powered lamps strategically placed to light the front walk and the stone steps to the entry, the building was quiet and dark; empty—as any public structure after hours should be. Inside, however, was another story. Lit by an energy only those possessed with a working knowledge of magic could detect, Hawthorne Grove's large public library's interior glowed softly with a warm incandescence, and the low hum of quiet male voices belied the vacant appearance of the building from the outside.

Chin high and shoulders straight, Esmerelda Seville made her way between a long corridor of books toward an alcove set into the stone wall at the end. A thick wooden door, banded with heavy wrought iron bands gone black over the passing of several hundred centuries, appeared in the center just as she drew up before it.

“
Aisimentum.
” She quickly whispered the old Latin word she had heard Alastair use previously when requesting liberty of passage and the heavy door swung inward, allowing her entry into a cavernous round room that appeared to be the central chamber of what was once an old abbey or cathedral. Circling the chamber was a chain of similar wood and iron-banded doors that lead one through lengthy corridors to various secret vaults and anterooms where she now knew the many precious volumes of Hawthorne Grove's magical history and lore—both the immediate, and that of ancient times—was kept.

Alastair Skurlock, one of the chosen and most recent Keepers of the Lore, was in one of those chambers—enchanted and be-spelled rooms that strong magic kept hidden from the day-to-day patrons of the library. She needed only to find the right one—but there were so many! She sighed. Why couldn't he simply have met her at the door, like a proper date?

Because Seville's weren't allowed to have proper dates, she reminded herself. But this wasn't a date, exactly. She needed something only Alastair could give her, and tonight was the only night she had—the only night she
would have
for a very long time—to throw caution to the wind and tempt the hands of Fate to get it. Carefully counting her footsteps as she went, Esmerelda managed to make it seventy two full paces and one half-step forward before a door opened to her left.

Alastair walked out, his brow pulled into a frown, and closed the door behind him. Had he sensed her presence? Of course he had. Breaching the sanctuary would have been a dead giveaway if he hadn't known she was here from the moment she stepped foot on Keeper's soil.

He spotted her almost immediately and hurried to her side, a ferocious looking scowl replacing the frown on his face. “Esmerelda? Dammit, you have to go back!” he growled. “You know you can't be in here.”

She did know, but at the moment, she did not care. Nor did she particularly like the way he was glaring at her. “Serephina and Mortianna are gone. They flew out this morning to spend the weekend in New York City. I just thought you might like to know. I'll be alone.”

Any minute now, she knew he would do what he must and signal the guards to take her away if they weren't already on high alert and headed her way. It was his job, his duty as Keeper of the Lore to maintain the sanctity of the sanctuary and she knew she only had a matter of seconds to say what she had come to say. But now that she was here, staring into those piercing gray eyes of his, she was suddenly quite uncertain of the sanity of her goal.

“Esmerelda—” His eyes closed for a second and when he opened them again, something feral flickered in his gaze. She heard a noise. The guards. They had been alerted and her time was running out. She could hear their footsteps, heading in her direction and picking up speed and she didn't stick around to see the rest of his reaction. Instead, she turned, sucked in a breath, took a step and started counting.

“Seventy-one, seventy, sixty-nine—” Before she reached the count of fifty, she was in a full-out run, headed back toward the door she'd come in through, trying to make it out before the guards arrived—and she could hear Alastair keeping time with her paces just three steps behind—in case she didn't quite make it.