Something Magical (Witches of Hawthorne Grove Book 1) (4 page)

Jo Dean Leavy was a regular. In the four years during which the cafe had been in operation, she hadn't once missed a morning of stopping in for what she called her “emergency wake up call.” But tonight, she was sitting at a ruby cloth-draped table, sipping a mocha crème latte for a different reason.

“Are you sure this whole lack of sleep thing is about Daniel? I mean, come on, Kaylee. It's been two years. You're concerned he's making you lose sleep again, but I know you. You're not the type to let a guy make you tuck tail and run—or hide,” she told her sister. “Besides, dreaming about him doesn't necessarily mean you're thinking about or worrying about
him
in particular. Maybe your dreams are trying to tell you it's time you moved on. Time you let yourself find a man, and get into a relationship again. Have some fun for a change!”

She sat her cup on the table, leaned back in her chair, and looked her sister straight in the eye. Then, her eyes narrowed. “Oh, my God. That's it, isn't it? There's a
guy
! You've met someone who makes you think about getting serious again, and … Kaylee Dean, you've been holding out on me, haven't you?”

Lifting the steaming cup to her lips, Kaylee almost felt guilty.

“There's no guy,” she said, but she could feel the heat of a blush stealing its way up her neck to her cheeks. “I mean, there was a guy. I ran into him. Or, rather, he ran into me. But that's not important. It's just—coincidence.”

Her sister was still peering at her through narrowed eyelids. “What coincidence?”

Kaylee shrugged. “Remember last weekend when I promised Mindy I'd go to the antique place for her?”

Jo nodded. “The snow globe place? Yeah, you told me about it. Or I thought you had, but obviously you left out all the important bits.”

There was a not-so-subtle hint of accusation in her tone that made Kaylee want to wince.

“No, I didn't. Having a guy in a dark gray bomber jacket almost run me over on the sidewalk was nothing. It was—” she shrugged. “It was just one of those things. But then he showed up at the shelter, and—”

“And you freaked,” her sister filled in for her.

“I did
not
freak.” Feeling defensive now, Kaylee broke eye contact and squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.

“I just … turned him down. For coffee. Which
we
are having now,” she said, lifting her cup once more.

Jo's eyebrows shot upward. “He asked you out? Wait a minute.”

Leaning forward, she took Kaylee's cup from her and sat it aside before taking both her sister's hands in her own. “Let me make sure I get this straight. A guy almost knocks you off your feet at the antique shop, then he shows up at the shelter and asks you out. And you said no.”

Kaylee nodded, but her sister clearly did not understand.

“Why? Was he butt-ugly or something?”

“No.” Kaylee felt her nose crinkle, adding strength to her denial, and dropped back in her chair with a sigh. “He was actually quite handsome, especially after … ”

Realizing that she was about to reveal she had noticed a lot more about the guy than she cared to admit, Kaylee broke off with a shrug. “He looked decent enough, Jo. But he has nothing to do with my having gotten a total of four hours sleep every night since the day we ran into each other at Seville's.”

“But what if he does?” Jo suggested, giving her fingers a little squeeze of encouragement. “What if you met this guy and your subconscious realized you liked him? What if, deep down, you wondered if it was okay to have a man in your life again, okay to trust a man again, and your dreams are just an extension of that, hmm?”

“What if it remembered what happened last time and dredged up scenarios from my past to present to me in my sleep as a warning against it?” Kaylee offered wryly, pulling her fingers out of her sister's grasp.

Jo's head dropped back and she closed her eyes. When she raised her head again, it was to glare in annoyance at her sister. “You're impossible sometimes, you know?”

“Mmm,” Kaylee mumbled in agreement around her last swallow of coffee. “And sleepy. I think it's time I headed home. Thanks for the latte, Jo, and the chat. Next time, I'll buy.”

Jo fumbled in her purse for her credit card. “And maybe next time you'll listen to what I'm trying to tell you.”

The bells over the coffee shop door rang out, drawing their attention as well as the owners, who was busily wiping down the bar counter with a damp cloth. “Hey, man! You made it!”

He walked around the bar and met the new customer half- way. The two embraced for a second, one of those back-slapping, guy things, and then the newcomer said, “Sammy! It's good to see you again. How's business?”

Kaylee felt a tingle of awareness at the sound of his voice, but she had known it was him the moment he stepped inside the cafe. Hoping to avoid notice, she dropped her eyes and tucked her chin. “See you tomorrow, Jo.”

Half an hour later, still restless although she felt so tired she could barely hold her head up, Kaylee tied her bath robe and padded barefoot through the living room of her one bedroom apartment, making a bee-line for the snow globe. She still didn't know why she felt so drawn to the thing, but looking at it made her feel at ease somehow. Less troubled and less … alone. Everything seemed so perfect inside. So peaceful and serene and … .

Looking into the glass, she couldn't help but think the people in
that
house loved each other. Real love. The kind of love that didn't go away, ever, no matter what. The man inside would never walk out on his woman a month before their wedding, leaving her scarred and afraid to risk her heart again no matter how tempting it may be to do so.

Lifting the ball, she peered in at the beautiful abundance of thick, glistening snow covering the fence, the yard, the trees, the house, and Jo's words at the coffee shop came back to her. Was she finally getting over the pain of being jilted two years ago? Was she truly ready to start over, to try again for love?

Frowning now, she closed her eyes and shook the ball, thinking if her subconscious were really as smart as Jo seemed to think it was, it could have produced a much better sign or clue than torturing her from sleep with dreams of Daniel every night.

Give me a sign
. The thought whispered unconsciously through her thoughts in the brief instant before she opened her eyes and looked down at the ball again. The snow, which moments before had blanketed every surface inside was in the air, was trickling slowly downward. But what caught her eye was the dog resting on his haunches on the path leading from the stoop outside the front door.

It looked a lot like Sarge, she thought. Definitely a golden retriever, but—how had she missed it before? Tilting the ball this way and that, she watched as artificial snow slowly covered the ground and walkway again, piling up over and around the dog while her thoughts drifted to a pair of fascinating gray eyes.

Setting the glass ball carefully back into its stand, she clicked off the lamp and headed into the bedroom. Slipping off her robe, she got into bed and pulled the quilt up to her chin. Staring unseeing through the darkness at the ceiling, she wondered if maybe Jo was right. Perhaps it
was
time she stopped letting what happened to her in the past keep her from enjoying the present.

K
aylee woke
the next morning feeling rested and strangely exhilarated. For the first time in a week, her sleep hadn't been interrupted by disturbing dreams of her ex-fiance; she'd actually slept the entire night through!

Still groggy, she stretched and turned to peer sleepily at her clock, wondering how long she had to laze in bed before her alarm went off. 8:00. Eight? No, that couldn't be right. She'd scheduled today's first grooming appointment for eight! Kaylee blinked once, then jolted into action. Springing up, she flung off the covers and grabbed her cell phone, quickly flipping through a few screens before punching the green call button with her thumb.

Her 8:00 a.m. appointment answered on the second ring. “Mrs. O'Reilly? Yes, it's Kaylee. I'm running a little late this morning, but I'm on my way. Can you give me fifteen minutes, or do we need to reschedule?”

“Fifteen minutes is fine,” Mrs. O'Reilly said. “Is there anything wrong, dear?”

After assuring Mrs. O nothing was wrong and embarrassingly admitting she'd just overslept—something quite unusual for her—Kaylee ended the call, rushed to the closet to gather a handful of clothes, and then locked herself in the bathroom for the quickest shower by a female, ever, and that rush seemed to set the tone of her day.

After her shower, she'd grabbed a banana and a granola bar from the kitchen and ate them both while getting dressed, and although she'd shamefully bent a few speeding laws in order to pull it off, somehow managed to make it to her shop, Kaylee's Pet Care and Grooming, with three minutes to spare before the fifteen she'd promised Mrs. O ran out.

Breathless from having run across half a parking lot and then up a flight of stairs, Kaylee used the time it took her to unlock and get inside her normal place of business to apologize again to Mrs. O for being late, and although Mrs. O'Reilly assured her it was no problem, Kaylee still only charged her half price for Mitzi's grooming to make up for her inexcusable tardiness.

The door had barely closed behind them when the phone rang. An emergency pet-icure, which she agreed to do in half an hour if they could make it in that short a time, then there were two walk-ins, plus her three regular Monday clients, and a bad delivery she'd had to send back to the supplier because half her order was missing and the other half was wrong—and it seemed like everyone in the county decided to call in after that to book a grooming for their pets. But when Marc called from the shelter at a little after two, Kaylee was still surprised to realize so much of the day was already gone.

“You okay? It's a quarter after two.”

Kaylee waved goodbye to her last client for the day and sat down in her chair behind her desk. With a swoop of her hand, she pushed a bit of hair that had come loose from her hastily banded pony-tail out of her eyes and blew out a slow breath. “I'm sorry, Marc. Today has been a special kind of crazy.”

“Yeah? Well, you can tell me about it when you get here. Daina had to leave early and Ren never showed, so step on it, lady. I need all the help I can get over here and you're already late.”

And so, for the second time that day, Kaylee grabbed her purse and her keys, locked the door, and rushed to her car to hurry to an appointment at which she should already have arrived.

By five thirty, she was more than ready for a break … a long one.

“Whew. It's been hectic today,” Marc said. He brought a folder to the table and dropped it in front of her. “Almost closing time, and I have to admit, I am definitely looking forward to it.”

Kaylee flipped open the folder. “What's this?”

“Mr. Parker's paperwork. Everything's in order. He can pick up the retriever whenever he's ready.” He walked away from the table, stopping at the door to collect his jacket. “I was hoping you'd call him before you leave. I've got a date I'd hate to be late for. It's a first, and you know how picky you ladies are about things like that.”

He didn't wait for her answer. Instead, he shrugged on his jacket and, smiling back at her over his shoulder as he stepped through the door, waved a jaunty goodbye. “See you tomorrow, Kaylee Bean!”

Only he wouldn't, Kaylee thought a bit grumpily, because she wouldn't be there. She volunteered at the shelter three days a week—something he had forgotten in his rush to meet his latest
first
date—and Tuesdays weren't one of those three days.

In front of her, the paperwork for Sarge's adoption taunted and she closed the folder. Did she really want to put herself through seeing Jordan Parker again? She'd been so busy today she hadn't thought of him even once. But now, she clearly remembered the last time she'd seen him, she'd lost a week of sleep—and he'd only asked her out to coffee!

Then again, she hadn't thought of Daniel either, and that realization was shocking because she knew she had angsted at least once every single day of the past two years over his unexpected defection. The shock of Daniel's calling off their wedding had quite nearly paralyzed her. The mere thought of putting herself in a similar position for pain again almost made her physically ill.

But there was something about Jordan Parker, something in his eyes that called to her. Something in the way he'd looked at her—half confident, half mortified—that made her think she might be okay with him. Long enough to have coffee, anyway.

Call him
, some mischievous voice inside her head whispered, daring her to relax, challenging her to at least give him a chance, urging her to step out of the cocoon she had built around her heart or at least make an opening through which some brave soul might find his way in, and Kaylee snorted at the melodrama she'd allowed to go on in her thoughts.

Why was she so nervous about calling him, anyway? It wasn't as if she were calling a guy she was interested in seeing, right? She was only notifying a patron of the shelter that their pet adoption had gone through. So why was her brain making her body feel like she was calling in anticipation of a night in the arms of a devoted lover?

Smoothing her damp palms along her jeans-clad thighs in a misguided attempt to soothe away her sudden attack of nerves, she reached for the phone, flipped to the last page in the folder, found his number, and dialed. He answered on the third ring.

Exhaling slowly, she forced herself to speak calmly although she felt anything but. “Mr. Parker? Hi. It's Kaylee Dean from the animal rescue shelter. I'm calling to let you know the paperwork for your pet adoption went through. You can come by and pick up Sarge whenever you're ready.”

Did he hear the slight quiver in her voice? The way her breath caught and hung on every other word? If so, he didn't let on about it.

“Miss Dean, hello! I was hoping you'd call,” he said, and Kaylee shivered with reaction to the warmth which started at her ear and spread outward from the sound. “What time do you close?”

Trying to take her mind off the effect of his voice, Kaylee flipped back through the papers in the folder until her eyes met the space where he had signed his name.

Jordan H. Parker
.

Scrawled in black ink in a broad empty box on the white paper, his name stood out in stark relief. It was penned evenly, but somehow still managed to swoop across the page—all flowing and loopy—which was a little unusual for a man's signature. It was intriguing, she thought. Like his eyes. Idly, she wondered what the H stood for, and then realized he was waiting for her reply. She closed the folder. “In about fifteen minutes.”

She heard him sigh. “That's not so good. I'm in Center, just outside of town. Not close enough to make it before you lock up. I really wanted to bring Sarge home as soon as possible and I hate to ask, but will tomorrow be okay?”

Disappointment flowed through her. Kaylee hadn't realized how much she'd actually been anticipating seeing him again. She bit back a sigh. “Yes, of course. Tomorrow will be fine.”

Only she wouldn't be there tomorrow. Marc would, and … .

Her attention back on the conversation at hand, Kaylee immediately recognized the standard, cordial “thanks for calling” he was giving her now, and that he was getting ready to end the call. Before he could finish and say goodbye, she interrupted him. “Jordan? Um, I mean Mr. Parker?”

“Yes, Miss Dean?” he asked after a slight pause, and she knew she hadn't imagined the slight teasing edge that entered his tone at her having accidentally called him by his first name.

A blush burned her cheeks, but she ignored it. “I'm at the shelter now, but I could meet you at Huntingdon's in half an hour if you'd like. We could do the exchange there.”

There was a moment of hesitant silence, then he asked, “Are you sure? It wouldn't be a bother?”

“No bother at all.” Certain now that he was going to agree to meet her, she stood and walked to the rack of keys, and selected the one to Sarge's kennel. “I'm sure Sarge is eager to get settled in his new home, and the two of you do seem to have an awful lot to talk about.”

Kaylee suddenly wanted to smack herself. The last thing she'd wanted to remind him of was the conversation where he'd asked her out! He'd think she was fishing for another invitation to coffee!

If one could feel a grin of triumph through a simple phone conversation, Kaylee would have sworn she'd felt his when he asked, “Does this mean you'll have coffee with me?”

But she was too busy scolding herself to catch the note of uncertainty hidden in his question. “It means I'll think about it. See you in half an hour, Mr. Parker.”

She ended the call, scooped up the folder, her purse, and pulled on her coat. She'd put everything else in the car first, and then collect Sarge for the ride. It was cold out this evening, and there was no need to make him suffer in it while she got her stuff together.

What a laugh, she thought. If she had her stuff anywhere near together, her hands would not be trembling with uncertainty and her insides would not be quivering, practically giddy with excitement at the thought of seeing Jordan again. Glaring at the dark side of her now closed eyelids, she groaned. Why had she even made the blasted call?

* * *

“
B
ecause you want him
, chicky,” Mortianna said to the vision swirling in front of her before it faded into an inky mist. Turning to Esmerelda, she asked, “Why are these women so scared to admit to their passions?”

“Why are you sneaking down here to eavesdrop on them?” she shot back from the basement doorway. “If Feeny finds out, she's going to kick you out of the coven.”

Mortianna stretched and waved away her sister's concern. “She'd have to kick me out of the family first, and we both know she won't do that. She loves me too much. Besides, one of us has to keep an eye on these things. It might as well be me.”

“Or you could leave it alone and let their hearts do the work,” Serephina offered from behind Esmerelda's shoulder, causing both her sisters to jump guiltily at the sound of her voice.

“Hearts, schmarts. Look what Kaylee's did to her. She let one little episode of broken heartedness shut her down for two years. Two blasted,
wasted
years, Feeny. When are you going to realize that sometimes these romantic entanglements need a little nudging now and again?”

Serephina pushed around Esmerelda and continued down the stairs. “Probably as long as it takes for you to realize a romantic entanglement is not love.
Love
is the prize here, Morty, and it's something that grows out of feelings rooted a lot deeper than a box of chocolates, a dozen roses, and a few hours tussling around on a set of five hundred dollar silk sheets.”

“Oooh, is that how much he paid for those?” Morty asked, skirting the issue entirely to dig out the bedding catalog she'd brought down the day after Kaylee and Jordan had made their separate visits to the store while Esmerelda quietly descended the stairs to put away the scrying dish. “I want a set in red, a set in black, and a set in—”

“Your dreams,” Serephina finished for her before sweeping the catalog out of her reach. Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, “You're not getting outrageously overpriced silk sheets because you never want to pay for them, and I don't want you spying on Kaylee anymore, okay? If we need to get involved, they will let us know.”

Mortianna rolled her eyes.
They
were the modern-day equivalent of a Cupid Heart Guard when clearly what was needed here was the Chief, the big boss, the Love CEO—the top guy himself—not some namby-pamby, seven-man hearts and flowers romance army who thought a couple of magic-infused gifts were an adequate substitute for real passion. Real feeling. Real emotion.

“Fine, fine. I'll stop spying on her.
And
him. I won't peek in on the sexy Mr. Parker, either. I promise.” She held out both hands, palm up, in a sign of surrender.

Serephina eyed her suspiciously for a moment, searching for any hint of duplicity. Finding none, she nodded. “Thank you, I think. Now come upstairs and help me with dinner, both of you. I don't want either of you down here without me tonight. You tend to get into trouble when you slip off out of my sight.”

“Yes, Mother,” Mortianna mocked, and Esmerelda hid a smirk, but both sisters trouped to the stairs, following Serephina up as they were told.