A Stroke Of Magic (23 page)

I shoved the piles away. “Okay, I’m done, but I only have two who are similar enough to even think about.”

Chloe tipped her head up, smiled at me, and returned to the few files she had remaining. I watched her, thought about the picture I had of her in my bedroom, and so wanted to get it. Of course I didn’t, because it wasn’t the right time. I left it alone.

When all was said and done, there were only four men out of the sixty-plus I even had to be concerned with. One of them was Aaron, the auburn-haired man I’d met the day I’d walked in on Grandma. I didn’t recognize the other three, and I didn’t bother going through the Maybe stacks. If I had to later, they’d be there.

“Now, pass me all the Nos so I can deal with them.” Grandma Verda winked. “Maybe there’s a man for Chloe there.”

A light pink blush tinged my friend’s cheeks. “That’s not necessary, Verda. I’m sort of dating someone right now.”

“That’s okay, dear. You’ll have these to look over later, if it doesn’t work out.”

“Um…Grandma? What are you talking about?” I glanced at Chloe again, and almost laughed at her expression. Hey, she wanted to be a part of a large family, and in
my
family Grandma Verda’s manipulations were part of the package.

A twinkle sparkled in Grandma’s blue eyes. “I went to a lot of trouble putting all of these together. It would be nice if someone could use them.” She shrugged. “Besides, there’s so much information about these men! You’ll see their pictures, their medical histories, their résumés, and even how well they did on the IQ tests! What could be better?”

Good grief, the woman should open her own matchmaking service.

Surprisingly, Chloe didn’t argue further. I didn’t know if that was because she knew arguing with Grandma Verda was pointless, or if the idea intrigued her.

In minutes, Grandma was flipping through the files at breakneck pace, separating them into four distinct piles. Curiosity flared, and while I shouldn’t have asked, I couldn’t help myself. “Grandma? How are you separating those?”

She laid a hand on the pile farthest to her left. “This is the lemon stack. I wouldn’t recommend dating these fellows based on what I see here.”

Oh my God. It was her
fruit
thing.

She moved her hand to the next pile. “And these are the pears. Not horrible, but not all that good, either. Consider them just below average. But maybe with some work, they could move up the ranks a bit.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

On the third pile, she grinned. “These are the oranges. They can go either way. They’re usually above average to begin with, but you need to watch them carefully, because they can slip in the other direction. Elizabeth knows all about oranges. Marc was an orange when they married, but ended up being a lemon.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose but stayed quiet.

Grandma Verda’s smiled broadened, and the twinkle in her eyes brightened even more. “And these are the pomegranates. Well, I don’t know for sure, so maybe it’s better to say they have pomegranate possibilities. I’d have to spend more time with them to be absolutely sure.”

“Pomegranate possibilities? I’m probably going to be really sorry for asking this, but how did this fruit thing get started? And how’d you decide that pomegranates were the top-shelf men? What about watermelons? Or Asian pears? Or even strawberries?” I pursed my lips, still fighting off laughter.

“Watermelons? Don’t be ridiculous.” She rubber-banded the Pomegranate pile and set it aside. “It’s simple. Years ago, when I started dating again, after your grandfather died, I wanted a quick way to classify the men I met. Lemons were easy, if a tad cliché, so it started with that, and because lemons are fruit, I just took it one step further. Pomegranates are my favorite, so those are the best. The rest I just ranked accordingly.”

My sister laughed. “That’s it? That’s all it is? So your pomegranate would be a pineapple for me, because those are my favorite fruit?”

“Well, no, dear. It’s too late for that. The fruit ranking system is my idea and already in place, so you have to use the fruit I established. Otherwise it would just get too confusing.” She snapped a rubber band around the orange pile. “Take these two stacks home with you, Chloe. Even if you don’t need them, maybe a single girlfriend of yours will.”

Chloe glanced at me but then shrugged. “Sure. Thanks for thinking of me.”

Grandma Verda and Elizabeth departed shortly after, leaving Chloe and me alone. While we sat there and chatted, I went through the files Grandma had left for her. I wanted to see if the same man I’d drawn Chloe with was buried in there somewhere. Because with Grandma Verda? Well, I’d learned that sometimes there was much more she left unsaid than said.

But he wasn’t. So in this case, it seemed what she’d said was actually what she meant. Refocusing on Chloe, I asked, “How are things going with Kyle?”

“Okay. We laugh a lot, and he’s a great kisser, but it’s not like I thought it would be. Not yet, anyway.” Fleeting disappointment made her frown. “But I don’t think he’s changed all that much. Shelby says he’s a commitment-phobe.”

“What do you think?”

“Oh, he’s not even close to being ready to settle down, but that doesn’t mean he won’t change for the right girl.”

“Do you think he’s the right guy for you? That’s the more important question, because if he isn’t, then it doesn’t matter what he thinks.”

“It’s too soon to tell. I like him and we have fun together. That’s enough for now, so don’t worry. I’m not going to make the same mistakes I did last time, I promise.” Her green eyes shone with interest. “Have you had a chance to do that drawing I asked you about? The one of me on my wedding day, or of the guy I’ll end up with?”

My gaze darted downward. I hated lying to Chloe. “I did try. But it didn’t work. I’m sorry. I’ll try again soon, though.”

Her unhappiness came through loud and clear. “I was so hoping you’d be able to do it. Nothing happened at all when you made the wish?”

“I’m sorry,” I said again, not wanting to repeat my lie.

She sighed, and that made me feel worse. “Oh well, better luck next time, right? What about you and Ethan? Things are really going that great?”

A shiver of happiness slipped inside of me, briefly replacing my remorse. “Everything is amazing with him. I’m going to his place for dinner on Friday. I might even stay the night.” Well, actually, I’d already decided, if the opportunity presented itself I was definitely staying.

“Ooh! That’s wonderful. I have a good feeling about him.”

“Me too.”

We chatted for a while longer, and then I picked up the remaining files and dumped them into a brown grocery sack that I slid under my bed. You know, that whole
out of sight, out of mind
thing. Because what I couldn’t see, maybe I wouldn’t worry about.

After work the following Tuesday, I cruised over to Shelby and Grant’s house. I had a present for the babies, and I also had something I wanted to show Shelby.

The night before, I’d drawn as many of the faces as I could remember from my visions, dreams or whatever, and I wanted to see if Shelby recognized any. I was surprised how easily they came back to me, and I hadn’t even had to use magic to get it done. While Shelby identifying any of them might be a long shot, it was the only thing I could think of to see if she was the family
I
was supposed to recognize. It wasn’t like I had a lot to go on, other than the twin daughters element, and I wasn’t even sure if my thoughts about what Miranda said were right; but it was a start. Even better, it gave me something less heavy to focus on, at least for a little while.

When I got there, one of the girls was sound asleep in a bassinet in the living room. Shelby was tucked up on her couch, holding the other. “Who is who again? And how are you telling them apart?” I asked, taking a seat next to Shelby.

“This little peanut is Rebecca, and Jessica is snoozing away. And telling them apart is easy for me. I just know who is who.” She grinned. “But Grant is worried we’re going to mix them up, so we painted Rebecca’s toenail with a little bit of pink polish, and Jessica’s with red. And right now, Grant’s ironing little patches with their names into their clothes.”

“Good ideas! Gosh, she is so beautiful. How are you doing? Getting enough sleep?”

“Right now, but that’s only because Grant is off for another week. When he goes back to work, it’s going to be a little more difficult. We’ll manage though.”

I gazed at Rebecca, stroking the bottom of one bare foot with my finger. “She is just so…perfect. They’re completely identical?”

“From what we can see right now, they are. Crazy, huh?”

“Yeah, but really cool.”

“Do you want to hold her?”

“Oh. Um.” Did I? “I’m a little nervous. What if I squeeze her too tight or something?”

Shelby laughed. “You’ll be fine. Here.” Gently, she passed the baby to me, and as soon as she was in my arms, everything inside of me turned into a big, mushy pile of goo.

“This is incredible! Everything is so tiny.” I laid her down on my legs, so I could see her face. She scrunched her nose up and then turned her head to the side, moving her mouth. “She might be hungry.”

“She’s always hungry. But she just ate, so she’s fine.”

We talked a little about the benefits of nursing, and other things related to the care of newborn babies. I soaked it all in, knowing I’d be going through the same process myself not so far in the future. A moment of absolute calmness swept over me, and I smiled—both to myself and to the little one in my lap.

“You look natural holding her,” said Shelby, as if reading my thoughts. “Less than four more months to go for you. It’ll be awesome, seeing our kids grow up together.”

“Yeah, it will.” And that made me remember my drawing. “While I’m holding her, could you do me a favor? In my bag is a present for you, and I brought a picture I wanted your opinion on.”

Shelby retrieved the wrapped gift and the drawing I’d folded into a square. She opened the present first, and exclaimed over the dresses I’d bought her girls. “I love these! Thank you for not buying two identical outfits too. I really don’t want to do the matching clothes thing, but everyone seems to think I do.”

Ha! I’d almost gone that route, but decided not to. Points for me. “You’re welcome. You’ll have to give me a picture of the girls when they’re dressed in them.”

“I will.” Then Shelby carefully unfolded the drawing and looked at the dozen or so faces I’d sketched. “Wow, it’s sort of like a collage. Are you going to paint this or something?”

“I might. Do…um…any of them look familiar to you?” All were females, but some were of women and some children. I’d just drawn what I remembered, and I didn’t even know if the same person was depicted twice, once at a younger age.

She stared at the picture for a couple more minutes. I watched her intently, trying to read her reaction. “Hmm.” She shook her head. “No. Should I?”

Like I said—a long shot. And it didn’t mean Shelby wasn’t the descendant of Miranda’s other daughter. I’d mostly been operating on a hunch, even though it felt off to me. Besides, the pictures weren’t exact, or even complete, because it wasn’t like I had
that
great of a memory regardless, and definitely not when things flashed by at top speed in a dream state. “Probably not, but thought I’d ask.”

Questions appeared in her eyes, and I was trying to figure out how I was going to answer them when Jessica squawked from the bassinet. “Now,
she
is probably hungry.” Shelby stood and then scooped up the fussing baby into her arms. “I’m going to go upstairs to feed her. Are you okay with Rebecca?”

“Oh…if you want privacy, I can take off.”

“Don’t be silly. It won’t take long, and then we can keep talking.”

I nodded and watched her leave the room. I put my pinky finger in Rebecca’s tiny hand, and she squeezed. “Maybe you and my daughter will be friends,” I whispered.

She gurgled in a breathy, oh-how-sweet sort of way, and I smiled again. Because somehow, what had once terrified me now filled me with awe. And even with all the worries and fears I had, I couldn’t wait to meet my daughter. I just had to ascertain that everything was how it should be when that day finally arrived.

It always seemed to take forever to get to five o’clock on Fridays, but this particular Friday was the slowest of my entire life. I swear. Because all I could think about was going to Ethan’s place that evening. Thoughts, questions, and anticipation of the night ahead consumed me. So much so, concentrating on anything else proved to be difficult. Hell, it was nearly impossible.

When it was finally time to leave, I raced home as quickly as the speed limit allowed. Ethan had offered to pick me up, but I wanted to drive myself. That way, I could discreetly bring an overnight bag and leave it in my car, and run out and grab it if things went the way I thought they would. The way I wanted.

And yeah, I could have gone to Ethan’s directly after work, but I wanted the chance to be a girl. So I soaked in a bubble bath, rubbed scented lotion into my skin, brushed my hair until it shone, and found the one and only dress I owned that was still somewhat sexy. Not only was my belly barely noticeable in it, but the black dress with its little spaghetti straps showed off my arms, my legs, and just the right amount of cleavage. A strappy pair of black heels completed the outfit. Pregnant or not, I looked pretty damn good.

Now I sat in my car outside of Ethan’s apartment building. Getting there had been easy, as his directions had been perfect, but also because he didn’t live that far from Enchanted Expressions. I drew in a breath and slowly released it. Getting out of the car? Not quite as easy. My hopes for tonight—for me and Ethan—were huge. Wonderful. Glorious. The potential I saw for us made my head swim.

On the other end of that was the very real possibility that it would all crash down around me. And that was the reason I found it so hard to unbuckle my seat belt and make my way to Ethan’s door. But because going home was not an option I was willing to take, I gathered all of my fears and tucked them away.

Besides, if worse came to worst, I’d at least have tonight.

After climbing the steps to Ethan’s building, I buzzed his apartment. In mere seconds, another buzz met my ears and the door unlocked. When I reached his actual apartment, he stood in his doorway, waiting. His eyes skimmed over me with an appreciative gleam. “Hey there, beautiful. No problems finding the place?”

“Nope, none at all.” My voice quavered, just a little. Tonight he wore dressy black slacks and a dark purple—almost plum—button-down shirt. His cologne weaved around me, muddling my senses. “You are very handsome, Mr. Gallagher.” And he was. Big time. Not that that was anything new, but somehow, every time I saw him, I realized it all over again.

His hand reached out. I grasped it, and he tugged me inside. Leaning down, he kissed me lightly. “I’m going to finish dinner. Make yourself at home,” he said.

Putting my fingers to my lips, I nodded. He disappeared into the kitchen and I took stock of my surroundings. Ethan’s apartment was a loft-style, with a black iron staircase leading to the bedroom upstairs, which overlooked the living room. I could just make out the edge of his bed from where I stood. An image of us making love made me shiver. Pushing it away, for now, I pivoted on my heel to take in the rest.

The dining room, with its dark hardwood floors, and the living room, with its plush off-white carpeting, merged together, creating an open, inviting space. One wall was red brick, with the remaining walls painted a chocolate shade similar to his office. His sofa was large and comfortable looking, upholstered in a lush, suede-type brown fabric, and faced his wide-screen TV. Two chairs sat on either side, with gleaming end tables between. A ceiling lamp rested on top of one of these tables, with a toolbox sitting on the floor below. Grinning, I tipped my head up. Yep, a bunch of wires poked through the ceiling directly over the couch. Apparently, Ethan planned on playing Mr. Fix-it soon. My grin widened.

Other than that light, nothing was out of place. A desk rested against one wall, with his laptop and some papers sitting on top. Various pictures, a minimum of knickknacks, and a few plants added color and rounded out his furnishings. I couldn’t have imagined a better space for him, because everywhere I looked, I saw and felt Ethan. I sighed, and the last of my tension eased out of me.

At that moment, there was nowhere else I wanted to be, no one else I wanted to be with. That realization sifted in, relaxing me even more. Tonight was the night that everything I wanted and dreamed of would come true. I knew it, and that knowledge danced around inside of me, leaving me giddy—breathless, almost—with anticipation.

Not ready to sit down, needing to move, I walked across the room to a shelf where some photos were displayed. The first showed a man and woman standing arm in arm, with a little boy in front of them. My lips twitched. I recognized the boy immediately, as his dimples were a matching set to the adult Ethan’s. And wow, was he adorable—and he appeared more than a little mischievous. I stared at the younger version of Ethan for a while, wondering about the day the photo had been taken. Was it a good day? Had he laughed that day? I hoped so.

My eyes moved on, finding a picture of Ethan as I knew him now, sitting on a porch swing with an elderly woman. Her face was lined, but it held a smile as bright as any I’d ever seen. Something about this woman tugged at my memory and made me take a second look. Ah. Her eyes…they reminded me of Ethan’s, so she must be his grandmother. The love between them was evident in the photograph, and somehow, that too centered me.

I mean, come on: not only was Ethan sexy, funny, and oh-so-sweet, but he valued family in the same way I did. And that? Well, it solidified my feelings in a way that little else could.

I sensed him then, before I heard him. I turned just as he stopped beside me. His arm swung around my waist, and I shivered again. Funny, how the merest, gentlest touch from him could do that. “Ready for dinner?” he asked. “I can’t promise it’s the best food you’ll ever eat, but I can promise it’s edible.”

“I’m not picky.” Lifting my chin, I smiled. “Besides, I’m more interested in you than I am in food.”

Humor mixed with desire, strong and fast. “Good, because I’m only proficient in making three meals. One is scrambled eggs, one is grilled cheese sandwiches, and the other is homemade pizza. Guess which we’re having?”

Laughing, I let him lead me to the table. I don’t know if it was the moment, the company, my emotions, or what, but Ethan’s homemade pizza certainly was the best I’d ever had. Of course, he probably could have fed me dry bread and room-temperature water and I’d have said the same.

When we finished eating, we moved to the living room. He sat on the couch and opened his arms. I scooted into them, and we stayed that way for I don’t know how long. He offered to put a movie on, but honestly? Paying attention to anything other than Ethan would have proved impossible. Because every part of my body was focused on
him.
From his scent, to the feel of his leg pressed against mine, to his hand touching my shoulder and every now and then playing with my hair—he was all I could see.

After a while he picked up a remote and in one click, soft music poured into the room. His gaze met mine, and anticipation once again quivered in my stomach. “Dance with me, Alice,” he said.

I was surprised. “Really? I’m not the greatest dancer.” I’d probably stomp on one of his feet hard enough that we’d end up in the emergency room. That was so not the way I wanted any evening, and this one in particular, to end.

Standing, he held his arms out. “Really. Just one dance.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

I kicked my shoes off—for safety reasons—and then stepped into his embrace. My arms wrapped around his neck, his chin dipped down so it barely touched the top of my head, and my cheek pressed against the curve of his shoulder. Then we danced. Not just for one song, either, but for several. We fit together in a way I hadn’t expected, and dancing with Ethan made me feel graceful, beautiful, and sexy as hell.

His fingers brushed the bare skin at my neck, and then my shoulders, moving down to stroke my back. The tiniest crawl of warmth grew in my stomach—each touch, each breath, each soft step made it branch out bit by bit until heat suffused my entire body. All I wanted was Ethan.

A tremble edged through me, and I pressed myself tightly against him, the firmness of his chest meeting the softness of mine. My nipples hardened beneath the thin fabric of my dress, and the heat inside of me floated out until every inch of my skin shivered. Without thinking, because any coherent thought process had long since left my brain, I gave voice to the feelings swirling inside of me. “I love you,” I murmured.

I snapped my mouth shut immediately. Nervous ripples replaced the shivers of desire, of want, and a different type of warmth filled my face. When would I learn to think before I spoke? We stopped dancing, his arms locked around me, drawing me even closer. And in that one little movement, confidence soared. I knew what I felt, what I wanted, and really—why pretend I hadn’t said what I’d just said?

Bringing my hands to his chest, palms flat, I pushed back just enough so I could tip my head up and look into his eyes. They were dark, almost black instead of their normal gray, emotions swirling there like heavy, brooding clouds just before a storm. “Ethan. I love you,” I said again. My gaze didn’t leave his, because I wanted him to see the truth of my words, what existed inside of me.

The intensity of his expression tore through me, but still he didn’t speak. I tried to breathe, tried to calm the crazy beat of my heart, but I couldn’t. Need, want, and something else flowed through his eyes, his features, like wildfire. His hand went to my cheek, stroking backward until it touched my hair. “Are you sure? You can take it back, right now, if you’re not.”

“I’m positive. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I had to say it, had to make sure you knew how I felt. Right now, right this instant.”

His eyes darkened even more. He continued to stroke my hair, my face. “I fell for you before I even realized what was happening. I can’t explain it, but for the first time in my life, I find I don’t care much about logic. I don’t need to understand this.” He stopped speaking abruptly, but his gaze didn’t leave mine.

My breath caught in my chest. I knew, for the rest of my life, that I would remember this moment in vivid detail.

And then he said words I so wanted to hear. “I love you too. The only reason I haven’t said it before is because I didn’t want to scare you off.” His body quaked in a soft shudder. “I couldn’t bear to scare you off. So I convinced myself we needed to move slowly, so you could handle the changes coming into your life without me confusing everything. But Alice, I can see us together—in every way.”

“I can too. And right now, that’s all that matters.”

We didn’t speak, just moved together, slowly taking the stairs to his bedroom. Not one movement was rushed or frantic. The space was dark, with the barest glow of light from downstairs melting the shadows. I turned, and he unzipped my dress. It fell to the floor in a pool of fabric. I stepped out of it and into Ethan. His head came down and his lips met mine, and the desire between us was bright, hot, and pure energy. But so much more existed in this kiss, in our need, in our touches.

I unbuttoned his shirt and dragged it off of him, wanting nothing more than to feel his skin against mine. With hurried yet steady hands, I undid his pants and tugged them down, until they too dropped to the floor. We tumbled backward, landing on the bed in a hot, melting rush.

We kissed again. Everything inside of me yearned for something I didn’t understand, and while sex with Ethan was part of it, there was more, somehow, that I needed and craved. Trailing kisses from my mouth to my neck, and then down some more, his tongue found my breasts. I arched my back, a moan slipping out.

My hands roamed the length of his back, his muscles rippling at my touch, his skin growing hot beneath my fingers. He pulled at my panties, moving them down and off my legs. I moaned again, wanting more, wanting everything. He came back to me, wrapped his arms around me, and shifted my body against his pillows.

“I want you,” I said. “I want to feel you inside of me.” I didn’t recognize the sound of my voice. It was thick, heavy with desire, with longing.

He growled and brought his lips to mine. I weaved my fingers into his hair and pulled him toward me, plunging my tongue into his mouth. We continued to touch, to kiss, to explore, and every second—every minute—strengthened my feelings. There was no way this man wasn’t my soul mate. Every part of me recognized him.

He entered me in a soft, slow, sweet slide that took my breath away in a gasp. I wrapped my legs around his waist, tightened myself around him, and pulled him deeper with each thrust. He combed his fingers into my hair and groaned, thrusting again, sending trembles through both of our bodies. He took his time, didn’t rush, bringing me to the peak of my desire and then slowing the pace again. One moment was soft and sweet, the next heady and hot, our bodies moving together in a synchronicity I’d never before experienced; and now that I had…well, I couldn’t imagine anything else.

When I didn’t think I could handle any more, when my body screamed for release, I tensed my legs again, pushing him in hard, tight. I moaned as everything inside of me, everything around me, my entire being exploded in a million little sensations that rocked everything I ever thought I knew about sex. “Oh!” I murmured, burying my head in Ethan’s chest as he collapsed on top of me. Our bodies shivered, trembled, and we stayed that way for a long, blissful while.

And then he rolled to the side, his arms around me, his hands cradling my stomach, his breath warm on my neck. “Amazing,” he whispered.

“What is?”

“That we found each other.”

And because I agreed, I sighed in pure contentment. Curling myself into him, I fell asleep to the sound, to the feel of Ethan. The man I loved.

Light streamed into the room, waking me with its brilliance. It took a second to realize where I was, but when it hit, when the memories flooded in, the room became even brighter. I turned in bed, looking for Ethan, missing his touch, only he wasn’t there. Stretching luxuriously, I reveled in the way my body still hummed, the way my lips and neck still tingled from his kisses. My skin warmed as my mind played through the things we’d done to each other, the things we’d said. A mix of delight and satisfaction raised my temperature another notch.