Charmed & Ready (10 page)

She came early and did it all before she had to go in to the library. So when I came downstairs, it was to a very clean house. She's a great friend.

Caleb left an avocado sandwich from Lulu's and some chocolate pie in the fridge for my lunch. So it's lunch, a shower, a nap and then the dinner party. It almost feels like life is back to normal.

Well, with the exception that my former boyfriend hates me.

5 P.M.

Wow. I cannot wake up. Gonna run and take another quick shower. I can't decide what to wear. I think I'm leaning toward the halter top Zane bought, and those jeans I love. Maybe if I dress like I feel great, and pretend like I'm better, I will be.

If I ever see another one of those demons I'm going to blow it to hell and back.

Checked with Callie. Nothing unusual is going on with Zane. He and the band are gearing up for a concert tour that's going to start in the United States and then move back to Europe. He'd been doing some club dates to try out new songs, and now they're busy putting the show together.

She sounded bored. There's been a lot of activity with the warlock population in Australia, so she's probably missing her daily duels with the bad guys.

It made me laugh when she asked about Miles.

"What's with that ornery little twit who follows the prime minister around everywhere he goes?" She has a slight accent, but I doubt most people would guess she's from Nigeria.

"That's his assistant, Miles, he comes with the territory. And he's a bothersome ass. Just tell him you'll turn him into a poodle if he gives you any trouble, and he'll leave you alone."

She gave a hearty laugh. "Oh, I could see that ninny with some pink bows over his ears."

I'd had the same thought many days.

We hung up and that's when I took my nap. It was dreamless for once. Thank goodness. I keep seeing the strangest things in my dreams. Orange eyes that float around, and weird slimy eggs. And I wake up feeling sick.

Darn, it's getting late. Better get that shower and then dress before company gets here.

Tuesday, 10 A. M.

Sweet, Texas

Sort-of-happy witches: 1

Well, the party was a success. Kira outdid herself with the food. We had cheese enchiladas, rice, beans and sopaipillas with honey and butter.

Yummers.

Margie brought Billy, who is a sweet guy and looks like a sandy-haired surfer. But he's all cowboy. Right down to the "Yes ma'am" and "I reckon." A real Southern gentleman, who can tell a joke like nobody's business. He fit right into our little group.

Janet and Mike were also here. She's in the local coven, and helped to drag me in the house after I'd been attacked by Blackstock. I didn't know her at the time, but once I healed, we became good friends. She's one of the few natural witches here in Sweet. She doesn't have a lot of power, but she's got enough to help with healing.

She and her husband are opening a bookstore in town. They've been setting up for the past few months, and have promised to have a healthy dose of magical reference books available. Between Kira's stash at the library and the new store, I'll be covered.

An hour after everyone arrived, my shoulders dropped. Kira and the other women loved my outfit. I left off the leopard print shoes. Four-inch heels seem a little much for a party at home. So the feet were bare, except for the fuck-me red nail polish.

We listened to music and talked about everything. It was so much fun. Just as things were winding down about nine thirty, there was a knock on the door. I was in the kitchen and asked Caleb to get it.

Then there was yelling. "What the hell's going on? Is she okay?" Sam's voice boomed in the other room.

I peeked around the corner and he saw my face.

My stomach hit my toes, and my throat went dry.

"You told me you almost died," he screamed.

God, he was beautiful when he was angry. His skin flushed, his blue eyes glaring. I wanted to punch him for hurting my feelings and kiss him at the same time.

"Hey, she did, buddy, and you need to calm down." Caleb put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam shook him off. "I thought she was on her deathbed, and she's having a damn party."

Caleb started to speak, and I waved him down.

"I was sick, I'm better now. Garnout saved me. I'm sorry I left the message."

He stood and stared at me. His chest was heaving with a lack of oxygen.

"I thought you were dying. I've been out of town and my battery died on the cell. When I checked the messages at home, there were three from your mother, a couple from Kira and then yours." His eyes turned indigo.

"You almost died?" He seemed to have trouble with the idea.

"Yes, wasn't the first time, probably won't be the last." I shrugged and bit my lip to keep from smiling. He wouldn't be this angry if he didn't love me.

He scowled and shook his head.

Kira cleared her throat. "Well, Bron, you need your rest. Kitchen's cleaned up. I'll stop by and get the rest tomorrow. Come on gang, let's go."

She ushered everyone, except Sam, to the door.

Caleb whispered something in her ear. I saw her mouth, "She'll be fine."

Everyone said good-bye. I waved and smiled.

When the door shut, I focused on Sam.

"I'm sorry I left the message like I did. I just—"

He took a step closer to me. "What happened?"

"We were in London when a demon attacked, I fought him off and bound him, but not before he spat acid and screwed up my arm."

Sam looked down at my arm. Then at my chest. I suddenly realized the halter top was an inspired choice.

"I didn't know how powerful the poison was, or that it had black magic behind it. By the time I realized what happened, it was almost too late. If Garnout hadn't come in time… You didn't call me." The hurt of the past few weeks welled in my heart.

I moved past Sam. I don't know if it was the excitement of seeing him or just from the party, but I was suddenly beyond tired. I had a choice of fainting or sitting. I chose the latter.

He rushed to my side. And grabbed my wrist. Not in a sexy way, but in an I'm Dr. Sam way. "Damn, you've overdone it. You're paler than I've ever seen you and your pulse… Geez, when in the hell are you going to learn to take care of yourself?"

I was too tired to argue. "Could you yell at me tomorrow? I'm wiped out."

He pulled me up with one hand. "Come on, let's get you upstairs." That's when I noticed something was missing.

"Where's your cane?"

He looked down at his hand. "I don't need it anymore. Stop stalling. I can't carry you up those stairs quite yet, and you look like you're about to crater in less than a minute."

He had a point. My body felt drained of all energy. With his hand on my butt, he half pushed me up the stairs. I made it to the bed and sat down. For the fortieth time since I came home I wondered why I had made one of the guest bedrooms upstairs mine. It would be so much easier to use the master downstairs. There was just something about this room, maybe the view that looked out over the vast plains. I don't know.

Sam went to the dresser and grabbed an oversized Mickey Mouse T-shirt. He undid the halter and then pulled the big shirt over my head. Not even taking time to admire my tits, which he usually does with great abandon. He was in doctor mode and refused to be distracted.

He pushed me back and peeled the jeans off of me. I kind of hoped he noticed how good my butt looked when he followed me up the stairs.

The tiredness overtook me. "Sam?"

"I know Bron, move up and I'll pull the covers over you." His voice was soft and caring.

"Thank you." I snuggled into the covers.

He turned off the light and flipped the ceiling fan on. Even with the air-conditioning, it gets warm in the house. I heard him moving around for a minute. Then he climbed under the covers with me. He pulled my back to him, spooning, and that's the last thing I remember.

When I woke up this morning there was a glass of orange juice on the bedside table, and a note.

"I'll bring lunch. Rest. We'll talk later. Love—S"

So, I'm thinking "Love—S" is a good sign. Even if he's consciously mad at me, his unconscious still loves me. I know it's twisted. I don't care.

We definitely have to get all of this straightened out. He should know by now that I don't have intimate relationships with my clients. Okay, well there was that slight slip with Azir, but that's the only time. I don't kiss clients and I certainly don't sleep with them. And if nothing else happens this afternoon, Sam will know that.

Now I have to find something to wear that will make him think twice. I wish it weren't so warm. Those leather pants look awesome. Oh, I know, the denim shorts. He loves these raggedy shorts I wear to work in the garden. My butt hangs out of the bottom, but I think that's part of the appeal.

Thoroughly kissed witches: 1

Talk about your afternoon delight. Yum. Sam brought chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes and blueberry pie from Lulu's. I'm so full all I want to do is take a nap.

Full and happy.

I had found one of his old button-down shirts and tied it around my waist, and put on the skanky shorts. I wanted all guns firing.

He didn't bother knocking, just came into the kitchen where I was mixing some herbal iced tea. His eyes went straight to my ass.

And I smiled.

"So what's in the bag?" I pointed.

As he opened it, the smell of home cooking poured into my kitchen.

He set it on the counter. "The girls sent chicken-fried steak and the fixings. Ms. Johnnie sends her love and an order that you are to clean your plate. You're still a bit on the peaky side, she says."

"The peaky side?" I laughed.

"It's a direct quote."

We didn't talk while he put out the food, and I set the table in the kitchen. I love my kitchen; we recently stained the cabinets and it has umber walls. Very Mediterranean. It's also calming.

Placing the food on the plates, he piled mine high with Southern delicacies.

We both reached for the sugar at the same time, and our fingers brushed. That frisson of energy I feel when he touches me sizzled. I backed off. He took the spoon from the china bowl and added three teaspoons to my glass and then put some in his own.

I looked down at my plate and tried not to smile. It's those intimate gestures that get me. The little things like putting sugar in my glass first.

He pointed to the back of the kitchen where the door led to the conservatory. "How are your plants doing in this heat?"

I guess we had to start somewhere. "Not too bad. They got a little dehydrated when I was gone, even with daily watering. Caleb's set the misters so they come on twice a day now. I can't wait for fall so I can plant some more herbs."

There's also Sam's smell. It's a mix of patchouli and sandal-wood. I love it. For me it's like smelling home, which is strange because most of the time my house smells like a mix of vanilla and cinnamon. I'd been so angry with him in London for not believing in me, now all I wanted was to lay my head on his shoulder and sniff him.

I sighed, and he must have mistaken it for sadness.

"Bron, I should probably say I'm sorry about not calling you back." He put his fork down and leaned back in his chair.

I swear I wasn't playing hard to get, but I didn't know what to say. He
should
apologize. So I kept my mouth shut.

"It's not an excuse, but I haven't been myself lately. I still get tired and I'm not sleeping well. Then I saw that newscast, and everyone was staring at me. I could see it in their eyes. 'Poor Dr. Sam,' lost his girl to the big famous rock star."

"Sam…"

He shook his head. "And it hurt, Bron. I know now, that nothing happened. But you were all over him and he had his arms around you. It hurt."

Now it was my turn.

"I'm sorry too. I had too much to drink, and the crowd was pushy. We were more leaning on each other than anything. I saw the pictures, I know what you thought. But that hurts too, Sam. You know how much I love you and that it's not easy for me to love the way we do. And you were ready to toss it all away because of some stupid photographers, who I really need to hex as soon as I can perform magic again."

Garnout said I had to wait at least one more week before I tried anything of the magical persuasion. It didn't matter. My body wasn't cooperating and I doubted I could incinerate a fly at this point.

"I love you too." He said the words but he still had anger in his eyes. "I—" Shaking his head he picked up his fork and dug into his chicken-fried steak.

"Tell me, Sam. What is it?" I wanted to touch him, but we had to get this clear first.

Blowing out a breath, he stared at me. "I'm more angry that you almost died. As angry as I was about the rock star, it paled in comparison to how I felt when I got home and found out you almost didn't make it. I'm not sure I can ever get used to this job of yours. Every time you leave town I'm going to wonder if this is it. Am I going to see you again?"