For All Time
For All Time
Magic Stone Series, Book 1
J.M. Powers
Breathless Press
Calgary, Alberta
www.breathlesspress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
For All Time
Copyright © 2013 J.M. Powers
ISBN: 978-1-77101-994-1
Cover Artist: Victoria Miller
Editor: Spencer Freeman
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Breathless Press
www.breathlesspress.com
Dedication
To cute guys in tights. You’re not weird.
Well, maybe just a little, but you make my clock tick.
Chapter One
Sage watched the heron skim the trees before making its slow descent to the nearby marsh. When it dipped out of sight, she scanned the area just below where the bird disappeared. She jumped at a shadowy mass in a maple tree a few yards to her left and Tex growled, his silver scruff rising.
“What the hell?” Her initial shock waned, and she drew nearer, urged by curiosity. High overhead, among the greenery, a man dangled from the branches.
With her pulse hammering, she looked down the trail then up around the bend. Not a soul. Great. Any other time she would’ve bumped into the park ranger who always seemed to talk to her breasts. For the first time ever she wished the creep was patrolling the reserve today. For a moment she considered returning to her pickup and... And what? Pretend she never saw this dude in a tree? Tex pulled on the leash, leading her closer to the body.
Her breath caught. “Don’t be dead, okay?” She meant to call out, but all that escaped was a whisper.
As if in answer, his body twitched, sending Tex into a barking frenzy. Fighting panic, she took a deep breath and attempted to process the situation, which was difficult with her dog yapping like a maniac.
“Tex, hush!” She tugged the leash, but his barking continued. It wasn’t surprising. Once he started, he refused to stop. This time, she could hardly blame him.
Tex pulled her to the edge of the trail, which was about six feet from the tree, but she stopped short of actually stepping off it. The guy was close enough to see, yet far enough to run away from—a distance she was comfortable with. She slipped off her sunglasses and hung them on the neck of her tank top, then peered up through the greenery. The man’s clothing looked odd. His heavy coat, pulled taut to his shoulders by a knurly branch, was all that held him on the branch. Pants so tight he looked poured into them, knee boots, and an old-fashioned shirt with lacing completed his ensemble. Or was it a costume? Panic ebbed as she studied him. Why was he wearing a coat in the middle of the summer? Come to think of it, shouldn’t she be more concerned he was hanging in a tree? The thought made her grin. A stupid, inappropriate grin. She did that when she was nervous, and though she was virtually alone, it embarrassed her.
She cleared her throat. “Uh...hello?” The leaves rustled in the breeze, the birds and squirrels chattered, but he didn’t make a sound. Seriously, couldn’t this dude hear the dog? “Hello?” she repeated a bit louder. Still nothing. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey, wake up!”
The branch creaked at his startled jerk. Sage cringed, hoping he didn’t plunge to the ground. Gritting her teeth at the incessant barking, she gave the leash a quick tug and pointed at Tex. “Stop that!”
Tex gave a one last yip and stared at her finger, his dappled gray tail guiding his sturdy body into a full wag.
A moan returned her attention upward. The man’s eyes slowly opened. She sucked in a breath when their gazes met. Brown, nearly black eyes...or was it the sunlight reflecting off the leaves that made them look so deep and gorgeous? Damn, what was wrong with her? The naughty tingles he caused with a simple look upon her were totally inappropriate—and kind of nice. The colliding thoughts and reaction confused her.
She blinked and shook her head. Silence stretched, neither saying a word. Tex’s whine interrupted the moment and she frowned at his furry face.
She rubbed her eyes, glanced up, then back to the dog. “It’s the heat. There’s no one there, right?”
Tex sat and stared up through the branches.
“I am here, fair one.” The stranger’s deep voice permeated the still air. She’d rather her dog answered.
She blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Dammit.” With a huge sigh, she stepped off the path, underbrush crunching as she made her way to the tree. “Hang out here much?”
Dangling dude’s eyes widened.
She placed a hand on her hip. “Are you drunk or something?”
Or available?
She stifled a nervous giggle.
He paused before answering. “I do not believe I am drunk. Though I was just...” He stared at her, his gaze tunneling into a place she didn’t know existed. All she knew was it made it tingle. “Or I may well be drunk, for I do not...” It seemed he didn’t know what to say.
Oh, and that English accent was downright yummy. Or was it Scottish? She suppressed a grin at the thought of him wearing nothing beneath a kilt. Why did her mind flitter there? “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what the hell are you doing up there?”
“I-I do not know.” Worry washed over his face for a moment. “I fear I find myself in an awkward predicament.”
“Tell me about it,” she muttered.
He flashed a smile and shrugged.
His smile disarmed her. Was that a dimple she spied? Of course. What hot guy didn’t have a dimple? But this one was in a tree. Not quite the best place to meet a man. Sage tore her gaze away from him and peered back down the trail.
“Dear Saint Anthony, please come round, there’s something here that can’t be found,” she whispered. Yeah, so it was a little prayer she’d utter when she lost something. She’d apparently lost control of her effing mind. And body. Tingles or not, she really needed to get this guy help. Though she didn’t see a soul on the way in the nature reserve, she hoped someone, anyone, had arrived since. She sighed at the empty trail.
She walked closer to the man, her hiking boots dredging up the combination of rot and dampness. “Are you hurt?”
“It took quite some time for ye to ask.”
“It took quite some time for me to process you being in a tree. So, are you hurt or not?”
“Nay, I do not believe so. I am, however,
wounded
with embarrassment.”
“Hilarious.” Her incessant grin overrode intended sarcasm.
He chuckled and Tex took that as an invitation to dart between her legs, nearly tripping her in his haste to meet a new playmate.
She grabbed a nearby branch to steady herself. “I better call 911 anyway.” She reached into her back pocket for her cell phone. “Or not.”
He gave her a blank look. “Pray tell, what is nine-one-one?”
“Very funny. Never mind. I left it on the charger anyway.” Sage lowered her voice and mocked him. “What is nine-one-one?” She giggled at the sore attempt at a English—or Scottish accent. She decided to find out which. “What accent do I detect?” That sounded intelligent, right?
“English.” He gave another of his disarming smiles. “Ye be a strange sort.”
“I’m not the one hanging out in a tree.”
“’Tis about time I find a way down then.” He held the branch above and maneuvered back and forth with alternating hands until he shimmied out of the coat “Clever, aye?” He winked and reached for a nearby limb.
“Quit acting like a monkey and pay attention to what you’re”—she winced with each crack, thud, and grunt until he finally landed on the forest floor— “doing.”
Tex lunged for him, yipping like the fool he was.
Slipping a dagger from his boot, the stranger leaped to his feet. “Control that beast!”
In her rush to step back she nearly fell on her bottom. Thankfully, the taut leash kept her upright. “Seriously? What’s with the damn knife? My dog’s harmless! Put that away.” She snapped both hands up and struck a karate pose, hoping it looked convincing. When she thought about it, though, she was sure it just looked stupid, but she held it just the same. “I warn you. I have a black belt.” Tex sat at her feet peering up at her. Where was his ferocious bark now?
He glanced at her waist. “I care not what ye wear.” He slid the dagger into the sheath on his boot then gave a curt nod and rubbed his side. “
Now
I am hurt.”
She glared at him. “Serves you right, Edward Scissorhands.” Okay, that was dumb, but in her state of mind, understandable.
Two furrows creased between his brows. “Ye are mistaken. I am Sir Cade.”
Sir? He looked about her age, maybe a year or two older. She was not calling him sir. Even if he was a hottie. Tall, pitch-black wavy hair, square jaw. Yep, steamy hot. She glanced at the dagger peeking from his boot, her eyes dawdling at the sculpted muscles in his legs. Damn, was he wearing tights? Didn’t matter. He looked amazing. Must spend loads of time at the gym—without tights hopefully.
He gave a small bow. “Sir Cade of Surrey,” he said, jarring her out of her appreciative musings.
“Huh? Yeah well, keep that knife tucked away, Cade.” She pointed at his boot. She’d said Tex was harmless. What was she thinking? Now he’d know she was defenseless. Trying to recover from her previous flub, she blurted, “He’s very protective.”
“Who?”
“My dog.” She indicated to Tex, who had promptly attended to licking his private parts. “All I have to do is order him to attack.”
“Ah, I see.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Whilst thou grace me with an introduction?”
“His name is Tex.”
“I meant thy name.”
“Oh.” She felt the blush heat her cheeks. “Sage. Like the herb.” She gave a tentative smile. “I think my mom went into labor while cooking dinner.”
“Sage,” he repeated, pronouncing it
Sawge
. “It appears an overabundance of ale addled my senses. The last I recall, I was at a New Year’s celebration.”
New Year’s was six months ago. What was he talking about? “Uh...okay.”
He squinted at his coat still dangling in the tree. She sidled closer and looked up. His scent made her inhale deeply. Instead of cologne he smelled like maple, and a spicy aroma she couldn’t place. Nice.
“I suppose my coat is not worth fetching.” He turned, his eyes filled with...regret? Was he worried about the damn coat? “I pray forgiveness for brandishing the dagger,” he said, his intense gaze boring a hole into her.
Her breath hitched and she nodded, the sincerity of his words hitting her.
“Does that nod mean I am forgiven?”
“Yeah, I suppose I’d have done the same thing if I woke up in a tree, fell, and then met a barking dog.”
Great play-by-play, Sage.
He rubbed his chin, his brown eyes filled with a questioning look. “The weather is unusually warm.”
Huh? That didn’t make sense. Wait... Yes it did. She mentally smacked her forehead with her palm at the realization that the he was resorting to small talk about the weather. She grappled for a reason to broaden the conversation. “Um, Tex and I were headed to the marsh.” She pointed through the trees. “Want to join us?” Maybe she could sway the conversation to a date. Where did that come from? What was the draw to this guy?
After the initial shock of her breakup with jerk-face a year ago, she’d decided life was less complicated without a boyfriend. And now, out of nowhere, a hottie dressed like an actor in a Renaissance fair drops out of a tree. She couldn’t decide if she was lucky or not. All she knew was interest mingled through every thought. She scratched her dog between the ears. “So, do you want to join us or not?”
“Ah, ‘tis tempting, but...” He strode to the path and looked both ways. “Mayhap we could walk to Surrey instead?”
“Sorry?”
He raised a brow. “Nay, Surrey.”
She tilted her head and studied him. “I already accepted your apology.”
He shifted from one foot to another. “My apology?”
“Yeah.” What was up with this guy? Whatever he was drinking must’ve caused a major hangover. Just last weekend she was a bit addled after too much wine and an unfortunate “hook-up” between her body and the stairs leading to her house. This guy shouldn’t travel alone. She put out her hand. “Give me that knife for safekeeping and I’ll give you a ride.”
“Where is thy mount?”
“My mound?” Oh, that was wrong in so many ways.
“Ah, thy mound?” He scratched his chin as his gaze roved her body. “It seems I did not misjudge thy attire—and thy cursing. Though what ye wear is quite,” he cleared his throat, “revealing.” Did she see disappointment in his eyes?
