For Love or Magic (20 page)

I don't know how long my eyes were closed. I might have fallen asleep for a bit. I was drowsy, drunk, and postcoital, so I wasn't paying careful attention. It wasn't until I felt Desmond's arm move that I opened my eyes to see Desmond holding his hand up in the shaft of moonlight coming through the window.

“No evident light phenomena,” I murmured drowsily, and Desmond kissed the top of my head.

“I have felt as much emotion this evening as I have in a lifetime before.” His voice was soft, calm, and lulling. “If I had any magic in me, it would be bouncing all over this room.”

I was quiet for a bit, and then I said, “So … do you think it's possible that everything's okay? That nothing bad is going to happen? My father just wants a relationship with me, and that's it?”

“It's possible,” he said, his voice sleepy and soft.

“Hmmm. This is weird.”

“What?”

“Living in a world where I feel safe.” I snuggled into his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. He smoothed my hair with his hand, and it felt so good that I let out a little sigh of contentment.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked. “We don't have to cuddle if it prevents you from sleeping.”

“I can sleep anytime, anywhere, in any position. It's one of my many charms.” I created a little swirl in his chest hair with my index finger. “Feel free to shove me over in the night. I won't notice.”

“I'm content as we are, for the moment,” he said, shifting down a bit into the pillows, but still keeping his arms around me.

“Yeah, it's kind of weird how well we fit together,” I said on a yawn, and closed my eyes.

“It is at that.” He kissed the top of my head, and we fell asleep.

*   *   *

The next morning, things were strangely comfortable. We woke up at dawn, still entwined, and moved into quiet, dreamy morning sex without any awkwardness. We talked and laughed over a small breakfast of coffee and English muffins, and Desmond seemed fine. When the twenty-four-hour mark of the moment I'd shot magic through him came and went without event, we figured it was time to get back to life as usual. He drove me home and we kissed in the front seat of his car for a good ten minutes before Seamus's whines from the backseat killed the moment. Before leaving, he asked if he could take me out to a birthday dinner before the bicentennial on Saturday, and that was it.

I, Eliot Parker, cheated widow and magical freak show, was apparently in some kind of … relationship.

Happy Larry was not happy.

“What's the matter with you?” he asked, giving me a strange sideways look as he wiped down the bar during my shift that night. “You're all … smiley.”

“I am not,” I said, and put my hands to my cheeks. I had been smiling so much, my face hurt. But I couldn't stop. Every time I tried to channel my typically cranky self, I'd think about Desmond and my face would break into this stupid, gummy smile and I'd feel like an idiot, but I couldn't help it.

Larry picked up a bottle of gin and inspected it, shooting me a look. “You skimming off the top?”

“No,” I said. “When I drink, I actually get more cranky.”

He handed me the bottle. “Then take a shot on the house. You're weirding me out.”

I laughed and put the bottle back. “Get used to it.”

He seemed mildly ameliorated by my insolence, but not enough to look entirely comfortable. Instead, he muttered something I couldn't hear over the jukebox and disappeared into his office, which was just as well.

About an hour later, Peach Easter waddled in behind a huge belly full of baby, looking like a fifties pinup girl who had swallowed a beach ball. She was wearing a bright orange dress that splayed out to her knees, with her hair pulled up into a matching bandanna. Her makeup was expertly applied, and even her manicure was flawless. She somehow managed to settle herself on a stool, even if she had to sit sideways to the bar in order to do it.

This woman was my goddamn hero.

“You still haven't had that kid yet?” I said, placing a coaster in front of her.

“If the little monster doesn't come out on her own by Monday, I'm sending a team in to get her,” she said, one hand resting on her taut belly. “Walking is supposed to induce labor. I've been walking all over this damn town for two days.
Nothing
. Having sex is supposed to induce labor. Nick's at the point where he's making excuses.
Nothing
. I've been an obstetrics nurse for ten years, and I always thought those women who shot evening primrose oil up their hoohas to get the baby out were crazy, but I'm telling you now … I get it.”

“Are you hoping that gin induces labor?” I said, grinning. “Because I'm not sure I can serve a pregnant lady.” I thought about it and shrugged. “I could possibly look the other way while you snag a bottle from behind the bar, though.”

Peach laughed and patted her stomach. “No. I haven't had a drop since the stick turned pink. No booze, no caffeine, not for nine months.” She slapped her hand down on the bar. “No! Ten! Nine months is a myth. Forty weeks, four weeks per month, that's
ten
months. Plus the extra week she's been in there cooking, just taking her damn time.” She looked down at her belly and raised her voice. “What do you need, kid? An engraved freakin' invitation?”

“How about a seltzer with lemon?” I said. “On the house.”

Peach looked back at me and nodded gratefully. “That would be great.”

I went about making the drink and Peach leaned sideways to get a little closer to me.

“Hey, what are you doing Saturday night, before the bicentennial?”

I put the drink down in front of her. “Oh. Well. I have a … thing.” It felt weird to say it was a date. Desmond and I were undefined at the moment, and that was good by me.

“A thing? What thing? Like a date?”

I shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “It's not a date. It's just dinner.”
With a guy I had crazy sex with all night.

She clapped her hands. “Perfect! Bring him along!”

“Um…” I paused for a moment, trying to figure out if I'd missed something in the conversation. “Bring him where?”

“We're having a dinner party, at Liv's,” Peach said. “Stacy and Leo, Liv and Tobias, me and Nick,
unless the baby decides to break out.
” She directed that last bit pointedly at her stomach, then picked up her drink and sipped through the tiny red straw and winked at me. “Power of suggestion. Worth a shot. Anyway, we thought it would be nice if you could come. Liv's really grateful for how you helped with Tobias and everything. And we like you.”

I couldn't help but smile at her diplomacy. “You don't
all
like me.”

Peach rolled her eyes. “What, Stacy? You can't take her seriously. She talks to all of us like that. Her mother is a harridan, and she treated Stacy like crap her whole life, and so Stace doesn't know how to behave around people. She likes you just fine. Seven o'clock okay? That'll give us enough time to get to the bicentennial for the fireworks.”

“Oh, um, I don't know…” I hesitated, not sure if I was ready to talk about what was happening with Desmond, but there wasn't really any way to avoid it. “Desmond is the guy I was going to dinner with.”

“What a surprise,” she said flatly, her eyes glittering with amusement as she sipped innocently on that tiny straw. She put the drink down and grinned at me. “Don't look so shocked. You live in a very, very small town. Clementine Klosterman saw him driving you home this morning, and she called Liv. She was worried that maybe he'd kidnapped you or something.” Peach shrugged. “She's still a little skittish around him. A lot of people are.”

“You're not,” I said.

She shook her head. “When Nick says he has a good feeling about someone, I've just learned to trust him. He works landscaping. Nobody tries to impress Nick. He sees them exactly as they are, and he's the best judge of character I've ever known.”

I pulled out some lemons to cut while we talked so that if Larry came out from his office he'd think I was working. “But … Stacy's his sister. Didn't he want to kill Desmond after all that stuff happened last summer?”

Peach nodded. “Yeah. He did. He was so mad. Desmond did a number on my mother-in-law, too.” Peach rolled her eyes. “Desmond gave Lillith magic, and a little bit of power in a bitch like that is a really bad thing. Nick wanted to kill Desmond for a long time. Then, he tried.”

I stopped cutting and looked up. “He tried to kill him?”

Peach waved a hand in the air. “The way men are always trying to kill each other. Nick went for a walk around town one night, saw Desmond, and just laid into him. I wasn't there, but I heard the story from, like, twelve people. Nick hit Desmond, and Desmond just took it. He didn't argue, he didn't say anything to defend himself, didn't raise a hand to deflect the blows. Just stood there and took it. Nick hit him hard, knocked him down, and when he shouted at Desmond to fight back, Desmond didn't say anything. He just got up and stood there. He was gonna take his punishment until Nick got tired or killed him, whichever came first. Nick swore at him and took him to the hospital to get his eyebrow stitched up and his ribs wrapped. The whole time, he told me, he was waiting for Desmond to press charges, and he was thinking about how much I was going to kill him when I had to bail him out of jail. But Desmond told the doctors that he fell down the stairs, and that was that. Desmond came to work for Nick the next week, and it was all fine.” She rolled her eyes again. “Men.”

I went back to cutting the lemons, not wanting Peach to see how affected I was by the story. I knew that Desmond had done bad things, but the idea of anyone hurting him, even if he deserved it, made me a little shaky. We were quiet for a while. Peach reached out and touched my hand. I looked up to find her giving me a sympathetic smile.

She watched me for a moment, then leaned into the bar. “Still, I was completely against it when Nick hired Desmond to do landscaping work for him. I mean, between dosing Leo and hitting Stacy…” She raised her eyes to watch me, her expression wary. “Did you know about that?”

I nodded. “Yeah. He told me.”

Peach eyed me for a moment. “Good.” She took another sip of her seltzer, then set it down and sighed. “Anyway, Nick said he was hiring Desmond, and I said, ‘Nick, you're crazy,' and Nick just said, ‘He's a good guy.'” She smiled and let out a small laugh. “And then, two weeks later, Nick went down to Pittsburgh to check out a new paving stone supplier, and he had Desmond redoing the walkway at our house. It was April or so, I was still cute-pregnant, not mammoth-pregnant like I am now. My ankles were still normal-sized and I was wearing these really cute strappy sandals, and this adorable little pink baby doll outfit.” She gave a wistful sigh. “Anyway, I tripped over my own feet and Desmond was there before I even realized what was happening. He caught me and carried me into the house and set me down and wouldn't leave until he was sure the baby and I were both fine. Luckily the kid was turning cartwheels that day, or I think he would have carried me all the way to the hospital if he had to. Did you know he used to be a doctor?”

I shook my head. “No.”

Peach nodded. “You think that's weird? That he tells you he hit a woman, but not that he used to be a doctor? Of course, he lost his license for doing magical tests on cadaver brains or something, so maybe that's why.” She shrugged. “Men, who can figure 'em, right?”

“Right,” I said, and fiddled with my bar towel.

“So, Saturday? Seven o'clock?”

I smiled. “I'll talk to Desmond.”

Peach patted the bar twice, then used it as leverage to push herself up. “Hopefully, I'll be in the hospital
with a baby in my arms.
” She aimed that at her stomach, then looked at me and smiled. “But if not, it would be great to have a doctor at dinner, just in case the little monster decides to crash the party.” She winked at me and waddled toward the exit. I watched her go, feeling a strange happiness run through me at the thought of a real, adult dinner party. With real, adult friends.

“Hey!”

I looked up from the bar to see Larry frowning at me from his office door.

“Quit smiling and go get that table's order!” he said, pointing to a table in the corner where a couple just sat down. I grabbed a pen from the cup below the bar and grinned at him.

“You bet, sunshine!” I blew him a kiss as I hurried past him. He grunted something unintelligible and slammed the office door.

It was turning out to be a pretty good day.

 

Chapter 12

I woke up in the dead of night to the sound of crashing dishes. Seamus, sleeping on the rug by my bed, of course heard nothing. I nudged him with my toes as I got out of bed, he jolted up and walked beside me as I moved down the hallway into my kitchen. I flipped on the light and saw a dinner plate go flying from the kitchen over the dining room table, and into the front window, where it exploded into a thousand ghostly pieces that dissolved into nothing as they hit the floor. Seamus panted at my side, but when I let go of his collar, he just ambled over to his water dish and took a drink.

After all, there was nothing for him to see.

Judd sat on the kitchen counter. The cabinet holding my small collection of sad, mismatched dishes was open, but I'd probably left it open. Between Judd's legs there was a ghostly bottle of Jim Beam which had maybe a third left, and Judd took a gulp when he saw me. He reached into the cabinet, grabbed a ghostly dish, and threw it at the window again. Once again, it shattered and dissolved into nothing. All my plates were undisturbed, in the cabinet.

“It's all imaginary,” he said, staring at the window. “The dishes, the booze. I can make them appear, but they don't have weight. They don't have
heft.
They don't have shit.” Still, he took another drink, because he was Judd, and he'd never met a self-destructive behavior he didn't take to like a fish to water.