Spellbound Falls (38 page)

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Authors: Janet Chapman

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Spellbound Falls
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Only instead of returning to Atlantis to beg his father’s forgiveness, in just a few days Mac intended to start a battle between them that would likely make it impossible for him to go home ever again.

Although home was wherever his heart belonged, he’d just recently discovered.

“Here,” Olivia said, picking up the smaller of the two shopping bags. “I brought you supper and some cookies to save for later, and a book.”

Since Henry was likely full from the basket of food Caro had brought him, the boy immediately went for the book. “Oh, wow! What’s it about, Miss Olivia?”

“It’s called
Where the Wild Things Are
, and the little boy in the story—his name is Max—gets sent to his room for being bad.” She tapped the cover. “And I thought you might enjoy how Max spends his time.” She gave a soft laugh. “There’s no gods lopping off heads or having sex with everyone, but I think you’ll like it anyway. Um, if you can’t read the words, I’m sure your auntie Caro can sneak in sometime tomorrow and read it to you the first time. Then you can keep repeating the story out loud to yourself by following the pictures.”

“Oh, I can read this,” Henry said, holding it out to the moonlight as he scanned some of the pages. “And I really like the monsters; they’re not nearly as scary as demons.” He closed the book and clutched it to his chest. “Thank you, Miss Olivia. I will cherish your gift forever.”

“Yes… well,” Olivia said thickly, bending down to pick
up the other bag. “And while I was shopping, I just happened to find some pajamas for you and your dad.”

Mac straightened away from the tree again.

“You got
Dad
pajamas?”

Olivia reached in and pulled out a handful of material, then set the bag on the ground in order to hold an oversized shirt up to her body. “He can’t go around naked when you have friends sleeping over any more than you can, Henry. Well?” she asked, smoothing the shirt over her chest so the boy could see what was on the front. “Do you think he’ll like them?”

“What is… Is that an animal wearing a long robe and funny hat?”

“Henry, it’s
Mickey Mouse
,” she said, looking down at her chest as she pointed at the shirt. “You honestly don’t know who Mickey Mouse is? What about Donald Duck? Or Goofy? Pluto?
Disneyland?

“I know Pluto, only his real name is Hades.”

Olivia sighed loud enough that Sam probably heard it down in the bunkhouse. “Never mind Pluto,” she muttered, poking the shirt on her chest. “This is Mickey Mouse. And see his magic wand? Mickey’s a
wizard
. Or as you might call him, a theurgist.”

“Oh no,” Henry said as he shook his head, utterly serious. “Mickey’s hat is all wrong, and Dad’s staff is usually a tri—” Seeing where the conversation was heading, Mac picked up a rock and lobbed it toward the lake, where it hit the shoreline then bounced out onto the rotting ice in echoing thuds.

“Ohmigod, here!” Olivia cried in a whisper, shoving the shirt at Henry, then tossing the shopping bag through the window. She grabbed the boy and gave him another quick kiss. “Hang tight, sport. I’ll be back tomorrow.” She frantically looked toward the lake as Henry closed the curtains, then darted toward the closest tree.

Mac stepped around behind her and swept Olivia off her feet, and strode off with her in his arms toward the lake.

“Dammit, you scared ten years off my life,” she
growled—though he noticed she settled against him quickly enough. “How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to hear that for every step I take closer to Henry, you’re encouraging him to take three steps away from me.”

She rested her head in the crook of his neck, apparently not at all disgruntled at being lugged around. “I do believe that’s why you’re paying me the big bucks.”

Mac sat down next to the shoreline and leaned his back against a tree, then positioned Olivia on his lap so that her face was washed in moonlight.

And then he started unzipping his jacket.

Her hand shot up to stop him. “W-what are you doing?”

“I’m letting you return my property. Isn’t that why you’re wearing it?”

She pushed his hand away and slid the zipper back up to her chin, the moonlight showing her blush. “I’ll give it back tomorrow. I’m kind of chilled right now.”

“I will keep you warm,
marita
,” he whispered, urging her to relax against him. “Did you get everything you wanted in Bangor today?” he asked. “Or did you decide to let me take care of that concern?”

“I took care of it.” She picked up his hand and wove her fingers through his. “But the doctor said we shouldn’t… we can’t be together for a couple of days. Mac, are you as rich and powerful as Henry thinks you are?” she asked quietly.

But he could feel the tension humming through her. “Yes. Did you bring me back a token of your affection?”

She hesitated, clearly not liking his redirecting the conversation. “Actually, I did,” she said with a sigh. She untwined their fingers to reach in the pocket of his jacket, her hand emerging with a small black rectangular sheath. She held it up for him to see. “You’re a very hard man to buy for, you know.” She arched a delicate brow. “Though I did try to find you a manly bracelet, but they all had
clasps
. So I got you this instead.”

She flipped open the pouch and pulled out a metal… something. “It’s a multitool,” she explained, spreading its
two halves apart. “It has a serrated and a smooth knife blade, a file, two screwdrivers, needle-nose pliers, and… well, I don’t know what some of these things do. But I do know every red-blooded male living around here wears a multitool on his belt.” She handed it to him. “So I thought that every time you used it, you’d think of me. Or at the very least you’d think of my creative use for a condom because you didn’t have anything to cut off the tops of the water bottles.”

Mac reached his arms around her in order to open and close Olivia’s gift as he studied its many tools, feeling touched in a way that was unfamiliar to him. “This is perfect, Olivia,” he said, hearing the thickness in his own voice. “I will wear it all the time, everywhere.” He leaned around to smile at her. “Except in bed, as I don’t believe my new pajamas have a belt.” He kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger on the heat of her blush. “Thank you,
marita
. I will cherish this for always.”

He saw her blush brighten. “It’s nothing special, just a silly tool.” She reached out and turned it in his hand. “I had it inscribed.” And then she gave him a smug smile. “Only it’s in a foreign language.” She relaxed against him again with a soft snort. “And I promise I’ll tell you what it says one day soon,” she drawled, throwing his words back at him from when she’d asked what
marita
meant.

Not wanting to spoil her fun by telling her there wasn’t a language or dialect he didn’t speak, Mac held her gift up to the moonlight and pretended to try to read what he realized was a French inscription—or more specifically, French-Canadian. Mac guessed that was the only language Olivia had immediate access to here in Maine, with Canada and the Atlantic Ocean being close neighbors.

Real magic has the power to rock the world, as you have rocked mine.

He ran his thumb over the inscription, wondering why she’d chosen such peculiar words, even as he hoped she still held the same sentiment a few days from now.

“You really don’t have to wear it if you don’t want,” she
whispered, and Mac felt her slipping away into her shadows. She shrugged, giving a self-conscious laugh. “Especially not to your board meet—”

He draped her backward over his arm and kissed her, and didn’t stop until he felt her shiver in response. And having figured out her gift now that he’d held it awhile, Mac flicked it open to expose the tool he wanted, and then placed the pliers on the zipper pull of his jacket.

“I believe this will be handy for a variety of tasks,” he said, lowering the zipper.

That certainly brought her out of her shadows. Ignoring her squeak of protest, Mac kissed one plump breast spilling over the top of the Atlantic-blue bra.

“Um… I don’t think… maybe you better not… ohhhh,” she moaned when he closed his mouth over her beaded nipple straining against the lace and gently suckled. “You really can’t do that,” she said in a strangled growl, grabbing his head and pushing him away. She immediately covered her breast, her other hand going to her belly. “Oh God, I think there’s a string that runs straight from my boobs to my womb.”

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” he said, instantly contrite.

She pressed her hands to his jaw, rubbing her thumb over his lip. “No, it’s okay. It’s just that my insides get all… when you… and I get…” She covered her face with her hands. “Ohmigod, this is embarrassing.”

“Then why did you wear only my jacket over your bra tonight?” he asked, zipping it up as far as he could, considering her hands were still hiding her face.

She snorted. “Because once again I didn’t think things through first.”

He shifted her facing forward to lean back against him, and stared out at the lake, content just to hold her.

“But I’ll bet
you’re
going to think twice before you dish out your next punishment to Henry,” she said, apparently unable to handle the silence.

At least she was including him in her conversation this time.

“Because,” she continued, “now you know that
you
have to serve the sentence right along with him. How did your gut do today, Mac?”

“I imagine it felt similar to how yours felt coming out of the doctor’s office.” He sighed. “By the gods, I don’t want to go through this again for a good thousand years.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “So stop encouraging Henry to question my authority, or I swear I will—”

“Don’t even think of threatening me,” she sputtered on a laugh. “Because I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve I could show that boy than you’ve got up yours, Mr. Abracadabra.” She grabbed his hands and slid them into the pockets of his jacket, then held them splayed over her belly. “Mmmm, the heat feels good. Trust me, Mac,” she continued, “your biggest fear should be if Henry
doesn’t
push your buttons occasionally. Do you want him to grow up to be a mouse or a lion?”

“Who’s asking this question: Olivia the tigress or Olivia the mouse who runs and hides from what she doesn’t want to deal with?” He kissed her cheek when she canted her head to frown up at him. “Or are you making sure he doesn’t repeat
your
childhood mistakes?”

“Hey, I pushed my share of buttons when I was a kid.” She turned back to face the lake. “I’ll have you know that when I was only ten years old, I ran off to Ezra and Doris’s house after my foster parents announced to me and Tommy, another kid they’d taken in, that they were having a baby of their own. I got grounded for four consecutive weekends for scaring the bejeezus out of everyone, because Ezra and Doris lived sixteen miles away and it took me two days to get there on foot.”

Mac nudged her to the side to see her face. “Ezra the store owner? You knew him before you moved here?”

She beamed him a smile and nodded. “He and Doris moved to Spellbound Falls about a month after I did. When they came up for my wedding, they instantly fell in love with the lake and the people here. Within two weeks they’d
bought the trading post and a house on Bent Mountain, and two weeks after that they were all moved in and running the store.” She suddenly turned sad. “Only a year ago this Memorial Day weekend Doris’s heart just quit and she died in her sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Mac said, nudging her back around as he frowned over her head. “So you knew Ezra and his wife from when you were a child? And they kept in touch with you all through the years?”

“The Dodds used to own the duplex where I lived with my mom, only they sold it about a month or so after she died. But in a funny coincidence, they ended up buying a house just two streets away from the foster home I went to live at. And after seeing me riding my bike one day, Doris came over with a bunch of fresh baked whoopie pies for me and the other girl living there. She told my foster mother she knew me quite well, and that she’d love to watch me and Susan if she ever needed a babysitter.”

Olivia turned and smiled up at him. “It’s strange how it kept working out, because I swear I ended up living less than twenty miles away from Ezra and Doris all the time I was growing up except for the two years I was in college. And then I always stayed with them during school breaks.” She turned back around with a snort. “They were more like my grandparents than my mom’s parents were. The Naglemeyers didn’t want anything to do with me. Hell, Doris made every birthday cake I ever had, and my real grandparents never even sent me a card. And Doris was my matron of honor at my wedding, and Ezra walked me down the aisle.”

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