Tug of Attraction (8 page)

“We can hope.”

“Do you want to meet in Market Square? Say at one o’clock?”

“Sure. I’ll be the one with the pink cashmere sweater, holding a picnic basket.”

He chuckled. “I’d know you if you were wearing nothing but the basket.”

They rang off and Brigit hopped out of bed. For some reason, even though he hadn’t agreed to her terms, she felt like they were getting closer. They were certainly growing closer as friends. She found herself thinking about him in spicier terms too...and liking it.

* * * *

A
t exactly one o’clock Ethan strolled into Market Square. Brigit sat on one of the benches chatting to a woman with a covered stroller.

Every time he looked at her she was always beautiful, but today she showed a sad kind of beauty he hadn’t noticed lately. Maybe it was just the wistful way she watched the stroller glide back and forth as the woman was lulling the child.

He tucked his hands in his pockets and approached slowly.

The mother spotted him first. “Oh, this must be your friend.”

“Yes.” Brigit gave him a welcoming smile. “Well, it was nice chatting with you.” She rose and gave Ethan a kiss on the cheek. “Hi, you.”

“Hi yourself. Are you ready to go exploring?”

She picked up the basket and said, “Lead the way.”

He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her down the street. They walked in silence toward a small marina.

Glancing over at her he asked, “So far, so good?”

“All clear of spirit entities.”

“Good. There are benches with chess tables built in over here. Do you play?”

“No, but I remember how to play checkers—I think.”

“Been a while?”

“Yeah. I used to play against my grandfather. I rarely won. I hope you didn’t come with chess pieces in your pocket.”

He laughed. “I’m prepared for a lot, but not everything.”

“This is a pretty spot. Any chance you’d be comfortable sitting on the dock itself, dangling our feet over the water?”

He smirked at her. “Really?”

She laughed. “Oh yeah. Look who I’m talking to—a tug boat captain.”

He held her hand and guided her to the dock and let her set out the spread she’d brought. She went all out. Checkered table cloth, club sandwiches, deviled eggs, two bags of chips, a pitcher of what looked like iced tea and a couple of metal tumblers. A chilly breeze blew off the water at the same time the sun hid behind a cloud and she shivered.

“Cold?” He was already removing his all-weather jacket.

“No. I’m fine.” The sun emerged. “Really. The sun feels good soaking into my skin.”

He suddenly envied the sun, wishing he could caress her arms, shoulders and back. “Yeah, but it won’t be warm for long. Fall is in the air. The leaves are turning and Samhain will be here before you know it.”

“I know. I hate to admit it, but I enjoy Halloween as much as our Samhain traditions. If the Judeo-Christians realized what a solemn holiday it was for us, they’d be disappointed.”

“How will you handle that when your child wants to trick or treat?”

She smiled. “I don’t see any reason he or she can’t celebrate costumes and candy once a year and honor our ancestors too.”

She gazed at him for a few reflective seconds. Finally Brigit grinned. “You said, ‘when’ and ‘your’.”

“What?”

“You said
when your
child wants to trick or treat.”

“Ah. So you figure you’ve slowly seduced me to the dark side.”

The grin disappeared. “No. There’s no dark side. I’m just happy you’re finally seeing it from
my
side.”

“I guess I’ve always been able to see your side, Bridge. I just hadn’t realized how committed you were to the idea.”

“I was straight with you from the very beginning.”

“Yes, you were. In a way, it was refreshing.”

Her lips were parted slightly and she was gazing up at him. For some reason, he felt drawn to kiss her.
What the hell. If she pulls away, that says something too.

He kneeled in front of her, so the tablecloth wasn’t between them. Then he swooped in and touched his lips to hers, gently. She didn’t recoil. He added more pressure, and to his delighted surprise, she was kissing him back. He angled his head and opened his mouth to see if she’d accept his tongue. She sought his. He curled his arm around her and pulled her closer. Slipping her arms around his neck, she rose onto her knees and melded against him.

After a long languorous kiss, he reluctantly let her pull away. “That was nice. I wasn’t sure you’d let me kiss you.”

“Ethan.” She chided “If I want you to fuck me, why wouldn’t I let you kiss me?”

And the romantic moment is gone.

He reached for a sandwich and settled beside her. “Brigit, would you mind using the term “make love” instead of fuck?”

She unwrapped her sandwich and seemed to be thinking about it. “You’re a dude. I thought you all said fuck.”

“When all we’re talking about is the act.” He added, “Don’t all children deserve to be conceived in love?”

“Are you serious?” She stared at him incredulously. “That’s a nice thought, but it’s not reality.”

“I didn’t say it was. I just asked if they didn’t
deserve
that.”

She chewed as he waited for an answer. At last, she nodded. “Yes, but don’t you agree that sometimes the love is between the couple? The child who isn’t wanted is at a distinct disadvantage. Besides, our child
would be
conceived in love.”

He leaned back and stared at her. “Are you saying you love me?”

“Of course, I love you—as a friend and fellow coven member.”

Ethan groaned. “Great. Friend zone, then.”

“No,” she protested. “It’s more than that.”

“What exactly?”

“I don’t know if I can put it into words.”

“Try.”

She inhaled deeply. “Okay. I’m not stringing you along to feed my ego like a high school girl who knows a guy has a crush on her. I respect you. I like you for who you are. I enjoy your company. We’re more than friends. We’re comrades in a coven of shared beliefs and values. We have more in common and know each other on a deeper level than many lovers who’ve been together for years.”

He mulled that over while he enjoyed his sandwich, wondering if what she described was a love he could accept with the limitations she wanted to impose. 

By the time lunch was finished, he’d made a decision.

“Brigit. I’ll help you, but I’m not signing that damned contract.”

She gasped. “You will? I mean, you’ll give me the baby I want with the limitations I asked for, but we’ll do it with a handshake or something?”

He gazed out to sea. “Or something. I had a second lawyer look at the contract and he laughed. He said it would never stand up in a court of law. No judge in the country will make it okay for a father to shirk child support.”

“So I got rooked out of $200.00?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“But...you’ll still help me?”

“We need to hammer out some details.”

“I already did that. Everything is spelled out in the contract. If it’s an agreement between you and me and no one else knows, you won’t be responsible. You haven’t talked to anyone other than the lawyers have you?”

“Not directly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I posed the hypothetical question to Dru and Keith, but they both guessed it was you who asked me to do it.”

“Damn.” She bit her lower lip. “But they’d never turn you in to the police or court system or anything.”

“Probably not, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have an attack of conscience and turn myself in.”

She leaned back and stared at him like he’d gone mad. Maybe he had.

B
rigit entered Myranda’s occult shop, which stood on a busy street corner in Portsmouth. A young lady she hadn’t met rang up a customer at the cash register, while various browsers filled the rest of the store. Yvonne looked over from one of the display cases and waved to her.

“Hey, Brigit. Are you here to pick up the donations for the animal shelter?”

“Yes, and I was wondering if Myranda might have time for a reading.”

“She’s already with someone, but if you want to hang around...”

Brigit shrugged. “Sure. I’m not in a hurry.”

She became one of the browsers and noticed some new items. She leaned in close to admire one of the wire wrapped pendants. It was a large moonstone cabochon with intricate silver curlicues gently holding it in place. 

“Would you like to try that on?” Yvonne asked.

“No. I’m trying to save some money. I have to get used to going without pretty things.”

“Awww...” Yvonne crooned. “I hope whatever you’re saving for is worth it. I’m no good at delaying gratification.” She flashed her hands sporting about ten silver rings. “See?”

One of the rings caught Brigit’s eye. “Oh! What a gorgeous amethyst.”

Yvonne slipped it off her middle finger. “Here. Try it on.”

“No. It’s yours. I shouldn’t.”

Yvonne smiled. “Actually, there’s another one very much like it. The same designer made them both.” She opened the cabinet in front of her and pulled a ring display from the bottom shelf, then set it on the glass top.

Brigit spotted the ring she was referring to immediately. It was slightly larger than the one Yvonne wore. “It’s beautiful, but you’re evil for tempting me.”

“Evil!” Yvonne slapped her chest as if shot in the heart. “I’m no such thing. We have layaway.”

Brigit chuckled. “What the heck. There’s no harm in trying things on, right?”

“None at all.” Yvonne took the amethyst from the velvet box and handed it to her.

Brigit slipped it onto her ring finger and it fit perfectly. She extended her hand at arm’s length and admired the gem.

“It’s breathtaking on you. It almost matches your eyes. Purple is just about the best color for brunettes. Are you a February baby by any chance?”

“No. It’s not my birthstone. I was born in late June.” She peeked at the price tag and squeaked, “Yikes. I can’t afford it anyway.”

“Even with layaway?”

“Can you take a couple of dollars a week for five years?”

“Probably not.”

“Then we’re done here.” She handed back the ring with a sigh.

A woman emerged from the reading room followed by Myranda.

“Ah. Saved by the psychic.”

Myranda strode over to Brigit and gave her a hug. “What am I saving you from?”

“Myself—and your evil temptress saleswoman here.”

Myranda grinned. “She works here for a reason, honey.”

“Yeah. I get that. Do you have time for a quick reading?”

“What? Like ten minutes?”

“That should be enough. I just have one concern, but I’d rather not explain what it is.”

“No problem. Come with me.”

Brigit followed her to the reading room. A moment before she entered, she glanced over her shoulder at Yvonne. A pang of loss followed as she watched the ring disappear back into the display case.
Oh well. There will be many more sacrifices if my attempt to get pregnant is successful.

Myranda scooted into her chair behind the small table while Brigit sat on the vacant chair closest to her.

“So, what shall it be? Tarot cards? Crystal ball?” Myranda asked.

“Whatever you’re most comfortable with.” Brigit began feeling a little nervous.

“Okay. Think about a question you want answered while I get my crystal ball. I haven’t performed a scrying for a while, and I like to stay in practice.”

“Sure.” Brigit thought about it, but exactly what did she want to know? “Is it okay if the question is a little nebulous?”

Myranda rolled her eyes and set her crystal ball on the table between them. “Oh, that’s a great start. Why don’t I give you another minute?”

Brigit mentally wrestled with the wording.
Will Ethan honor the terms of the contract? Will I ultimately achieve my goal of independent motherhood?
How specific or general did she want to be? After considering both ideas, she decided to be specific. The spells they cast were supposed to be specific to avoid any misunderstanding between the witch and the powers-that-be. So should the question be with the psychic.

“Okay. I have my question.”

“Share it.”

Could she ask it in a way that would withhold the details from Myranda, but still be specific enough for the Goddess?

“Yes. I want to know if the details in the contract I recently drew up will be honored.”

Myranda closed her eyes, took a few deep, cleansing breaths, and then concentrated on the crystal ball. She didn’t say anything for several long moments. Brigit wondered if she was getting any information at all.

At last she said, “I don’t see a contract. I see you on a narrow path. Do you understand that?”

“I think so.” 

“There’s a sharp turn on this path. I see you struggling to go forward, but there are brambles and a lot of overgrowth that way. Does that make sense?”

Brigit’s brow furrowed. “Unfortunately, I think it does. So, you’re saying the path I’m on won’t be successful?”

“I didn’t say that. If you go, follow where the path leads, I think you’ll ultimately get what you want. It just may not be the way you want it. You’re going to have to make a decision.”

“Oh, crap.”

Myranda chuckled. “Sorry about that. I just share what I see.”

“I know. I want you to be honest.”

“Good, because I honestly think your stubbornness leads to hardship. You might ultimately get to your goal, but it won’t be pleasant.”

Brigit let out a long sigh. “Frig.”

“Don’t blame the Goddess Frig just because it’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“Do you see anything else?”

Myranda returned her gaze to the crystal ball. Again she didn’t say anything for quite a while. Brigit was tempted to drum her fingers on the table, but she didn’t want to interrupt the psychic’s trance.

At last Myranda spoke in a voice that sounded a little deeper than usual. “The path’s direction is laid out as it’s meant to be. Honor that.”

She waited for something more. Myranda closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.