Page 79 of Clearly Charmed

I was so wrong. That ache in my chest to be near him only bloomed wilder as the lull of sleep softened the lines around his eyes and mouth.

When I’d driven to the cabin last night, I’d known what I was doing. That the hunger and ache in his eyes mirrored mine. It was crossing that final line. Making a choice I could never take back. But after yesterday, the way he held me tightly after I’d made it back onto solid ground, tenderly touched me when he removed the dirt and gravel from my hair, said what was happening between us was much more than a game of cat-and-mouse… I’d never expected this. Expected him. For so long I’d believed I’d always be alone, but now there was this undeniable want. A thing I was too afraid to say out loud, to imagine for too long: hope.

My stomach gurgled. We’d talked several times about dinner last night, but every time we tried to make it out of the bedroom, one of us would pull the other back, and we ended up burying ourselves back in the shelter of each other’s arms and the mounds of blankets on the bed.

I stretched and the scrapes on my arms and back protested. What I’d done yesterday on the ridge was stupid. Reckless. But I wouldn’t change anything, because this morning Mara and Banjo were waking up safe in their own home.

Bryce let out a contented sigh. For a moment I thought about climbing back in next to him. Shutting out the world for a few more blissful minutes, but my mind never worked that way. As soon as I was conscious, my brain began dissecting last night, not just the amazing sex, but the way we had to carefully navigate our way out of the bathroom to keep from stepping on the shards of glass from the broken light bulbs.

Bryce insisted it was the old cabin. That his mother had warned him the wiring and plumbing were ancient, but the way the electricity flared as blood raced in my veins last night, I couldn’t help but worry that it was much more than that.

All my life I’d sworn none of the McGuire women had magic, but I was beginning to question those beliefs. I needed to see the lights again. Examine the way they’d exploded. I convinced myself that if I could understand their breaking point, it would assure me that the reason they blasted apart had nothing to do with the supernatural.

After picking up my jeans and shirt off a nearby chair, I inched out the door. Flora snoozed next to Indy a few feet away. I tiptoed down the hall, sliding on my clothes and trying not to groan at the material scratching across my raw skin.

Across the hall from the bathroom was a small den, and curiosity had me peeking inside. The walls were covered in black-and-white photos. Some were landscapes. Others were candid shots of the ski mountain over the years. Children gripped old rope tows. A couple snuggled on a metal chair lift, their old wooden skis dangling in the air.

I moved in closer to the small rounded-edge desk in the center of the room. The screen on Bryce’s laptop showed an aerial photo of Los Angeles at twilight. The compact streets and serpentine swirl of homes and businesses reflected below. A small leather notebook sat open next to the laptop. Every instinct inside me screamed I should walk out of the room, but I had to remember my vow to my sisters. To Clo. To make sure that the article wouldn’t tear our lives apart like last time. I leaned in and scanned his cramped handwriting.

I followed the women up the switchback paths. There was an unmistakable link between them. An unspoken language that relied on their connection. Lia could read the path. Her elite sense of hearing guided them forward. The youngest sister, Aster, has a unique level of sight, clocking the shifting trees, broken branches. And then there’s Dani. Animals sensed her presence. Rabbits scampered out of burrows, colorful birds hopped across tree branches, deer inched out of deep green blinds to be near her. As the rest of the team continued to look for the young girl, Dani understood how to find her. She hid it from me, the rest of the crew, but she’d sensed Banjo’s presence the same way she’d sensed Indy’s illness. There is much more here than the three women claim. On that trail today, I felt it: the vibration of an unseen force, the strength of an unyielding power. I will not give up until I get to the truth about this town and what the McGuire women are hiding. More research needs to be done on Ambrosia Perkins and the earlier ancestors.

A raw dryness coated my throat as I turned the page. Boxes and connecting lines filled the entire paper. A genealogical chart connected my family line, starting with Sylvia and Ambrosia and leading all the way to me, Lia and Aster. Under some of the names were small scribbles indicating fire, water, earth, animals, sight. Each notation attached to only the females in the family line.

A tidal wave of dread crashed over me. Threatened to pull me under. Had he written this yesterday when he came home? Or even last night, while I was asleep? Right after he’d whispered all those promises and then taken me to bed?

Underneath the notebook was a file folder. I flipped it open and my world tilted. At least a dozen photos spilled out across the desk. Candid shots taken with what appeared to be a telephoto lens. The first image nearly stopped my heart: me on the street near the pharmacy. The next two photos made bile rise in my throat. Lia in front of the firehouse. Aster talking to a customer inside her shop.

What the hell? Was he stalking us?

I’d made a huge mistake allowing him on the search yesterday. Letting him into our lives at all. He was desperate for a story, and exposing what he believed about my family was the only way to make that happen.

I fled the room and grabbed the rest of my clothes. Tugged on my shoes and picked up my bag. With a low command, I called for Flora and she followed me out the door. I put my truck in neutral and rolled backward. At the edge of the driveway, I turned on the engine and drove away. My thoughts muddied as I navigated my truck down the mountain. A sob jammed its way into my throat. Had the kiss – the sex – been a means to an end for him?

It was too much like Max. How I’d been so sure he’d cared about me, until he walked straight out the door. Bryce wasn’t any different. He’d get what he needed by any means necessary and then leave.

Maybe all this time Belladonna had been right. No man could be trusted.

I steered the truck in a familiar direction. My grandmother was the only one who would know how to clean up the mess I’d made.

Clo sat in the rocking chair Grandpa Beau had made especially for her. It was all smooth lines and rounded arms. The height and width were a perfect fit for her tiny body.

I should not have been surprised to find her out on the deck. Waiting. Like she knew I was coming. I pulled open the front door and ascended the stairs with Flora close behind. As soon as I was out the deck’s screen door, she had me wrapped in her arms. My tears fell in a flood and she didn’t say a word.

She was not a ‘touchy-feely’ kind of grandmother, but she knew when the weight of the world was too much for each of us girls to bear.

When my shoulders stopped heaving, and the waterworks slowed to a trickle, she stepped back and held me at arm’s length. ‘I think you might have kept your enemy a bit too close.’

‘You think?’ I said with a rough laugh.

‘Sit down and tell me about it.’

I sank into the wooden chair beside her. Another one of Grandpa Beau’s creations that reminded me of a Stickley. Flora wandered to a shady spot on the deck and lay down. ‘I’ve screwed everything up. Badly.’

She tugged her long white braid over her shoulder, fiddling with the tie at the end. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘I thought I was distracting Bryce. That I could stay on top of this. Prevent him from writing anything wild about us.’

‘And now?’