Easy Magic (Boudreaux #5)

But I’m not upset. I like the sunshine and the sunflowers. The breeze. And the gentle hands in my hair. They’re braiding it now. Suddenly, a big tractor comes roaring into the field, cutting down all of the flowers.

“Stop!” I yell. I want to stand up and run over to them, and beg them to stop cutting the flowers.

But I can’t move. All I can do is watch the beautiful blooms topple under the tractor and feel the hands in my hair.

“I don’t want the flowers to die,” I whisper and feel a tear fall down my cheek. “Why is he doing this?”

“Because it’s time to reap what he sowed,” my grandmother’s voice says. “He’s going to make many people very happy with those blooms.”

“But I like them where they are.”

She chuckles and smooths the braid on the side of my head.

“It’s not always just about us,” she says, just as she did many times while I was growing up. “Don’t you want him to help others feel better too?”

“I guess.” I tilt my head back so I can feel the sunshine on my face. “You never visit me.”

“I do, you just can’t see me,” she says. I can hear the smile in her voice. My Grandmamma had a beautiful smile.

I often see it in my own when I look in the mirror.

“When will I get to see you?”

“When the time is right. You’re getting closer. And just like that tractor took away your flowers, you may need to lose your Beau when the time arrives.”

“What?” I frown, suddenly remembering Beau. “Why would I lose him?”

“You’ll see.”

I try to shake my head, to turn around and see her, but I can’t.

“Why does the future always have to be so scary? Why can’t you just tell me that everything will work out in the end?”

“Well, that’s a given, love. It will work out in the end, it just may not be what you expect it to be.”

Clouds have begun to form over us, blocking the sun and making me cold.

“I’ve waited a long time to hear from you.”

“I know. I’ve been here, sweet girl. And I’ll continue to be here. You’ll see me when you need me the most.”

“It’s not good enough,” I whisper, just as the hands in my hair stop. “Are you safe? Are you happy? Is your pain gone?” I let the questions tumble from my lips.

“Yes to all of those,” she says. “But I worry for you. Death doesn’t change that. And it certainly doesn’t take away my love for you.”

“I love you too.” She rests her hand on my shoulder, and I can finally move well enough to cover it with mine. “Please don’t go.”

“I’ll be here,” she says again and begins to pull the braid free, her fingers brushing through it, the same way she did when I was young.



“Good morning,” Beau whispers in my ear. His fingers are in my hair, brushing it. “Did you get up and braid your hair while I was asleep?”

I open my eyes and reach up, feeling the last of the braid at the top of my head, and smile.

“Something like that.”





Chapter Seven


Mallory

I rest my head on Beau’s chest and sigh, happy that not only did I dream about Grandmamma, but I can remember it. Her voice and her touch are two things I’ve missed very much.

Part of our conversation is starting to slip away. It made me nervous, and I’m not sure why.

“What are you thinking about?” Beau asks softly. His fingertips are making lazy circles on my back, over my tank top.

“I dreamt of my grandmother,” I reply. “I rarely do that, so it was nice.”

“How long has she been gone?”

I frown and hold onto him more tightly. I don’t like to talk about her being gone, and I’ve never told anyone how she died.

“Since I was a teenager,” I reply.

“Are your parents still with us?” I’m relieved he doesn’t ask more about Grandmamma.

“No.” He rolls me onto my back and props his head on his elbow, looking down into my face.

“What happened to them?”

“They were in an accident,” I reply. “I was very little, around three years old. I was staying with Grandmamma at her house in the Bayou, and they had taken my little brother into the city to see the doctor. It was stormy, there was flooding in some places. They probably shouldn’t have gone, but he was very sick.

“On the way back to get me, they were in a head-on collision.”

“Ah, baby, I’m so sorry.” He cups my cheek gently.

I shrug. “I don’t remember it. I don’t see them, any of them. I never have. They just sort of disappeared from my life. So, I always thought I had it easy because I just didn’t remember. My Grandmamma was devastated. She’d been widowed the year before, and then lost the rest of her family so suddenly.”

“So it was just the two of you.”

“Well, yes, but we also had Lena and her grandmother, Miss Sophia.”

“Are Lena’s parents also gone?” His brows raise in surprise.

“It’s strange, but yes. Not in the same way. Miss Sophia has raised Lena as her own since she was born. Lena’s mother was a junkie, an all-around lost person. She never knew how to handle her gifts, and so she rebelled, ended up pregnant with Lena.

“Miss Sophia talked her into not having an abortion, and the day after Lena was born, she left and never came back. No one knows who her father might be.”

“I’m sorry,” he says with a frown.

“Don’t be.” I smile and cup his cheek, letting my thumb brush over the light stubble there. “Lena is happy and healthy, and they’re my family.”

He takes my hand in his before I can pull it away and kisses my palm, sending shivers up my arm and into my back. Not to mention the tingles happening between my legs.

I slide my leg between his, loving the feel of his hair against my smooth skin. He kisses my palm again and leans over me farther, pinning my hand to the bed next to my head and leans in to kiss the ever-loving hell out of me.

He’s lazy about it. His lips are soft, moving over my lips, my cheek and jawline, then finding my lips again. My leg is brushing up and down the outside of his, and his impressive erection is pressed into my hip.

Holy fucking shit, he’s impressive.

“I’m going to take this shirt off of you,” he murmurs into my ear and kisses my earlobe, then drags his teeth down it.

“Good idea.”

I feel him smile against my neck, then he rears back and quickly discards the shirt, throwing it aside, and lets his gaze rake over my naked torso.

My nipples are puckered from lust and now the cool air. I’m a curvy woman, with heavy breasts that threaten to fall to my sides when I’m on my back, and he doesn’t seem to mind in the least. He grazes his knuckles gently over the puckered nubs, then leans in and kisses them, sucking them into his mouth and my back arches off the bed.

He pushes his leg snugly against my core, and I rub against him, searching for more… More of him.

God, I’ve never wanted a man so badly in my life!

“You’re beautiful,” he says, brushing my hair off my cheek. His whiskey eyes are shining as he cups my breast and teases the nipple again, gently rolling it between his fingers. “You have the softest skin.”

I can’t speak. My back arches off the bed again, and he replaces the leg between my legs with his hand.