Easy Magic (Boudreaux #5)

Her face lights up. “I love your house.”


“I’d like for it to be our house.”

“Oh.” She takes a deep, cleansing breath. “Are you sure?”

“Never been more sure. You’re my home, too.”

She swallows and nods. “I’d like that. But do I have to help in the garden?”

“No, baby, we want to eat the vegetables. Not kill them.”

***

She slept like a baby all night, wrapped around me. I didn’t sleep a wink; instead I held her, enjoying the warmth of her, the smell of her hair, and the sweet way she would drag her hand up and down my side.

I couldn’t get the image of the look on her face as she stood behind the inn, fighting a force I couldn’t see out of my head. I’m not comfortable with the thought of not being able to protect her from everything.

I love her.

But I’m used to handling, well, everything.

Not that a woman is something to be handled. My mama would have my hide if she heard me say something like that.

As soon as I see dawn break, I untangle myself from Mallory’s grasp, pull on yesterday’s clothes, and walk out to the cemetery.

I haven’t been to this spot since my dad passed away. There was never a need.

But I could sure use his advice now.

“You died too soon,” I murmur and sit on the bench directly across from his headstone. “Although, any time would have been too soon.”

It’s quiet today. The sky is clear and full of pink and purple with the rising sun.

“I don’t know what to do about her.”

And I’m not even entirely sure what I’m hung up about. I’ve asked her to move in with me for Christ’s sake. It’s not like I want to break it off.

Absolutely not.

But I’m unsettled.

Am I such a control freak that being with a woman who doesn’t need me all the time emasculates me?

I wouldn’t think so. I love that she’s strong and independent.

And what in the ever-loving hell am I doing at my father’s grave? It’s not like I can see the dead. That’s Mallory’s gig.

I wonder if she’s seen him?

That’s an unsettling thought.

I rub my hand over my face and stand to leave. There aren’t any answers here.

“Hi,” Mallory says with a smile, surprising me.

“Well, hi. Did I wake you?”

“No.” She looks at the headstone, then at me. “I have someone with me who would love to talk with you.”

I cock a brow and glance around, but there’s no one else here.

“Who would that be?”

She looks to her left, just a few feet from where I am, and nods.

“Your father.”

“That’s impossible,” I reply. “My father is dead.”

She sighs and shakes her head, her eyes filled with sadness. “You don’t believe, Beau. You don’t believe at all.”

“Mal—”

“Just hold your coin and think of your dad. Then come find me when you have your stuff all figured out.”

She turns to leave and I want to follow her, but instead I push my hand into my pocket and find the coin I always carry. You would think that as often as I hold it, I would wear it down.

“You always were the most stubborn child of mine.”

My head whips up at the sound of the voice I’ll never forget. “Holy shit.”

“Indeed.”





Chapter Nineteen


Beau

“What’s eating at you, son?” my father asks, and I have to take a deep breath, shake my head, and rub my fingers over the coin in my pocket, not entirely sure that I’m not drunk.

Or asleep.

“Are you not speaking to me?” he asks with a grin.

“I’m not sure that you’re really here,” I reply.

“I’m here,” he says and sits on the ground at his headstone, leaning against it. He’s wearing his favorite old jeans and Tulane University sweatshirt. And he’s so real, I could reach out and touch him. “And I know you. You’re pissed.”

“I am not,” I reply and sit on the bench across from him. “Why would I be pissed?”

“Because you’ve come across something that you can’t fix or manipulate.” He shrugs. “I understand. I was the same way. It was my job to make sure that your mother and you kids were safe, and to provide for you all.”

“You always did that,” I reply.

“There were moments that baffled me, Beau. I’m a man, as are you. You’re a powerful man, with an infinite number of resources at your fingertips, but there will be moments that baffle you, too. Because you’re a man.”

“I’m supposed to be the head of our company, and our family.”

“Which you’re doing a damn good job of,” he says, and I just go still. I’m dumbfounded, and not embarrassed to feel my eyes fill with tears. “Do you assume that I’d think differently?”

“No, I’ve just wondered, since you passed, if you could see what Van, Eli, and I were doing with the company, and if you would approve.”

“I’m so damn proud of the three of you, Beau. Of all of my children. You’re intelligent, happy, successful people. I don’t go into the office often, I’ll be honest. A man should enjoy his retirement.”

I can’t help but chuckle and shake my head. “My God, you’re really here.”

“I’m always around.” He tilts his head to the side. “I like to stick close to your mama. Not because she needs me, but because she’s my heart, and by her side is where I’m supposed to be. But I check in with all of you from time to time.”

“Have you talked with Mallory?”

He smiles brightly now and nods. “She’s a sweet girl, your Mallory.”

“She is,” I agree, thinking of her kind smile, her gentleness.

“And she concerns you,” he adds.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling,” I reply and rub my hand over my face. “And this is new to me.”

“Well, that’s love for you, son,” he says and slaps his knee with a laugh. “You’re going on forty years old, and you’re just now finding it.”

“I’m only thirty-seven,” I reply. “And finding love was never at the top of my priority list.”

“That was my fault,” he says. “I pushed the business too hard—”

“No, you didn’t,” I interrupt. “I loved it. I still do. I don’t regret one minute that I spent with you in the office. You taught me more than I ever learned in college. I just wish that you were still here so I could still call you with questions.” I swallow hard. “I miss you, Dad.”

“I know,” he says. “I miss all of you, too. I can see you, but I can’t always speak with you, and that hurts. But I’m here, Beau. I’ll be here for quite some time yet.”

“Mallory could help you, if you wanted to move on.”

To my surprise, he just shakes his head, but then smiles widely. “You do believe her.”

“Well, she’s not crazy. Of course I believe her. But, I’m a black and white kind of man. I don’t live in the grey area of life, and if I can’t see it with my own eyes, well, I find it hard to buy into.”

“And yet, here I am.”