Easy Magic (Boudreaux #5)

“Thanks to her,” I finish for him and shove my fingers through my hair.

“Stop overthinking it,” he says. “You’re the most analytical of my kids. You overthink everything, and on top of it all, you’re a control freak. That’s great with business, but not with love. She’s not a job, she’s a woman. You’re going to fuck up now and then, I can promise you that. She’ll get mad and maybe even hurt. But let me tell you something, Beau, loving her will be the best thing you ever do in your life. Regardless of all of my accomplishments while I was here, being married to your mother was the best part of me.”

“We knew it,” I reply gruffly. “And she knew it.”

“That’s how it should be. So, I’m going to remind you of something that I always told you kids—you can’t control the wind, but you can adjust your sails. That applies more in relationships than any other part of life, my boy. And while you didn’t exactly fall in love with a sailor, the metaphor still applies.”

We laugh together, and it feels so fucking good, I don’t want to let go of it. Not yet.

“She’s definitely not a sailor.” I smile, watching the man that I love so much and miss more than words can say. “Are you okay, Papa?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where you are. Are you safe? Are you happy?”

His hazel eyes soften. “You know, your Mallory asked her grandmother the same question when she saw her. You two are more alike than you think. I’m perfectly safe, and I’m happy for now. You mentioned that Mallory could help me move on, but I’m not ready. I’ll wait for my sweetie. And I hope she’s here with you for a very long time.”

“Me too,” I reply with a nod. “Will this be the last time I see you?”

He takes a deep breath and glances around at the tall oak trees, the early morning blue sky, and then back to me. “No, I’ll be around. But you don’t need to come to the cemetery to talk to me. It’s rather depressing, don’t you think?”

I laugh, a full belly laugh. “I guess it is. I wonder why people do that? Maybe it has something to do with seeing your name, and knowing you’re buried here.”

“But I’m not,” he says with a wink. “I’m not six feet under. I’m watching over my family.”

“Can I touch you?”

He holds his hand out. “Help an old man up off the ground.”

I take his hand, and it feels just as it did when he was living. Strong. I pull him up, and am immediately engulfed in his arms. My father was always a hugger, and I didn’t realize until just now how much I missed that.

“I’ve needed this,” I murmur as he pulls away.

“I know,” he says and pats my shoulder. “Now, go find your girl and make things right with her. I love you, Beau.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

***

I head back for the carriage house, hoping to find Mallory.

I’m not disappointed. I find her in the kitchen, arranging a bouquet of forget-me-nots in a vase.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hello,” she replies and smiles stiffly. “How was your chat?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think I have the words to describe it yet.”

She nods and sets the vase of flowers on the table. “I’ll take these up to Gabby before we leave so she and the guests can enjoy them.”

“It was nice of you to pick them.”

“I had to get some aggression out, and it turns out that ripping flowers from the earth is a pretty good way to do that.”

I prop my hands on my hips and watch as she turns to me, raises her chin, and squares her shoulders as if she’s getting ready to take a blow.

That’s my fault.

“I owe you an apology, Mallory.”

“I’d say you do,” she says with a nod. “So let’s hear it.”

I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her breathless, but instead I lean on the counter, bracing my hands at my hips, and start talking.

“It’s not that I didn’t believe you, Mal. How could I not believe you? Especially after last night. At first, I believed that you believed it. And that was good enough for me. You see, I’m an analytical man. I live in a world with absolutes. It’s either black or white; there is very little room for a grey area.

“And on top of that, I am a problem solver. Your gifts exhaust you, and sometimes they scare and hurt you, and there’s nothing I can do to help you. I’m not comfortable with that.”

“You do help me,” she says. “There’s a reason that I can’t read you, Beau. You ground me, and you are my safe place. I felt you with me last night when I was fighting the darkness, and it was you that pulled me back. I needed you. I don’t have to guard myself when I’m with you. I’m just a woman, not a psychic woman, when I’m with you. That is what you bring to my life, and that’s what you should be for me.”

“I’m learning that,” I reply. I can’t keep my hands off of her any more. I slowly cross to her and drag my knuckle down her cheek. “I’m sorry that I’ve been an idiot. I can’t promise that I’ll never be an idiot again, but I’ll never intentionally hurt you again.”

She grins, turns her lips to my palm, and kisses it. “Apology accepted. And I apologize too.”

“For what?”

“For making you feel like you were out of the loop. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I know.”

“You do?” She’s watching my lips now, and the mood has shifted from apprehensive to longing.

I want her.

I glide the pad of my thumb over her lower lip, then replace it with my own lips, sweeping back and forth, soaking in the taste of her. She anchors her hands at my sides, fisting my shirt as I devour her mouth.

“I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

“Good,” she mutters as I cup her ass and lift her to me. She wraps her legs around my waist and buries her face in my neck, kissing and biting. My semi-hard is a semi no more. I spin and set her on the countertop, spread her wide, and grind myself against her through my pants and her jeans.

“Need you.” My voice is gruff. She manages to shimmy out of her jeans and reaches for my pants as well. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

“That’s convenient,” she replies as her hands slide down my bare ass. “Have I mentioned that you have a great ass?”

“Not today.”

She bites her lower lip. “Great ass.”

“You have a phenomenal ass,” I reply as I nestle myself between her legs and just let my cock slip between her wet folds. “Gorgeous tits.” I suckle on one, and then the other. Her head falls back with a sigh of pleasure. “The softest skin I’ve ever seen.”

“Jojoba and melaleuca oils,” she mutters, making me grin.

“They work.”

“I know.” She gasps when I reach between us and lightly rub the tip of my cock over her clit. “You’re really talented with that.”

“It’s a multipurpose tool,” I reply and slip inside her. “Fucking hell, you’re wet, sugar.”

“Your fault,” she says with a gasp, arching her back. “You’re sexy.”