Easy Magic (Boudreaux #5)

I roll my eyes and reply: Because my brain won’t shut up.

But my eyes are starting to get heavy.

I’m coming into the shop tomorrow to help you out. Lena’s the best friend a girl can have. Rather than text, I just call her back.

“Hi,” she whispers.

“Why are you whispering?”

“No reason.”

I narrow my eyes. “Is there someone there with you?”

“If I say no, will you believe me?”

“Lena! Who is it?”

“You don’t know him,” she says and I can hear her walking now, presumably out of her bedroom so she doesn’t wake up the dude she’s banging.

“Well, now I know why you’re not asleep.” My voice is dry.

“I could feel you awake,” she says. “And just because you don’t like sex, doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t.”

“I like it,” I reply and wrinkle my nose. “If they’d stop thinking while we’re doing it I’d like it better.”

“I know,” she says softly. Lena isn’t as psychically strong as I am, but she can block emotions and thoughts from others.

I can if I’m not physically touching them. But once there is contact, I can’t block thoughts or feelings.

Which is why Beau intrigues me so.

“Did you get all the water out of the store?” She asks, crunching on something in my ear.

“Yeah, and I have fans going tonight to try to dry it all. What a mess.”

“What time do you want me there tomorrow?”

“You don’t have to come at all,” I reply honestly.

“I want to hang out with you. I feel like I don’t see you enough.”

I smile. “Well, that sounds like a good plan.”

“Great. So what time?”

“Ten? I open late on Sundays.”

“Works for me. I will want to hear all about Beau.”

I roll my eyes again and sigh, regretting immediately that I told her via text earlier today that he had helped me.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Now, I know that’s not true.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Be ready to spill it. I’m bringing my tarot cards too.”

“No.”

“Yes. Love you. Goodnight.”

“Use protection,” I reply and hang up to the sound of her laugh.

***

I yawn and scratch the side of my head as I unlock the shop and step inside, relieved to see that the floor is, indeed, mostly dry. I can open up later and work inside today.

I’m here an hour before Lena so I can do some paperwork and pay some bills, all tasks that I save for Sunday mornings. It’s quiet here, and I just like to be home.

After the bills are paid, and my spreadsheets are caught up, I stretch and change from my lounge wear—yoga pants and a T-shirt—into a flowy, purple skirt and black peasant blouse. My hair gets a good brushing, and I twist it up in a simple knot.

Lena walks in, using her key, just as I’m finishing my makeup.

“Good morning,” she says and passes me one of the two coffees she’s carrying.

“Bless you,” I say and take a drink, then notice the white paper sack she’s tucked under her arm. “Are those what I think they are?”

“If you think they’re beignets, yes.”

I reach for them, but she slaps my hand.

“Hey!”

“You’re so grabby,” she says with a scowl.

“You better plan to share those.”

“I do, but only if you spill the beans about Mr. Boudreaux.” She smirks, her blue eyes shining.

“Fine. Gimme.” She hands the bag over, and each of us retrieves a hot, powdered sugar covered piece of heaven.

“Jesus, they’re always better than I remember them being,” she says with a sigh.

“I know.” I sit at my desk and Lena sits across from me, where Beau sat last night. Her eyes widen.

“What?”

“He sat here,” she says and narrows her eyes like she’s listening to something. “He likes you.”

“You can read him?” I ask, shocked.

“His energy is strong,” she says with a nod. “I may not be as strong as you, but even I can sense that much.”

I take another bite, completely confused.

“Mal?”

“Yeah?”

“Look at me.”

I comply and she slowly shakes her head from side to side. “You can’t read him, can you?”

“No, and I don’t know why!” I sit back in frustration and chew my food. “I can see the emotion in his eyes, but when he touches me? Nothing.”

“At all?”

“Nada. Zip. It’s like he’s emotionless.”

“Well, he’s not that,” she says and takes a sip of her coffee. “There’s enough residual energy here to light the place up.”

“No way.” I shake my head.

“So you feel nothing when he touches you?”

“I didn’t say that,” I reply and bite my lip. “I can’t read his emotions. I just feel calm.”

“But you’re attracted to him.”

It’s not a question.

“I mean, he’s attractive. And I’m female. So, it makes sense that I would be attracted to him.”

“Most stubborn person I know,” she mutters and tosses her empty coffee cup into the wastebasket. “Do you want to rip his clothes off and let him fuck you on this desk?”

“That’s pretty specific,” I say, not at all turned off at the prospect. “Wait. Was he thinking that last night?”

She simply smiles. “He’s into you.”

“I don’t know why,” I reply.

“I don’t have to read minds to tell you why,” Lena says. “Because you’re beautiful and smart and funny.”

“Oh, yes. That’s why.” I laugh. “Beau is in a completely different league.”

“What league would that be?” the man himself says from the doorway, startling us both.

I didn’t feel him come in.

My God, what’s wrong with me?

“How did you get in?” I ask and then I can’t speak at all. He’s shirtless, again, and he’s panting; sweat is streaked down his face and chest.

Fucking hell, I want to devour him. On this desk.

“I didn’t lock the door behind me,” Lena says with a smile and stands to face Beau. “Good morning. I’m Lena, Mal’s BFF.”

“Pleasure,” he says and shakes her hand. “I’m—”

“I know,” she replies with a grin. “You’re Beau. I’m going to go take a look at that water damage.”

And with that, she’s gone, and I’m left holding a cold beignet, staring at the sexiest man alive.

Half naked.

With sweat.

My eyes are pinned to his chest because I can’t look away. His abs are just stupid, they’re so hot. I didn’t think abs like that really existed. Certainly not with the V at the hips. But it’s no myth. I’m staring right at him.

“Mallory?”

My eyes find his, and he’s smiling, his whiskey eyes pinned to my face.

“Yeah?”

“I’m up here.”

I roll my eyes and set the beignet down. “I wasn’t staring at your chest.”

“Sure.”

“I wasn’t,” I insist.

“You know, I’ve never been on this end of this conversation before.”

I can’t help but laugh and shake my head, brushing sugar from my fingers.

“How can I help you?” I ask.

“I wanted to stop in to see how things are today.”