Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
“Ta-da! Is this your card?” She held out the card to Grandpa Jack triumphantly.
“Nope.”
“What?” She stared at him, crestfallen. “It has to be.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, it’s not.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you just forgot what card you chose.”
“Girly, I chose the five of hearts and that’s the queen. It’s not my card.”
“Drat!” What was she doing wrong?
“Never mind,” Stafford said gently. “Have you got another magic trick to show us, Brilliant Blakely?”
Except she hadn’t been that brilliant, had she? Because none of her tricks were darn well working. What was she doing wrong?
“All right, for this next trick, I’m going to need my magic wand.” She turned around and set up the floating pencil trick. It couldn’t go wrong. Even she could do it. Grabbing her wand, she turned back, holding the pencil in her fist.
“Abadabadodo! Make this pencil float in the air!”
“Abadabadodo?” Grandpa Jack repeated, sounding skeptical.
“Shh,” Stafford hushed him as she undid her fist and the pencil floated in the air.
Well, it should have. Instead, it slipped free and fell on the floor.
“Oh, witches and wizards! That wasn’t supposed to happen!”
“Well, good try, darlin’,” Stafford told her.
Hmm.
“I thought that was a really good magic show,” he added.
“Are you kidding?” Jack said. “That was terrible.”
Oh God.
He was right. It was terrible.
“Grandpa!” Stafford chided. “You can’t say that. Blakely, he didn’t mean it.”
“I did mean it and now I’ve got to go have my nightcap. Girly, you need to practice.”
Stafford stood and helped his grandfather up. Then he turned to her, his face filled with chagrin and concern. “Blakely, I’m so sorry. You know how Grandpa Jack is. He, uh, well, he . . .”
Fuck.
Why couldn’t he think of something to say to cheer her up?
Yeah, the magic show had been kind of terrible, but that didn’t mean his grandfather could say that to her.
He’d hurt her feelings.
Blakely was . . . she was sensitive. Sweet. She couldn’t really handle criticism. No matter whether it was the truth or not.
And his grandfather needed to learn to hold his tongue around her.
Although that would be like trying to teach a dog not to pant.
Kind of impossible.
Her head dropped, and her shoulders started shaking.
Shit.
She was crying.
What should he do?
Hug her, you idiot.
Right. That’s what he wanted to do. But it would be inappropriate. Wouldn’t it?
He stepped toward her. “Blakely, I’m so sorry about Grandpa Jack. You know he doesn’t really mean it.”
To his shock, she stared up at him and started giggling.
Giggling?
She wasn’t upset?
“Yes, he did. He totally meant it. Because it really was crap.” Another giggle, but this one didn’t sound so happy. “Totally, utterly crap. What am I doing wrong?”
And just like that, her giggles turned to despair.
“Oh, baby,” he murmured as tears dripped down her face.
“I’m a crap magician! I’ll never get accepted to magic school. I can’t even work this wand.”
Probably not the time to point out that a wand couldn’t really be magic.
Nope. Likely not.
He moved closer to her. To his shock, she suddenly flung herself into his arms so he had no choice but to hug her.
Right.
Like that’s not what you wanted all along.
He cuddled her against him. “I didn’t realize you wanted to get into magic school.”
Was there such a thing as magic school?
“Well, of course I do. What would any great magician want but to go to magic school? The only problem is I’m not a great magician!” she wailed.
“Oh, darlin’.” He rocked her back and forth. “If that’s what you really want, we’ll find a way to make it happen.”
Even if the last thing he wanted was for her to leave him . . . ah, he meant for her to leave Grandpa Jack. Because his grandfather had grown fond of Blakely and it would be a pain in the ass to replace her.
Yeah. That’s it.
You tell yourself that.
She drew back and wiped her cheeks with her fingers. He let her go so he could walk over and grab a tissue. Turning, he found her right behind him. The urge to hug her again was so strong that he thrust the tissue into her face without a word.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, cleaning herself up. “You know there’s not really a magic school, right? Just like everything else good in my life, it’s simply a silly dream. Something that kept me going when things were . . . tough.”
“Have things always been tough, darlin’?”
Please say no.
Please tell me that there’s been some good in your life.
“No, not always. I had an amazing childhood. But when my parents died in a car crash, I went to live with my grandfather. My grandfather . . . well, he could be stern and impatient, but he wasn’t mean. He gave me everything I needed. Food. Shelter. Clothing. When he died, there was no one else. So I ended up in foster care. My first foster family were really kind and welcoming, but when the dad got a job overseas, they had to move and leave me behind. I was fine, though.”
God.
He could imagine how hard that was on her. Blakely was so full of life. Of optimism. But he wondered what toll that had taken on her.
“I had a few other foster families after that, but I found it hard to connect. To fit in.”
He couldn’t stand it.
She was breaking his heart. And he thought that thing had rusted up and disintegrated a long time ago.
“Then after that, I was on my own. Luckily, I had enough money from my inheritance to buy Frank and we went out on our own to explore the world. I thought I was so grown-up. That I could do anything. Turns out, I was wrong. Sometimes, it was hard to get a job and I would end up sleeping in Frank.”
Fuck. Fuck.
He couldn’t take any more and as she opened her mouth to add to the heartache, he pressed his lips to hers. It was done without thought.
Perhaps later he’d justify it to himself by saying he only kissed her to quiet her.
But that was utter bullshit.
He kissed her because he wanted to. Because her lips looked so plump and sweet. And he needed to see more in her eyes than sadness.
Because he wanted the taste of her on his lips, his tongue.
When she let out a small moan and parted her lips, he took full advantage. Using his hand behind her head, he held her close and took his fill of her.
Only, he wanted more and more. His cock grew hard, his balls aching.
Smash!
Fuck! What was that? He stepped away from Blakely, both of them breathing heavily.
Shit. Grandpa.
Turning, he rushed toward the kitchen. “Grandpa? What was that?”
“Nothing. Just a darn glass smashing. It’s fine. Don’t make a fuss, boy,” his grandfather grumbled, standing by the table. There was smashed glass on the floor all around his feet.
Thankfully, he was wearing shoes.
“Oh, let me take care of that.” Blakely slid past him. Shoot, he hadn’t even realized that she was behind him.
Before he could move, she was on her knees next to his grandfather, picking up shards of glass with her bare hands.
Oh, hell no!
“Blakely!” he snapped.
She cried out in shock and tightened her hold on some of the glass.
Fuck. Shit.
“Boy, what are you doing!” Grandpa Jack grumbled. “You’re going to scare her.”
“Shit. Sorry. Blakely, did you cut yourself?” He reached for her, putting his hands under her arms and lifting her onto her feet.
“No, I’m all right.” She opened her hands to show him.
Relief filled him. “What were you thinking? You shouldn’t be picking up glass with your bare hands. You could cut yourself.”
“Only if some idiot scared her,” Grandpa Jack said dourly.
Yes, yes, he knew that he was the idiot.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I was just going to help clean up.”
Crap. Now he felt really bad.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he explained. “I just didn’t want you to cut yourself.”
“I’m fine. Shall I get a broom?”
He really, really needed to let her go before he drew her close and kissed her again.
“Drop the glass.” Shoot. He said it in a far harder voice than he intended and cleared his throat as Grandpa Jack glared at him. “Please.”
She was staring at him in shock. Then she glanced at her hand before looking at the floor. “Um, I . . .”
“Put it on the table, girly,” Grandpa Jack told her. “The boy will clean it up.”
“I will if you let my hand go,” she told him.
Shit. What was wrong with him today? He let her hand go quickly and stepped back.
A hint of hurt entered her face.
Yeah. He was just fucking up all the way around tonight. She set the glass down on the table.
“Please step away,” he ordered.
Her eyes grew wide and glassy.
“Boy,” Grandpa Jack warned.
“I meant away from the glass. I don’t want you stepping on it,” he told her.
“But I have shoes on,” she pointed out. “My shoelaces are even tied.”
“Please move away from the glass.” It was sending his protective instincts into overdrive.
Yes, he knew it was ridiculous. She wasn’t in any real danger, but he still couldn’t get himself to be more rational.
“All right.” She stepped back.
“Good girl,” he told her.
It was like all the air was suddenly sucked from the room. What was he doing?
Shit.
Talk about being completely unprofessional. He really needed to take a step back here. To put distance between them. Physically and emotionally.
“You’re dismissed,” he said stiffly.
“Um, I’m . . . what?” she asked, looking confused.
“Dismissed for the day. I’m sure you have other things you want to do with your free time.”
Fuck.
He hated the shocked hurt on her face. He knew he was being a dick. But he couldn’t take the words back, could he?
This was for the best.
Then why did he feel so awful as she walked away without another word?
“Boy, you best have a good reason for talking to my girl like that.” Grandpa Jack shuffled around the glass and sat in another chair. Stafford poured him a small Scotch and then grabbed the broom and pan.
“Your girl?”
“Yep. And I don’t like how you just spoke to her. So you best tell me what’s going on.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I’m sorry if you thought I was rude.”
“Rude? You just about eviscerated her.”
Stafford shot him a look. “What I said wasn’t that bad.”
“You know she’s a sensitive thing. Trying to work on that with her, but it’s hard going.”
“I just didn’t want her to hurt herself.”
Grandpa Jack grunted. “Really? Very concerned about her hurting herself, are you?”
“Yes. She is my employee. I have to provide a safe environment.”
“Just an employee?” Grandpa Jack asked.
“Yes. Just an employee.” He picked up the pan and emptied it.
Just an employee?
Ouch.
Blakely slipped away after that. She wasn’t sure she could stand to hear anything more. Obviously, kissing her was a huge mistake that Stafford now regretted.
She got it.
It wasn’t like he wanted her.
Why would he?
Still. It hurt. A lot.
Heading into her bedroom, she took a quick shower before getting into her favorite pajamas. They had images of wizards all over them and were a deep purple color. They were a bit short and tight around the bust, but years of washing them had made them soft and thin, so it didn’t matter to her.
Climbing into bed, she grabbed Mr. Whiskers and Mrs. Flopsy, holding them tight.
“It doesn’t matter that he just sees me as an employee,” she whispered to them. “Honestly. It’s better this way. It stops me from . . . hoping.”
It took her a long time to fall asleep, though. She kept replaying that kiss over and over in her head.
Wasn’t it just typical that the best kiss of her life came from a man who instantly regretted it.