Chapter 22 Give Into The Magic
Everett
December Nineteenth
My eyes flicker open as the sun pours into our bedroom. Stretching, I turn to find Claire asleep on the other side of the bed. Her pillow is pushed up above her head, and she’s laying on her stomach with her head directly on the mattress. Her hair is sprawled wildly around her.
She looks beautiful.
Her body begins to stir, but I can’t look away.
“Are you watching me sleep?” she asks, peeking through her silky strands.
“Caught me,” I admit, my lips curling into a soft smile.
“Freak.” She laughs. Her gaze moves around the room, and her face falls when she realizes where we still are. “Part of me was really hoping yesterday was a dream.”
“I know.”
Breathing in deep, her eyes flutter closed. I shift my body, so that I’m now just a couple inches away from where she is.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her eyes popping open.
“Well, I was going to try to comfort you, but if you’d rather me not, I can give you a minute.”
“Comfort me?” Her voice wobbles slightly, and a few rogue tears run down her cheeks.
“I don’t have any ulterior motives, just thought you could use a hug.” I reach out and trail my fingers down her arm.
“I could.”
“Then come here,” I say, pulling her into me. She melts into my embrace, and I inhale her sweet scent. Her body shakes as she begins to cry, and I hold her tighter.
“It’s okay,” I assure her, rubbing my hands up and down her back. “We’ll figure it out today.”
Rolling back, her eyes find mine, and I bring the pad of my thumb to her cheek, wiping away the tears.
“You think so?” she sniffles.
“Yes, and I was thinking. Maybe we go explore the town together today and see if Stella will talk to us. I came up empty handed yesterday, so I think the key to this is us doing it together.”
She moves away from me and inhales deeply, looking up at the ceiling, and my heart sinks.
“I’m not suggesting the love thing again, but I do think we’re better together than apart,” I explain.
“I agree.” She turns her head. “And for the record, I’m not opposed to your idea. I just don’t think it’s the solution that’s going to get us home before Christmas.”
Holy fucking shit. She’s not opposed to falling in love with me.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she says, covering her face with her hands and shaking her head.
“Like what?”
“Like I just told you I love you.”
“Didn’t you?” I smirk.
“No…” She huffs a breath and sits up. “I said that I’m open to the idea of you and me in the future. I just don’t think it’s going to happen before Christmas.”
“I’m hearing I have a chance.”
She rolls out of bed, laughing. “You truly can be so incredibly—”
“Amazing?”
My chest expands as a smile brightens her face.
“Not the word I was going to use,” she quips.
“No? You’re not crying anymore,” I boast, climbing out of bed and turning to face her.
“No, I guess I’m not.”
“See? Seems like someone pretty amazing made you feel better.” I can’t help the arrogant curve of my lips. She may not want to admit the effect I have on her, but I can see it. Like maybe she’s realizing I could be more than the cock that makes her feel good.
“Let’s get dressed,” she says, walking toward her closet. Her hands flex by her sides as she moves, but she doesn’t look at me.
I turn to walk to mine holding on tight to the thought that if I keep showing her the man I really am, she and I might actually have a chance this time.
The weather is a little warmer than it was yesterday but still too cool to melt the snow. Nervous energy pulses through my veins like electricity through a wire as we approach the doors of Citrine Brews. We have to figure this out today, and I don’t know what we’re going to do if we don’t.
I look over toward Claire, hoping to calm some of my nerves, and I find her staring back at me holding in a laugh.
“What?” I question.
“Your sweater,” she says. “It’s just funny that that’s what you picked to wear.”
The sweater I’m wearing peeks out from beneath my open coat. It’s dark green, and on the front, red lettering says that I’m On The Naughty List. A Santa hat tops the “O,” and some type of tinsel is sewn into the fabric, making it incredibly itchy.
“It was this or a light-up sweater with a large reindeer head on the front, so I went with what I thought was the less obnoxious option.”
“Oh man!” She giggles. “I wish you had worn the other one.”
“Laugh all you want, but we’re supposed to be giving into the spirit of the town, and I felt like this did the trick.”
“Okay,” she says, putting her hands up. “It is actually kind of cute on you.” She smirks, shifting her eyes to mine.
“Oh yeah? You think I’m cute.” I stand up a little taller and puff out my chest.
“You know I do. Just don’t let it go to your head.”
“Oh, it’s definitely going to my head.” Glancing down at my dick, I wiggle my eyebrows.
“How do you do that?” she asks.
“Do what?”
“Make me want you even when I should want nothing to do with you?”
“You want me?”
She sucks in a sharp breath. “Stop,” she scolds, blush covering her cheeks.
“That’s not a word I’ve heard you say before.” The corner of my mouth tips upward.
“Don’t flirt with me when we’re supposed to be focusing on getting back to New York. We have so much to figure out.”
“But the flirting is fun.”
“The flirting isn’t going to get us anywhere but back in bed, and the only place we need to be going is back to New York.”
“It’s that hard to resist me?” I nudge her as we continue to walk.
“Um…”
“You can admit it.”
She shakes her head. “Yes. Okay. It’s hard to resist you, and while we’re both used to distracting one another from a bad day, this is different. We need to try to focus, and you flirting is making that really hard.”
My eyes find hers, and I lift an eyebrow.
“We’ll figure it out,” I assure her. “Plus, if we took a detour to the bed on the way back to New York, would that be the worst thing in the world?”
“Everett,” she warns.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll stop.” I put my hands up and shake my head.
For now.
I can’t help myself when I’m around her, and as much as she wants to pretend like she doesn’t like our little back and forths, I know she does.
“Shall we go figure it out?” I ask, pulling the doors of Citrine Brews open. Following her inside, we’re met with immediate warmth and calm.
The lighting is dim, and exposed brick surrounds the space on three sides.
Worn wood floors are covered by mismatched vintage rugs.
Along one of the walls is a large bar. The veining of the wood and raw edges add to the woodsy charm of the shop.
Behind the bar is a cluttered counter covered with espresso machines, pour-over coffee makers, canisters filled with ingredients, syrups, mugs, and more.
Hanging plants, novelty signs, and Christmas trinkets haphazardly decorate the shelves above it.
Two large chalk boards list the seasonal menu, and twinkling lights are strung across the ceiling.
A small glass case to the right of the register is full of seasonal pastries.
An array of leather and jewel-toned furniture is mixed with a few tables, laid out so that people can gather with one another. The shop is busy with people, and the instrumental Christmas music can barely be heard over their conversations and occasional laughter.
“Well if it isn’t two of my favorite people,” a man who I recognize as Joe says, chuckling from behind the counter. “Can I get you both your usual?”
Usual? We have usuals here?
“Sure,” I say, looking over at Claire and lifting an eyebrow. “Thank you.”
We explore the store while we wait.
Along the wall opposite the bar, minerals are displayed on glass shelves with small descriptions of the glittering rocks.
To the right is a display case full of stacked baskets filled with smaller stones of varying shapes.
Each one is smooth and easily held in your hand. On top of the case is handmade jewelry.
“Claire! Everett!” a woman says as she walks toward us.
Shit, what is her name? Carrie? Kim?
“Hi, Cami,” Claire says as the stranger wraps her in a warm hug, and she awkwardly returns it.
“Don’t tell me you two are finally interested in my crystals.”
“Oh, we were just waiting on our drinks,” I explain.
She hums to herself but doesn’t walk away.
Perusing the smaller crystals, Claire picks up an ocean-colored stone.
“Actually, what’s this one called?” she asks, smoothing her thumb over the surface.
“That one is a blue apatite crystal.”
“It’s pretty. What does it do?”
“Oh, apatite is a powerful stone. It can help you communicate truths, and some believe it can even help you manifest your deepest desires.”
Claire abruptly throws the stone back into the basket she pulled it from and then glances over at me.
“Is that so?” she asks.
Cami hums again. “You should get one. Apatite is a good choice, but if I were you, citrine might be better suited for you two.” She plucks a reddish-orange stone from one of the baskets.
“What does it do?” I ask.
“It helps with sorting through complex problems and with making decisions.”
Like figuring out how to get home?
“And why would we need help with that?” Claire asks, no doubt having the same thought I’m having.
Does she know we aren’t from here? Ginger didn’t seem to, and neither did the girls texting Claire, but maybe…
“The Christmas Extravaganza competition of course.” A wide smile breaks across her face.
“It’s a tough competition and a long day.
I saw the look on your face when Stella announced you two as the king and queen.
It seemed like you two could use all the help you can get.
” She puts out her arm, handing Claire the small stone.
“You should take one home on me. Think of it as a good luck charm.”
“Oh, we couldn’t,” she says, not taking the stone.
“Why not?”
Claire hesitates, peering over to me.
“Uh, Stella asked us not to accept gifts,” I interject. “Something about bribing the judges.”
Claire offers me a thankful smile and then plays with the silver chain around her neck. “Yeah, she’s being really strict.”
“Well you know what Stella doesn’t know won’t hurt her, but I understand.” She places the stone back where she retrieved it. “They’ll be here if you change your mind. You’d be surprised what can happen when you give into the magic.”
Give into the magic. Isn’t that what Stella said?
I open my mouth to question her, but she’s already walking away.
“Everett. Claire. I’ve got those drinks,” Joe calls from behind the counter, holding up two paper cups and then setting them down for us.
“How much do I owe you?” I ask, walking over.
“Ten,” he says, tapping on the cash register.
Reaching into my coat pocket, I pull out my leather wallet and freeze when I see my niece’s drawing. If I could ever use the luck this little flower could bring, it’s now.
“You good?” he asks.
“Oh, yeah,” I say, handing him the debit card.
“I swear Cami is going to get you to buy into her crystals one of these days.” He chuckles, swiping the little pink card and handing it back.
“I don’t know about that.”
“My wife can be very persuasive. Receipt?”
“No, we’re good. Thanks, man.”
I grab the drinks and turn to find Claire already waiting for me by the door.