Chapter 13
13
C athy shoots me a dirty look as she gets paired off with a werewolf who’s shorter than she is. I make a point to wink at her as she walks by to grab a mallet and ball.
“Did you stay in Castleview last night?” I ask Storm as he picks a blue striped mallet.
I’ve still got the mallet in my hand from when Devlin helped me. I just need to retrieve my ball.
“I’ve rented a house, so yes, I’m staying here,” Storm tells me.
“Rented a home?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know how long I’ll be staying.” He gives me a look that practically has hearts in his eyes. “And I still have a company to run, so I thought a house would be best.”
“Are you inventing while you’re here?”
He smiles shyly, revealing a dimple in his left cheek. It’s adorable. So adorable. “I’m always inventing because inspiration comes at the strangest times. I’m afraid it’s been very hard on my previous relationships.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be.” He gives me a thousand-watt smile. “It’s what led me here.” He scans the rack of mallets and frowns. “Where’s your ball?”
“Oh. I left it on the grass. I was practicing earlier.”
He grins. “Trying to get a head start?”
“No, trying to be good at magical spell ball. I’m not all that great.”
He leans over conspiratorially. “Good thing you’re with me, then. I’m a champion at this game. But then again, I’m great at everything I do.”
Such confidence! It’s a turn-on. My panties are practically soaked even though they aren’t. “I’m glad we’re paired together, then.”
“Let me get your ball.” He opens his hand, and the ball lifts from the ground and flies into his open palm. He hands it to me. “There you go. Now. Let’s line up. I’m ready to win.”
Okay, so Storm Grayson has magic, so he’s definitely got wizard blood and a lot of it. I’ll have to tell Chelsea, because I know she’s dying to know what he is.
As I follow him across the lawn, I find myself absently scanning the garden. Not for anyone in particular. Nope. But when my gaze happens to land on Devlin, my eyes stop moving.
He’s been matched up with a little redhead who’s cute as a button. I don’t know her, but I recognize her from last night’s ball. She’s smiling up at Devlin like he holds the whole damn world in his hands, and he’s smiling at her, too.
Smiling.
What a pig. He’s “helping me” with my game one minute and then hitting on some cute little redhead the next.
Whatever. It’s not my problem. I don’t care.
“Are you ready,” Storm asks, sidling up, “to wipe the floor with the competition?”
I drag my gaze from Devlin and grit my teeth. “I sure am.”
Storm was not exaggerating when he said that he’s great at spell ball. He’s amazing, actually. It only takes a few swings and we’re in the lead. Like, by miles.
Cathy keeps shooting flaming arrows of death from her eyes at me, that’s how I know that I’m winning at more than just the game.
And Storm is nice, too. He really is. You wouldn’t think that a billionaire would be nice given that most of them seem to want to run our planet the way that they see fit. But he’s not like that.
He comes across as a big nerd who just loves inventing things.
“And what about you?” he asks, genuinely interested in me and my likes. “Have you ever been interested in creating?”
“Yes. When I was in high school, I was really good at potions.”
“Potions?” he snorts.
“Yes. There’s so much that you can do with them. Potions can become spells that change the world. You can shift entire industries with the right potion. Beauty, for example. You could create a potion to replace glamours. You can create potions that attack certain diseases. People think of potions as something small, a charm. But they can be so much more.”
Storm blinks. I must have impressed him. “I’ve never thought about it like that. When I created the instant warmer, it was a marriage of mechanics and spells, almost like a potion.”
“The instant warmer,” I murmur. “That’s the one where if you’re naked during the winter solstice, you immediately get hot, right?
“That’s the one.”
I frown. “Didn’t Devlin create one of those, too?”
Storm stiffens. “He did, but after me. In fact…” He leans into my ear. His breath is soft, and it smells like peppermint. Perfect. “I hate to say this because Devlin is a great inventor, but just between us, I do believe that he stole not only the concept, but some of the mechanics from me.”
My jaw drops. Devlin might be a lot of things, but he’s not a thief. “What makes you say that?”
He straightens and shrugs, glancing at the other players in a bored stare. “It just seemed very coincidental that he would come up with the same idea at the same time as I did, is all.” He smooths a hand over his hair as if he’s also trying to smooth the words over my skin, so that the blow won’t hurt when it lands. “I don’t have proof, of course, but I got the patent first, if that tells you anything. Oh look, we’re up. I’ll go put us in a good position. If we play this right, we’ll win the game.”
He squeezes my hand, and the moment of affection takes me by surprise. I jolt, and my gaze darts from where his hand is on mine up to his eyes. Storm’s smiling at me gently, and I can’t help but give him a smile in return, albeit an uneasy one.
Then he strides off with those long, tree-trunk legs of his, leaving me to think about what he said. Devlin, a cheat? Not the old Devlin that I knew.
But let’s be real, yesterday and today are the most time that I’ve spent with the man in years. Years, and honestly, there’s no telling what someone will do to rise to the top of their field, scheming and cheating included. Being an inventor is a hard way to make it in life. There’s tons of competition.
But it still seems strange that Devlin would steal someone else’s idea and claim it for his own. My gaze tracks to where he stands, off to the side, still chatting up the redhead. She’s looking at him as if he’s a mountain and the sun just crested over his peak.
Yeah, I’m aware that’s a terrible metaphor, but I’m still going to roll with it.
As they share a laugh, I can’t help but feel a punch in the gut. Last night he opened up to me, and I felt something for him that I hadn’t felt in years. My anger and resentment were replaced with compassion. And he seemed to feel it, too. I could have sworn that he did, that he felt just like me, that we’d shared a moment when he confessed things to me that he’d never explained in high school.
I felt sorrow for him, and I just wanted to hug him tight, give him a teddy bear and tell him that everything would be okay.
It seemed like such a real connection, like we were on the verge of kissing, even, or of at least moving forward an inch.
But now here he is, flirting it up with a redhead that he just met. Yeah, I know that I’m not one to talk, as I’ve been paired with Storm and have every intention of nabbing him. I do see the irony here, trust me. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling just a teensy bit jealous, as if what Devlin said last night was only for show.
But isn’t he all about show? He’s flash and pizzazz, putting on a face for the world that’s so different from what he was like last night. He gave me a glimpse of who he really is, and then this morning he snatched it away by walking around naked.
I don’t even want to think about his body, but now I can’t help but recall the taut abdomen and those sculpted shoulders.
And then there was his…nope. Not going there. I’m not going to even let my mind trail down past his belly button.
Oh, I just did.
Well, let me just say that all looked good down there. Very good. Exceptionally good.
Is it hot out here? I could use some lemonade.
My gaze shifts to Devlin again, and he’s pointing something out to the redhead. From the looks of it, he appears to be explaining spell ball.
It’s not at all how he explained it to me. Oh my gods, how his breath danced over my skin, and how he tucked my hair over my shoulder. My entire body felt that jolt.
His touch was fire. He woke up my body, made me feel alive, not only with his words but with his touch.
I’ve dated only a few guys over the years. As I’ve mentioned ad nauseum, once they figure out that I can bend them to my will like an evil sorceress, they tend to bolt, wondering how much I’d already influenced their behavior.
Answer: none.
But anyway, of course before they figured out my evil ways, we’d kissed. Lots. And done other things. My body always responded, but it wasn’t like it is with Devlin.
Man, I hate to say that.
But it’s true. There’s something about the way his flesh feels on mine that’s just sinfully…right.
Wrong . I’m supposed to say wrong. And I’m supposed to put all thoughts of him away and focus on my new Juke Box Hero, Storm Grayson, inventor extraordinaire.
“I think we’re going to win, Blair!” It’s Storm. He’s smiling and about to hit the ball through the hoop, which he does. “You’re up!” My turn. I grab my mallet and he gives me a thumbs-up. “We can put this one in the bag.”
As I take position, I feel the eyes of not only my family but everyone else on me. They’ve been watching me with Storm, and the fact that he’s being so familiar and comfortable with me earns an approving look from tennis pro Ovie. It also earns a scowl from Cathy and the minion club.
But what it does not earn is any attention from Devlin. He’s still talking with the redhead, deep in conversation, I’d like to add.
What’s the deal? He’s supposed to be helping me, not flirting with his next fling. How could he touch me so scandalously an hour ago (let’s face it, his touch was one degree away from making me feel filthy) and then just ignore me?
It’s maddening, is what it is. Just purely insanely maddening.
As I stand facing the ball and looking at the jiggling and jangling hoop that’s wiggling and bouncing in what most people would probably consider koala-bear cute, all I want to do is yank that sucker out of the ground and stomp on it.
Deep breath, Blair. You’ve got this. You’re heading in the direction that you want to go. Storm is interested in you. You are interested in him. Focus on that.
I pull the mallet back to hit the ball as a peel of laughter rings out from Devlin’s side of the garden.
My head snaps in his direction, and the redhead has her chin up, and she’s laughing. He’s laughing, too.
And then his eyes go black.
Holy shit.
He’s just used my power on her.
Hot rage shatters me, and I swing the mallet in fury. The crack of the ball is loud, like a shotgun exploding.
The next crack is not so deafening. It’s bone crunching. But the scream that follows it is earsplitting.
My blood stops and I whip my head in the direction of the sound. I immediately spot my ball. It’s on the ground, rolling aimlessly through the thick grass, away from Storm’s feet.
My gaze tracks up to his face. Storm’s cupping his nose with both hands. Blood’s spewing through his fingers, and he’s screaming, “My nose!”
The mallet falls from my hands, and all I can do is stare as the crowd rushes to help Storm, the man whose nose I just broke.