A Stroke Of Magic Part 27

I only hoped it wasn't too late.

Chapter Nineteen.

My hand shook as I knocked on the door to Ethan's apartment. I'd half expected him to refuse me when I'd buzzed him from the outside, but he hadn't. Thank goodness. The door opened, and there he stood-all tall, strong, s.e.xy, and delicious-and my first instinct was to wrap my arms around him and lay a huge, fat, wet kiss on his lips.

Luckily, common sense won out, because he didn't look happy to see me. He didn't appear unhappy, either. More like a statue, stiff and unyielding. That mask was in place, s.h.i.+elding his eyes. And instead of the smile I'd hoped to see, his mouth was spread into a taut, straight line. Well, who could blame him? I'd turned him away. Not once, but twice.

We stayed there for a second, the air between us heavy with unsaid words, emotions. Finally, because I couldn't stand the quiet any longer, and because the ball was oh-so-firmly in my court, I forced a smile. "Can I come in? I'd really like to talk."

Nodding, he stepped aside. "Do you want to sit down?" he asked.

"Yes...no..." I pulled in a breath. "Yes. That would be nice. Thanks."

I followed him on shaky legs. A stepladder stood in the living room, in front of the couch. Looking up, I saw the light fixture from the other night hanging in place. Scooting around the ladder, I balanced myself on the edge of the sofa. Ethan took one of the chairs. My gaze fell to my hands, to the sketchpad I clutched. The words I needed to say were there, inside of me, but they were all jumbled up, and I didn't know what order they should go in, where to start, how to say what needed to be said to make everything right. And that scared me, because for something this important, I should know.

"You obviously came here for a reason, Alice. What is it?"

I sc.r.a.ped my bottom lip with my teeth, and then just pushed the words out as they came. "I made a mistake. But I know how to fix it, if you'll let me. If you still want me."

He drew in a breath. "Please be more precise. What mistake have you made?"

Rallying every bit of courage I had, I lifted my gaze to his. "I love you. My mistake was in walking away from you on the basis of that drawing. You were right about that."

A glimmer of something-hope?-teased at his expression. "I love you as well. However, my shoulder remains scarless. Is that still a deal breaker?"

"No! Not anymore. Because, Ethan? You will have a scar there someday. I don't know when exactly, but I know you will."

A light of interest gleamed and his voice softened a tad. "You sound quite sure of yourself. How do you know?"

"When I drew the beach drawing"-I flipped to the appropriate page in my sketchpad-"it wasn't with my magic. It was with Elizabeth's, and I was supposed to use my magic to find my soul mate. Not hers." I handed him the pad. "But I didn't know that and I focused too hard on that one little thing, when I shouldn't have."

He barely glanced at it. "Please understand my confusion here. You've been very clear about the ramifications of being with me if I'm not the man in this drawing. What has changed?"

"This isn't coming out right. Let me start from the beginning." My heart raced, and probably I spoke too fast, but I managed to get all of it out. Unlike before, this time he stopped me often to ask a question or for clarification. Weirdly, the idea of the magic didn't seem to bring forth censure. Oh, there was still a bit of skepticism there, but for the most part, he-outwardly, at least-accepted what I told him.

When I finished, I waited for him to smile. To be happy. To pull me into his arms and tell me he loved me, that he wanted to be with me. My entire body zinged with excitement. Everything I wanted was just around the corner. So close, I could see it.

But when several minutes elapsed, and he didn't do any of those things, the first flicker of real fear trickled in. "What's wrong? All I have to do is use my magic to draw a picture of my soul mate's past. I know it will be you! And then we'll know for sure, and we can be together. Isn't that what you want?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "No, Alice. Not like this. I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I won't go down that road again."

"But it's so simple." Oh my G.o.d. I was losing him, but I didn't understand why. "I thought...well, I thought you wanted to be with me. I mean, I get it if you don't. I really screwed up. I turned down your proposal and I'm so sorry I did that. But I'm here now."

In barely a breath, he was next to me. Cradling my hands in his, his gaze soaked into me. "Of course I want to be with you. But not because of a drawing-any drawing. I need you to make this decision based on our feelings. I need you to trust in me. To trust in us."

"But it's just that one drawing to set all my fears to rest. So there are no doubts, no worries." I wanted to draw that picture so badly, my fingers twitched.

"Ah, sweetheart. If only it were that simple. Maybe I'm selfish, because I want you to love me enough, to be so sure of us, that you'll decide our fate is to be together. Not some drawing. Not magic. Just me and you and how we feel."

"But it's just one little drawing," I repeated, my mind stuck on the ease of getting the proof I needed. "I love you, Ethan. I am sure about that. But don't you see? If you're not the right man, then being with me will hurt you too."

Steady gray eyes centered on me. "Take a breath. Calm down. Have faith in us."

I focused on him, on his voice, and slowly the worst of my nerves eased. As I sat there with my hands in his, a realization slid into place. He wasn't going to change his mind. It wouldn't matter what I said, how I pleaded. He'd made his decision and that was that. And if I wanted us to be together-and oh, I did-then I'd have to do it his way.

But could I? Could I give up that one measure of control, of absolute surety, that he was my soul mate? Was I willing to gamble everything on the love I felt for Ethan? On the love he felt for me? The fear came back, crawling through me with a vengeance.

"Let me think," I whispered. "I need to think."

"Take all the time you need. I'm right here."

Closing my eyes, I willed myself to relax. I fought to find the clarity that had come so easily earlier. I almost turned away again, and walked out that door, because as much as Ethan didn't want or need any more proof than how he felt, I couldn't let go of the desire for absolute certainty. I knew it was asking a lot. Normal people never have absolute certainty. But I could, and not reaching for it was terrifying. Almost too terrifying.

But because it-because he-was so important, I forced myself to stay, forced myself to breathe, and let the tide of emotions rip through me.

I could see my future with him clear as day. It was there, all around us, inside of me, just waiting for me to say the words to make it so. I thought them in my head, tried them on for size, let myself feel the way I would feel if I spoke them out loud. That feeling? Glorious, perfect, and oh-so-wonderful.

So then I imagined saying no, leaving and going back home. Without Ethan. The pain came so swiftly, so unrelenting, I gasped from the strength of it. I didn't want that. I couldn't choose that. Not just because it hurt. Not only because the thought of days, months, years without Ethan seemed incomprehensible. But because it just felt wrong. More than that, it felt stupid. How incredibly idiotic to run away from him-over what? A drawing?

But it all came back to that dream...to the prophecy. And how could I make a choice that could hurt my daughter? I wanted a sign that I was supposed to stay with Ethan, something to push me over the edge I stood on. Something to allow me to believe in my feelings, in everything I thought I saw with Ethan.

My daughter kicked then, and just like in that first vision, this kick had far more strength than it should have had. It startled me. It rocked me. And weirdly, just like it had with Miranda so long ago, it brought every last thing into focus. The tears started then, dripping down my cheeks, one after another. And I knew, in every breath I took, in the beat of my own heart, that yes, Ethan was that man. Nothing...no magic, no warnings, nothing would ever change that.

I opened my eyes, wiped at my tears. "Yes. I say yes. I won't do the drawing. I won't doubt what we feel. I trust you. I trust us."

All impa.s.sivity dropped away, and the tension emanating from Ethan evaporated. "Thank G.o.d. You nearly scared the life out of me there, sweetheart." His hands touched my cheek, my lips, my hair. "You're quite sure this time, correct?"

"Oh, yes. Quite sure." I leaned toward him. "Kiss me. Love me. I'm yours for as long as you want me."

And he did. Kiss me, that is. Sparks of desire, longing, whipped through me, just like always. His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer, locking me to him. His scent punched into me, and every bone in my body went weak, every muscle melted. Because kissing Ethan? Well, it was the stuff dreams were made of.

He pulled back and stood up, and immediately his absence chilled me.

"What's wrong?" I gasped. "You haven't changed your mind, have you? I mean it: I'm in this for good. I promise."

Deep laughter tumbled out. "Not at all. You're stuck with me. But I do have a present for you. I'll be right back."

Confusion clouded my brain, but he was back so fast, I didn't have to wonder for long. A wrapped, flat box in his grasp, he sat down next to me. "When you left here that day, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't believe that I'd fallen, yet again, for a woman who would leave me over..." His voice caught. "Never mind that. I went home to see my mother and my grandmother. I hadn't planned on telling them anything about you, but my grandmother sensed something. And one day over tea, I told her everything."

"Okay..."

"She gave me this present for you. She said it would give you what you needed to know to move forward with me." The darkness from earlier crept into his gaze, and he blushed. "I even visited Beatrice to see what her intuition said." He shook his head and chuckled. "She knew I was coming, and backed up what my grandmother told me-that I should give you this to fix everything. But I couldn't do it...because I needed you to believe in your feelings, to believe in me. So I've held on to this, hoping you'd come to me on your own. And you have. So here. Please accept this gift from my grandmother."

My hand trembled. I ripped the paper off carefully, for some reason apprehensive about what I would find. Silly, but there you have it. Beneath the paper was a plain brown box. I picked off the tape that held the lid shut and slowly opened it. Gasped. Stared. "Oh my G.o.d. Do you know what this is?"

He angled himself so he could see the framed photograph. "That photograph has sat on my grandmother's mantel for most of my life. Why, Alice? What does it mean to you?"

I shook my head, not able to talk, barely daring to breathe. Because somehow, his grandmother had known the exact right gift to give me. And even though I didn't need it now, even though the proof wasn't necessary for me to move forward, I was still oh-so-grateful to have it.

The picture? It was a photograph of a woman rocking a baby to sleep. And it was the same picture I myself had drawn. "This baby is you. Not my daughter. And the woman is your grandmother. Oh, my."

Confusion crinkled his eyes. "You'll have to fill me in-" He looked up toward his ceiling, and the timbre of his voice changed. "Move, Alice! Now."

"What?"

Everything happened at warp speed. He pushed me down, flat on the couch, his body covering me. A loud crack reverberated, and then another. I tried to squirm out from under him, but he held me tight, secure. Then came a crash, and Ethan's body tensed and then jerked, and the weight of something slammed onto him. A curse ripped out of his mouth.

Slowly, too slowly, he moved. Chunks of gla.s.s fell to the ground as he righted himself. That was when I finally saw what had happened. The ceiling light had come loose and crashed down upon us. Well, it would have landed on me if Ethan hadn't moved so fast.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Pain lit his eyes. "I think so. Can you take a look?" He turned his back to me, and carefully slipped his s.h.i.+rt up. "How bad is it?"

Blood dripped from his shoulder, but it was a fairly clean cut. "Not too bad, but you're going to need st.i.tches. We should go to the ER."

"So I'll live?"

I took another look and had to suppress a laugh at the absurdity of my life. "Oh yeah, you'll live. But that cut? It's so going to leave a scar."

Chapter Twenty.

The music drifted around me as I made my way across the room, looking for Ethan. I had something to tell him, something incredibly important. Vital, even. But as luck would have it, he seemed to have disappeared. My gaze swept the dance floor, wondering if perhaps Grandma Verda had shanghaied him again. Nope, not there either.

Elizabeth and Nate still danced, though. They'd been out there most of the evening, as well they should be. It was their engagement party, after all. My sister had never been so happy. I'd begun painting a portrait of their wedding day, based on the picture I'd drawn so many months ago, and I couldn't wait to give it to them. Delightfully, she still didn't know about it.

Moving on, I turned the corner, searching the many faces, wanting to find just one. Chloe and Kyle sat at a table, laughing and talking with Shelby and Grant. I no longer worried about Chloe-as far as Kyle went, anyway. I had to believe her future was as secure as mine, and that, when the time was right, she'd find her ever after. My lips twitched. Besides, I knew where Mr. Architect worked, and when the day came, she'd know it too.

Regardless, she was happy right now. My family had welcomed Chloe with open arms. And Scot? Well, he'd actually begun dating again, to my and Elizabeth's utter delight. In fact, the only blight, in Chloe's opinion, was that our magic, our gift, hadn't seemed to take hold for her. Both Elizabeth and I had tried to pa.s.s it on, but so far, nothing. Grandma Verda said not to stress, that when Chloe needed it, it would be there.

Yep, I pretty much agreed with that.

Besides, I kind of thought I'd already given it to her. Back before I'd known she was family, related by blood, on that day we had argued about Kyle, my promise, and the words I'd said to her in frustration: I wish you had the magic, Chloe. I was sure she'd gotten some.

I stopped and took a deep breath, centering myself. When it was easier to walk again, I moved forward, still seeking Ethan. Thoughts of that day at his place when I had almost made the biggest mistake of my life returned. I s.h.i.+vered from the memory. Thank G.o.d I'd made the decision I had. And thank G.o.d he hadn't been seriously injured. Though the scar that had developed? Yep, an exact match.

Ugh. The pain was coming quicker. Where the heck was he? My hand went to my stomach, and there, glistening in the lights, was the s.h.i.+ne of my engagement ring. You see, we were planning a wedding too, but not until later, not until after the baby was born. In Ireland, when I could travel again. When we were a complete family.

And even though Troy had maintained his decision to not be a part of his daughter's life, Ethan and I weren't taking any chances. After a lot of talking and soul-searching, we'd decided to follow the law to the letter. While Ethan wouldn't officially be my daughter's father until he could adopt her, he'd be her daddy in every way that mattered-from her very first breath.

Finally, my eyes found him: the man I loved. He was leaning against a wall, talking to my father, possibly about Miranda and the magic, as he'd quizzed everyone except for my mother about their experiences with it. My mother still hadn't said a word about that day, which was fine. She would at some point.

A smile touched my lips as I thought again about Ethan and his growing acceptance of my wacky family. Well, except for one thing. My big, handsome, s.e.xy guy was all nervous over meeting Miranda. Which I thought was sweet.

When I reached him, I grasped his hand. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart." His arm came around my waist, and he pulled me to him. "Your father and I were just discussing a house that's come up for sale near theirs. We should go take a look tomorrow. What do you think?"

I leaned in very close and whispered, "We'll be busy, as it appears Beatrice was right. I'm not going to make it through the weekend."

We'd spent quite a bit of time with my daughter's other grandmother lately, and slowly she was becoming an integral part of our family. Odd, maybe, but also very cool.

And yes, she truly was "a very good guesser."

Confusion zapped into his gaze, and then comprehension dawned. "Now? Right this second?"

I laughed. "Well, I think we have time to get to the hospital." My stomach tightened again. "But we should probably go." Another spasm rolled through me. So strong, so fast, I bit my lip, hard. "Um. Soon, actually."

The love in his eyes took my breath away. "Well, then. Let's go meet our daughter. We should probably finalize her name tonight, don't you think?"

Another laugh slipped out as he guided me away from the party. "We'll know, when we see her, what name suits her best. And I think, sometime tonight, we'll have another visit-this one from Miranda."

He kissed me, first on the forehead and then on the lips. A tingle swept over my skin, just like always. And then, hand in hand, we began walking toward our future. Gypsy magic might have gotten us started, but the magic we created together would see us through. One day at a time, for the rest of our lives.

What could be better than that?

Acknowledgments.

Thank you to the greatest critique partners of all time: Natalie Damschroder, Connie Phillips, and Liane Gentry Skye, for your input, words of wisdom, and continuous support. I don't know what I'd do without you gals. Let's not find out!

A huge thanks to my fabulous editor, Chris Keeslar, and my fantastic agent, Mich.e.l.le Grajkowski, for helping me make my words, my stories, so much stronger.

And a final thanks to my family, who always supports me, even when I go a "little bit crazy." I know it can't be easy, but I so appreciate it!