Acting on impulse, as she had done for much of her life, Kira leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
A zip of energy hummed between them for a moment, shocking Kira’s eyes open. Then, with a crack of thunder, the skies opened up and pounded them with rain.
Chapter 8
She’d kissed him.
It was hours later, and Brogan shook his head as he toweled off from his desperately needed hot shower. They’d run their separate ways when the storm hit, since their cars were parked far away from each other. At the time, it had been instinctual, but now Brogan wondered what she’d thought of him taking off like that. Granted, it had been a nasty storm that had whipped up out of nowhere – still, Brogan berated himself for not running with Kira to her car to make sure she got there safely.
He hadn’t been thinking clearly. Her kiss… well, it had shocked him. Brogan brought a hand to his lips where he could’ve sworn he still felt the heat from her lips. Had she felt the same thing he had?
Or maybe she’d put a spell on him.
Brogan muttered an expletive as he ran the towel over his hair. He wouldn’t be Irish if he hadn’t heard his fair share of stories about the fae and magickal realms. In fact, his own gran had insisted that the very land she’d bequeathed him was magickal. He’d always entertained her stories, never once letting her believe that he questioned her thoughts. He’d thought it charming that she believed in magick. He didn’t, of course – it warred with his scientific outlook. But his gran had done no harm with her beliefs and they had brought her joy – so Brogan had seen no need to try and change her mind.
You’ve a kind heart, Brogan.
He could still hear the words his gran had spoken as she lay on her deathbed. He’d sat with her during her final days and listened as she’d rambled on, telling him of enchanted waters and blood magick passed down through generations. But in the end, she’d held his hand and thanked him for always listening to her, even though she knew he didn’t believe in the same things she did. It had meant a lot to him, knowing that he could bring her some comfort in her last days.
His own mother surely hadn’t.
Brogan’s mother, Dorothea, was a vapid, sullen woman who had wanted the world to be handed to her on a silken cushion. Furious that she’d had to work for a living, Dorothea had allowed her bitterness to poison both herself and all of her relationships. It was a miracle that Brogan hadn’t inherited the toxic traits from her – likely due to the fact that he always wanted to be out of the house. He had spent hours roaming the hills as a young lad, forever searching for reasons to stay away from home.
He had created many a magickal story in those days. He’d built forts with imaginary friends, and won fierce battles in the woods with others. With a vivid imagination and inquisitive mind, he’d grown to love the natural world; from that, his quest to know more, more, more had blossomed. Grateful for his gran, who had been the one to encourage him in science, Brogan had found his own tentative path.
Away from his mother.
She’d become enraged when his gran’s will was read. Dorothea had been convinced for years that she would inherit Gran’s land and money. But when she saw that the will had listed only Brogan’s name, Dorothea had spit on his shoes. Six months later, she’d died from late-stage liver cancer, having refused Brogan’s calls to the last day of her life.
And that just about summed up everything there was to know about his upbringing. Now, he sought the solace of the outdoors and a desire to learn more about this land that his gran had loved so much. Maybe, just maybe, he could feel closer to her by spending time here.
It also helped that Gran had been loaded, which meant Brogan could afford to take time off work.
To look at her, one would never have guessed she was rich as could be. She wore her clothes until they were threadbare, insisting on patching every hole, and the only jewelry she’d worn was the gold band her husband had given her on their wedding day. His gran had lived a simple life, rich in nature and friendships, and he’d been astonished