Spells A Bayou Magic Novel - Kristen Proby Page 0,34
“I’m only picking up on impressions here and there. An urgency. I think he’s only going to escalate from here. We need a meeting with all three sisters this morning.”
“Agreed,” Cash says. “Just when I thought the spooky, psycho shit was done for a while, here we are. The ME’s on his way over now. I’m going to record the scene, and then we’ll be out of your hair.”
“I’ll call my sisters,” Millie interjects.
“Looks like we’re having a family meeting today,” Cash says. “I wish it was about something happy. Like Christmas.”
“Me, too,” Millie replies.
“With there being a dead foot on the back porch, I was a little preoccupied, but I caught a glimpse of your garden this morning,” Millie pipes up from the passenger seat as we head to Daphne’s shop. “I’ve heard some of the other witches talking about getting clippings from your plants, but I had no idea it was so…amazing back there.”
I grin and reach for her hand. I find myself constantly reaching for her, needing to touch her. To reassure myself that she’s here, and that she’s whole.
“Thanks.”
“You just planted it out of the goodness of your heart for other members of the coven?”
“Yes, and no. My property is quite big, and I’m not the type who enjoys mowing the grass all the time.”
“You planted special herbs and flowers because you don’t like to cut the grass? I might have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night.”
I laugh and make a right turn. “I don’t want to freak you out.”
“Now you don’t want to freak me out?”
“Okay, point taken. You’ve planted a garden like that one many times over the past several hundred years. I know what you prefer to grow, where you like it, and I planted it myself because I hoped that the day would eventually come that I’d share my home with you again. And, if you want to get extra weird, I will admit that the house I live in now is the same one we lived in together. Before.”
I risk a glance in her direction and see her staring ahead, likely processing what I’ve told her.
“Whoever owned the house after us tore out your garden, but when I bought it back, I replanted it.”
“Why can’t we be a normal couple?” she asks. “Just a normal, run-of-the-mill couple, who likes to have sex all the time and watch old eighties movies. Maybe pick up a hobby together, like bowling or skiing.”
“There’s no skiing in Louisiana,” I remind her.
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t know why. And, honestly, I wouldn’t change it. Because I think you’re amazing, and spending ten lifetimes with you is more than what most people get with those they love.”
“You’re quite sweet,” she says. “In every memory I have, you’re protective and affectionate and just good to me.”
“There’s enough shit in your life, darlin’. You don’t need any more from me. And shouldn’t one be kind to their beloved? Shouldn’t I treat you as if you’re a treasure? Because you are. I know that makes me sound ridiculously old fashioned, and maybe a bit too mushy, but it’s true. I’m not one to be an asshole to the one who means the most to me. Especially when I never know how long we’ll have together in a lifetime.”
“It’s not mushy.” She kisses my hand. “And I was thinking just last night that I’m done wasting time, Lucien. What we have is too precious to waste. If you want me to move into your home, our home, with you, I will. Sanguine and I can move over today, and we can slowly shift the majority of my things over a little at a time.”
“I’ll hire movers,” I suggest.
“We have a coven of people who’d love to help,” she reminds me. “And I’ll take them up on it. We’ll make it work.”
“Thank you.” I park in front of Daphne’s store, cut the engine, and turn to Millie. “I mean it.”
“I know.” We lean in and kiss, then nuzzle noses before getting out of the car and walking to the front door of Reflections, Daphne’s antique store. Brielle unlocks the door and lets us in.
“Everyone’s here,” she says as we follow her to a little cluster of couches on the showroom floor where Cash is already seated. Brielle joins her husband, and Millie and I sit on a green velvet sofa across from them. Daphne paces the room, chewing on her thumbnail.
“You okay, Daph?” Millie asks.
“I’m agitated,” she replies.