“We’ve done more than enough for today, Emma. Give this bag to Cooper and let’s see how it works.” She passes it back. It pulses against my palm as images of Cooper and me flash across my mind. Us hand in hand at the beach, in his father’s car, on his boat, or just hanging out in his room, they’re like little video snippets of some of our happiest times together. And they’re literally in my hand.
It’s time to show Cooper how powerful my love is.
Chapter Three
A laugh, high-pitched and overly enthusiastic, carries into the kitchen from the living room.
The hair on the back of my neck rises. Something’s up.
A surge of reserve energy jolts my system, bolting me upright. Clutching the gris-gris bag, I slip off my stool and push open the swinging door.
Taneea is perched on the couch facing Cooper, her legs tucked beneath her, leaning as close as possible without falling into his lap. At least she’s finally taken off those ridiculous boots.
Now I’m awake.
“You’re hilarious.” She swats his biceps.
“Uh, thanks.” Wedged against the end of the couch, his expression is a mixture of panic and pure horror.
“I know. He’s a total crack up. He’s always leaving me and my brother in stitches.” I cross my arms and give her the evil eye to clue her into the fact he’s my boyfriend and off-limits.
Cooper leaps off the cushion and bolts to my side. “Emma! How’d everything go in there?” He slips an arm around my waist and reaches for my hand, which I gladly grasp.
I smile extra-wide. “Great, as usual.” Hopefully.
“Ready to go, then?” His light blue eyes plead, letting me know this isn’t a request.
“Yeah, sure.” I stifle a yawn, a remnant of casting the
“It was great to meet you, Taneea. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this summer,” he says, ever the southern gentleman.
“I bet we will.” Her lips crack into a wicked grin as she twirls a pink curl around her finger. Peeling her eyes away from him she glances at me. “And you too, Emma.”
“Sure.” I stifle a snicker. As if she’s got a chance with Cooper.
Turning toward the kitchen I pop open the kitchen door. “We’re leaving, Miss Delia. See you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything.”
She rolls her wheelchair into the living room. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ve got my great-granddaughter here now. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
With a grunt, Taneea pushes off the couch and skulks toward one of the back rooms.
…
A half hour later, Cooper and I are sitting on the private beach at High Point Bluff, his family’s plantation, breathing in the balmy salt air. The late afternoon sun is idyllic as it shimmers off the teal-green water of St. Helena Sound. As usual, I’ve kicked off my flip-flops and dug my toes into the toasty sand, hunting for the cool, moist grains below the surface.
Cooper leans close and nuzzles my neck. “I couldn’t wait to get out of there.”
I snort. “Really? Cause it looked like you and Taneea were getting along so well.”
“It did?” He pulls back, his eyes fill with alarm.
“I’m kidding.”
He laughs; his spicy pine scent fills my nose as he plants a kiss behind my ear, sending a wave of tingles over my body. “Good, because I wouldn’t want to give her the wrong idea. I mean, she’s hot and all, but she’s definitely not my type.”
Wait. Did he just say she’s hot? As in…attractive?
I lean away. “You think she’s good-looking?” My brow knits.
“Well, sort of. In kind of a hot-mess sort of way.”
My heart seizes. “For real?”
He gulps. “Uh, yeah?” Only he sounds a whole lot less sure of himself now that he’s admitted it out loud. “I mean, her clothes and hair are all about attracting a guy’s attention and well, she does.”
I look down at my stone-colored twill shorts and scoop neck T-shirt. Boring. Then to my beat-up leather flip-flops. Even more boring. But they’re me. The wildest I ever get is a peasant blouse and bohemian skirt. I couldn’t pull off short shorts if I tried.
Staring out onto the Sound, I watch an osprey dive-bomb the water feet first, then ascend into the air with a fish clutched between its curved talons. I’m feeling about as optimistic as that trout.
He nudges me in the side with his elbow. “Hey, did you hear
Ah, there it is, finally. My real name. He’s the only one who uses it, except for my parents and that’s only when I’m in serious trouble, which is practically never. Brushing a long strand of strawberry-blonde hair off my face, he tucks it behind my ear as his powder-blue eyes search mine. “You always have been.”
My heart skips a beat. “Really?” My voice flutters as my knees turn to rubber. It’s a good thing I’m already sitting because otherwise, I’d collapse onto the sand.
He nods. “Yes.”
His lips graze mine and all my silly, stupid fears slip away. I should know better than to worry about his feelings for me. Especially since we’ve got a much bigger, and very real, problem to deal with. The Beaumont Curse looms, destined to turn him dark and depraved. Which reminds me about the gris-gris bag that’s stuffed in my messenger bag.
Clearing my throat, I dig out the mojo. “Miss Delia and I made this for you.” I dangle the necklace with the tiny white pouch before him. “It’s a black magic
He drapes it over his head then tucks it under his shirt. “Thanks.” He smiles and I swear for a half a nanosecond, he seems to glow. But it must be a trick of the afternoon light because it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. Or maybe I’m still suffering under the effects of working the spell.
“It’s probably not enough to break the curse on its own, but it should offer some protection while Miss Delia works on a permanent cure.”
He clutches my hand. “If it doesn’t work—”
I shake my head. “It’ll work. Or the next one will. Or the one after that.”
He clasps my hand. “I hope that’s true. But if every spell fails, I want you to know I’m going to fight this thing with all I’ve got. I don’t want to turn out like my father and all the Beaumont men before him.” His gorgeous lips grimace as if his mouth is filled with bile. “My choice has to matter for something. I don’t want to be greedy and selfish, arrogant and destructive. That’s not me.” Not to mention his father’s gluttonous appetite, ginormous girth, and less-than-stellar hygiene. Those are definitely worth avoiding as well.
Nodding, I meet his gaze. “I know it isn’t.” I place my palm on his chest and feel his heart pump beneath my hand. “You’re a good person. The best I know. That’s why I’m going to do everything I can to keep you that way.” Including pray for a miracle.
“I swear to you, Emmaline, I won’t leave you. I’m going to be around for as long as you can stand me.” Gathering me in his arms, he leans forward then dips his head as his mouth meets mine. Shivers race over my flesh. Edging closer to deepen our kiss, I feel the hint of stubble above his firm but tender lips. We could do this all evening.
“Then I’m going to be pretty busy, because I’m planning on having you around for a while.” I kiss him again and snuggle close.
Something tugs on the fabric of my shorts. Glancing down, I notice my pocket is stretched toward his. The two pieces of clothing stick together in the most massive case of static cling I’ve ever seen.
