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The girls plunged the roasting tongs into the fireplace to burn off the remaining sugar goo, and Elspeth collected the empty wine glasses and bottles, saying, “You don’t need to rush off, Mom. You’re always welcome to stay.”
“I’ve got a warm bed and that Gloria Sebastian novel you suggested waiting for me. The moon’s power doesn’t do it for me like it does for all of you. The closest I get to magic is a good night’s sleep and a strong cup of coffee,” Nanna said.
“Goodnight, Nanna,” Maggie said, hugging her and drawing in some love. Nanna wasn’t a witch, but she was a powerful source of love in the Buchanan family, and nothing was more magical or powerful than love.
Nanna looked at her closely, scrutinizing her. Maggie worried she had s’more goo around her mouth. “I take back my patience lecture. If it’s Lucas you’re interested in, then go after him. In a little over a month, you’ve gone from clawing his eyes out like a feral cat to wanting to cuddle on him like a kitten. He probably doesn’t know which way is up, so it’s up to you to show him. You don’t get what you don’t ask for.” She gave Maggie one more big squeeze as she finished her mini-lecture.
Maggie watched Nanna walk toward the house. Her gait was slower as she carried the tray through the small side yard on its uneven path, a path they discussed leveling out and installing stone pavers on each year, but they never got around to it. We’ll do it this spring. As a surprise, Maggie whispered, tipping her head toward the moon, and settling her ample backside on the trampled grass to ground her as they began their monthly ritual to recharge their energies.
You don’t get what you don’t ask for. Nanna’s words rang in her head as she and Penny silently drove home later that evening. I want to kiss Lucas and I want Brewster’s. But those desires wouldn’t come to her. Manifesting them wasn’t enough. She needed to add action to the want to make progress.
Maggie needed to shove Lucas out of the friend zone and she needed to talk to someone in her family about a loan. But how? And who? Problems to be solved tomorrow, she thought, yawning widely, and turning off the bedside lamp as George curled into her side. Recharging her batteries always left her drained.
Chapter 17
“What do you think, George?” Maggie examined her face in the bathroom mirror, turning from side to side. He sat on the edge of the sink, studying her.
I don’t think he’ll notice your face. He walked over and knocked his head against her chest. Test, he warned, before batting her smoky eye shadow kit to the floor and jumping down, tail held high as he strutted out of the room. Maggie growled as she cleaned up the mess he left behind.
She fluffed her hair, hoping the curls held, and pulled her sweater down. She frowned and plucked at the top, raising the neckline. It was a deeper V-neck, and she usually wore a camisole underneath it, but without the cami, there was just a hint of cleavage, she told herself.
Hint? George stuck his head back into the bathroom. That’s a full-on declaration.
You’re right. She frowned at her reflection.
I always am.
Maggie stripped off the sweater as she walked to her room. Better to wear the cami. If he’s not interested, it will make everything awkward between us. Maggie grabbed the cream-colored cami with the shimmery lace and carefully slipped it over her head. The doorbell buzzed, and she saw Lucas’s face in her security app. He looked nervous. That was good, right? Her finger swiped across the phone and the third-floor door opened for him. He disappeared off her screen and Maggie quickly slid back into the dark brown sweater. The color made her eyes look browner and her hair a richer shade of red, and Maggie felt a little more confident.
Better, George judged from his perch on top of the refrigerator as she walked in.
“Be good,” Maggie warned him, as she wiped her hands down her jeans. Sensing Lucas’s presence, she opened the door to a gigantic bouquet. Lucas peered around it and grinned at her.
“Hi. These are for you,” he said, handing them over. Maggie let her fingers brush against his longer than necessary.
Well, I didn’t think they were for me. George licked his front paw and Maggie narrowed her eyes at him in warning.
“Are you okay with cats?” she asked as she ushered Lucas in. “Because if you aren’t, I’m more than happy to lock him in my bedroom.” George stopped mid-lick as Lucas reached up and scratched him under the chin, exactly where George liked it best.
“No. I like cats.” George jumped onto Lucas’s shoulder, purring and rubbing against him. “Dogs are better, but cats have their place.” He smiled at Maggie, before quickly grabbing his ear, screeching, “Ow!” as George ran down Lucas’s back.
Maggie pulled Lucas’s head down and moved his hand off his ear. “No blood,” she said, as his hands dropped to her waist. His fingers clenched as she brushed her fingers over his reddened ear. “I think you can keep it.” Her fingers trailed across his neck and shoulder, and he tightened his grip.
“That’s good. I’d look silly with one ear,” he teased, but there was no humor in his eyes. “What’s your hell-cat’s name?” he asked, in a gravelly voice she didn’t recognize.
“George.”
The corners of his mouth twitched up. “Cat, eh? You practice in front of your cat, George, not your boyfriend, George?” Maggie remembered her kind-a-sort-a lie to him.
“Sorry.”
“I’m not,” he said, bending his head closer to hers. Maggie closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of him. He smelled like the forest after a rain with a hint of smoke and a dash of secrets.
Test. The bouquet hit the floor, and Maggie jumped out of his arms. George sat on the counter with his head cocked, the picture of innocence. You should take care of those before something else happens to them.
“I should get these in water. Go make yourself comfortable,” she said.
“Dinner smells delicious. Can I help with anything?” Lucas asked, straddling one of her bar stools.
