“Be careful, Valerie,” Leo said.
The call froze on their resigned expressions before cutting out completely. I tucked the folder under my arm and slipped into my shoes before boarding the elevator back to my office.
I slumped into my chair and stared out the window at the cityscape. The sun peeked between the gray clouds like a hopeful beacon. A sign for a Sunbelt agent, if I ever saw one.
The folder sat in my lap, the details inside making the tiniest spark of hope catch in my chest. I could outwit a troublesome spirit. I was practically battle-hardened after years of dealing with Grant. Okay, there was the whole fear factor, and the tiny detail that every other agent had failed, and one had landed inthe hospital. But I didn’t have the luxury of failure. I wouldn’t last another year at the agency without my power.
I glanced at my computer, the company screensaver sliding through photos just as the image of Grant and me materialized, his arm wrapped around my waist beneath the luau arch.
My heart squeezed. Memories of that trip still left me off-balance. There’d been moments between our usual hostility that had bled into something deeper. Moments I kept replaying against my better judgment.
I still thought about that almost-kiss on the beach. Worse, I missed that fleeting spark when his magic had poured into me during the rainstorm. It had been warmth and something dangerously close to intimacy. He'd said I always reminded him that we were enemies, but we hadn't been that day.
I’d never admit it out loud, but sometimes I wished we'd kissed. At least then I could've stopped pretending I didn't care, and proved, once and for all, that feeling anything for Grant Delaney was a mistake.
Well played, Universe.I really needed to get that photo deleted and all traces of it erased from the cloud. But more than that, I needed out of my marriage.
This Christmas.
Before I tricked my brain into thinking that one flash of heat in the rain meant it might be worth giving us a try.
The old woman’s voice from the magic shop drifted through my mind.End what’s empty, and your heart will bloom again.
I wasn't much for riddles, but getting rejected by Grant for evenattemptingto play house, didn't seem like the path topersonal growth.
We had to end it, and this case was the answer. The inn was only a few hours’ drive outside the city. I could head up there this weekend.
I drummed my fingers on the file and frowned. I was definitely going to need to make another trip to the magic shop. The old woman might not have crystals to ward off winter weather, but hopefully, she had something to repel ghosts.
I shuddered. The things I do to restore my faith in love. I should really just get a dog.
Chapter 12
Grant
My coffee had gonecold in its mug, matching the weather outside the window. The icy wind was doing its best to drown out the city traffic.
It’s been unusually stormy this winter.
I groaned, replaying the conversation I’d had with Valerie in the elevator. Somehow, I’d managed to screw up being enemies, and now I turned into a meteorologist every time she was within three feet of me. Funny how Valerie had become an on-paper member of my family, and with that came the same uncomfortable silences and disjointed conversations the Delaneys were known for.
The only relationship in my life that had any substance was now as lifeless as a nutcracker standing guard by a roaring fireplace.
Necessary, I supposed.
I thought hiding our magical marriage would be simple; all we had to do was act normal. Instead, I’d traded sparring with Valerie for a war against the mailroom and my email filters.
A shimmer of gold-foil script caught my eye among the morning’s paperwork. It was the third cream-colored attackthis week. The wordsSacred Spell Resort: Rekindle Your Bondflowed in looping cursive across the back of the envelope.
I exhaled through my teeth, snatched it up, and fed it through the shredder unopened. Then I opened my laptop and cleared my inbox. The resort’s emails kept coming, no matter how many wards I set or domains I blocked. Magical spam. It was the bane of my existence.
If my grandfather saw one of those letters, or if IT flagged the surge in emails getting through the filters, I was finished. The Miracle Agency’s fill-in golden boy, undone by a honeymoon brochure.
My inbox pinged, and I slammed my laptop shut. We’d survived one year of this mess. I had no idea how we’d survive another.
The morning dragged. I was on coffee number two when I noticed the commotion outside my office. Valerie was handing out seashells wearing tiny Santa hats, placing them one by one on every desk, along with a Christmas card.
“Always a Sunbelter,” I muttered under my breath.
