A Little Bite of Magic (Little Magic) (13 page)

He was surprised when a cold sleeping body fell over the threshold into his hallway. Frankie’s breath caught in his throat.

“Addie! How long have you been out here?” He dragged a rather stunned-looking Addison into the apartment and dropped kisses all over his face.

“Um, this morning? I don’t know how long,” Addison said groggily.

His poor baby looked tired and stiff.

“Come inside and lie down. I’m going to put you to bed for a while." Frankie rubbed at Addison's hands. "You’re freezing!”

“Frankie,” he mumbled. “So glad you’re home. I’m sorry. Love you.” Addison’s voice was thin and tired.

“It’s okay. Just come and sleep.”

“I wasn’t engaged. Not anymore. She just wouldn’t leave me alone. I told her…”

Frankie helped Addison into bed, nowhere near as soft and wonderful as Addison’s but so much better now that Addison was in it. He tugged the covers over his shivering lover and kissed him on the forehead.

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you at first. It just sounded so…”

“Believable?” Addison rolled over and opened his eyes all the way. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I love you, not her. You.”

Addison held the covers up in invitation. Frankie crawled underneath with him, jeans and all. “What happened with you and your fiancée…Julia?”

“Good memory.”

Frankie huffed out a mirthless chuckle. “I doubt I’ll forget much about this morning for a long time. So, truth. What happened?”

Addison shrugged. “I’m gay, or at least slightly bi with a very strong lean in the male direction.”

“That I know. How did you end up engaged to a woman if you’re not very interested in them?”

“It was easier than having the conversation a million times.”

“What conversation?”

“The one where all her friends were married and she hated being single and basically we looked good together and she liked to put us in matching sweaters. She knows I like men. It was just…convenient? But not really for me.” Addison didn't really know how to explain his life up until the day he met Frankie. He could barely explain it to himself.

Frankie choked. “You’re not serious. You can’t be serious. Matching sweaters?”

“Yeah. A few of her couple friends have matching everything—same pants, same sweaters, same cars.”

“Why bother? It’s like being with yourself. How boring.”

“That’s what I thought. I rarely said it out loud, though. That tended to get me in trouble.”

“And you broke up with her for me?”

“For myself, really. But, yeah, because I met you. I wanted to fall in love, for real, not in matching-sweater land. I wanted what I saw…”

Frankie kissed him to bring him back. “What you saw where?”

“I was on the way into my place one night, and I saw these two guys on a stoop kissing like they couldn’t breathe without each other’s lips. I wanted that for myself, if only just one time.”

“And that’s where I came along.”

“Yeah, but one time wasn’t enough. I wanted it again and again, and then I wanted it always.”

Frankie remembered what Addison had asked him the other night.
Stay…

“You still want me to move in? Even after all this?”

Addison slid his hands under Frankie’s shirt and pulled it over his head. He kissed Frankie’s face, his neck, the thin skin of his eyelids. “How could I not?"

* * * *

Frankie woke up early the next morning to the sound of Addison arguing on the phone. He was trying to do it softly, Frankie could tell, but even on the other side of the bathroom door he could heard the mumble of the conversation get louder until Addison stalked out of the bathroom and threw his phone down (on the bed, of course, so as not to ruin it). He flopped down and sighed.

“Mother?”

Addison gave Frankie a wry grin. “How’d you know?”

“You’ve got a horrible case of Mom face.”

“Mom face, huh? You probably won't have to deal with that for a while.”

Frankie grimaced. “After what happened in Louisiana, she’s going to be lying low for a long time. I think Jean probably ripped into her pretty good when he got back from dropping me off here.” He'd given Addison a short sketch of what had happened the day before. Details—well, he was saving those for later.

“I still can’t believe that. You went to Louisiana, argued with your mom, almost got married, argued with her some more, were rescued by Jean and back here in, what? A few hours?”

“Not even that long. Plus, I didn’t almost get married. I couldn’t have.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Frankie said slowly. Apparently later had come. “There’s this thing that happens when a witch chooses a mate. They can only do it with a few potential people, and I, um, did it accidentally, but…”

“Frankie. What?”

“I bonded myself to you, okay? I didn’t mean to do it without your permission. I don’t even know when it happened. But when Laurent went to bond himself to me, he said he couldn’t. He could feel that I’d already bonded with someone else. You.”

Frankie flinched. It wasn’t every day that a person finds out they got accidentally married, and Addison wasn’t the best with change. He was surprised by the big grin he got followed by a long, sweetly sloppy kiss.

“Does that mean you’re mine forever? You can’t get rid of me?”

Frankie nodded. “I guess technically, we could date other people if it came to that, but I can’t bond with anyone else, and if you ever met another witch, you couldn’t bond with them either. That much is permanent. It won't, um, feel like this with anyone else.”

"I don't want it to." Addison kissed him again. “And I like permanent. Especially if it comes with you.” Frankie couldn’t help giving him another long kiss. Addison finally pulled back. He looked a bit nervous. “So I have a confession too. That was my mother on the phone.”

“Yeah, I know.” Not much of a confession.

“Um, well, she’s coming over here for dinner.”

Frankie drew back. “Are you sure you want to do that, babe? It didn’t go so well last time, and I don’t want you to get hurt if she still disapproves. You know that’s likely.”

“I know. She's my only family, and I have to try. I think I kind of shook her up yesterday when I yelled at her. She seems…a little different. Maybe more ready to at least admit that you and I aren't a figment of my imagination." Addison paused. "So you’re not mad about dinner?”

“Course not. She’s your mother, and I’ve been disapproved of my whole life by my own family anyway. I’m used to it. I just want you to be happy.”

"With you around, I doubt that will be a problem."

Chapter Ten

“That’s it!” Frankie plopped the last box of his stuff on Addison’s dining room table. Not just Addison’s anymore. His too. It had been a hell of a two weeks, working, packing, throwing away useless crap he’d accumulated. It was worth it.

“Addison?” His voice rang out in the empty condo. That’s when he saw the note.

Welcome home, baby! Today it’s officially yours too. Ours. I went to the store to get some wine to celebrate. Be back in twenty. Love you.

—A

Frankie touched the corner of the letter with his finger, as if he could feel where Addison had held the paper down to write. It might have been sentimental of him, but he folded up the note and slipped it into his wallet—a memento of his first day living with Addison. He didn’t plan to ever leave. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Do you want Brie or Gouda for the crackers?” Addison spoke without introduction. He didn’t need one anymore. Frankie smiled.
Aww. Just like our first date
. It hadn’t been that long ago, but it seemed like forever.

“Are you buying grapes too?” he teased.

Frankie could hear Addison’s grin through the phone. “Green and red.”

“You’re a dork, but I love you. Get home. We’ve got some wine to drink.”

“Oooh, are you going to get out the good kind?” Addison knew about Frankie’s stash of fey wine. They kept it hidden in case of visitors. That wasn’t something that regular folks needed to get into unawares.

“I’ll get out the good wine and get a picnic blanket ready.”

“Will you be naked?”

Frankie feigned shock. “It’s still light out!”

“Naked. Ten minutes tops.”

He chuckled. “Yes, sir.”

* * * *

The floor picnic was silly and romantic and the best way that Frankie could think of to celebrate moving in with the man he’d fallen so ridiculously in love with. They fed each other grapes and drank strong fey wine. Frankie lay with his head on Addie’s chest, and they threaded and unthreaded their fingers, watching them glow in the light that crashed beautiful and startlingly pink through the bedroom window, bright from the setting sun.

Eventually they dragged themselves to bed and made love slower and sweeter than they ever had before. It felt like they were in it together forever. Frankie couldn’t stand to believe otherwise. Sleep came easy and swift with his arms around Addison, his leg snuggled between Addison’s muscular thighs. He whispered “I love you” against Addison’s chest and felt, rather than heard, the low rumbling response.

I’m here. I live here. It’s real.

* * * *

That night Frankie dreamed of a house by the ocean. There was a breeze that blew in, soft and salty from the sea, a dog, and a white-and-blue coverlet. He and Addison were cuddled under the coverlet laughing, kissing, and twining gold-ringed left hands together in the sun. But the dream was different this time. Because instead of feeling like it was something that could be, perhaps, if all his stars lined up perfectly…it felt like something that would certainly come to pass.

In his sleep, Frankie smiled.

Loose Id Titles by M.J. O’Shea

A Little Bite of Magic

Dark Sun

* * * *

Co-written with Piper Vaughn

The LUCKY MOON Series

Moonlight Becomes You

The Luckiest

Moonstruck

M.J. O’Shea

MJ grew up, and still lives, in sunny Washington state and while she loves to visit other places, she can't imagine calling anywhere else home. MJ spent her childhood writing stories. Sometime in her early teens, the stories turned to romance. Most of those stories were about her, her friends, and their favorite cute TV stars. She hopes she’s come a long way since then…

When MJ’s not writing, she loves to play the piano and cook and paint pictures, and of course read.  She likes sparkly girly girl things, owns at least twenty different colored headbands, and she has a little white dog with a ginger eye spot who sits with her when she writes. Sometimes the dog comes up with the best ideas for her stories…when she's not busy napping.

Links to reach MJ O'Shea:

Web site: http://www.mjoshearomance.com

Blog: http://mjoshea.com

Email: [email protected]