Heart of Fire: a Moonbound World series (Witches of Whitewood Book 1) (16 page)

The door pulled closed, and Kyle came back to stand in front of her with a huge smile on his face. “Well, that was maybe the weirdest sex of my life.” He scratched his fingers across his forehead and sighed.

“Weirder than river sex?” Jamie said, tracing her finger up his abdomen. “Weirder than tent sex?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Juke box sex is definitely the weirdest.”

She felt a laugh bubble up from deep inside her and she collapsed against him as they laughed together. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew herself up his body, hanging against him.

Something about this felt so right, Jamie didn’t care where they’d been when they had sex. And she certainly didn’t care that someone had almost caught them. Of all the places they’d had sex in the last several days, this was the most un-public.

“We’re moving up in the world,” she said against his neck. “Next time, it might even be in a house. In a bed.” She kissed the hot skin below his ear. “And there may not even be anyone else in that house.”

Kyle rubbed his hands down her back. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Jamie pulled back and looked in his eyes. That familiar deep blue with that familiar twinkly sparkle.
He
was becoming known to her. She almost knew what to expect from him, and she liked that. She liked the feeling of comfort he brought. “In the end,” she said, “Whether there was magick involved or not doesn’t really matter.” She traced her finger down the side of his face and touched his lips before she kissed them. “You’re a good man, Kyle Harris.”

“So, I take it, this means that I don’t get to make Brady make fire in his hand anymore.” A touch of a smile in his voice brought out the laughter inside her as well.

“You can ask my brother to do whatever you want.” The tingle of regret in her chest made her pull back from Kyle. “I’ve been avoiding my mom since we were all in the kitchen.”

“I think she’s here now,” he said, nodding toward the bar. “At least, she rode here with Brady.”

Jamie ran her tongue around her mouth and considered that information. Did she want to talk to her mother? She’d rather just relax in the store room on the uncomfortable juke box and have more sex with Kyle.

“I should go find her,” she said, kissing him again. The warmth of his lips made her want to sink right back into him and never leave. But she had work to do.

He bent down to retrieve her pants and panties. “Maybe we should get dressed first.”

She smacked his shoulder and took her clothes. It wasn’t easy to eat humble pie, but she’d been thinking about her mother, and why she’d done what she had. It was time to forgive her and move on.

If Mom was right, and Fate had a hand in everything, then Fate had used magick to bring her and Kyle together, which meant that Fate had used Mattie Banfield to do work that wouldn’t have otherwise been done.

It also meant Fate had brought Jamie to the Banfield family. And if magick was real, then Fate was real.

And her whole life, she’d known that she could trust Fate. So why would this be any different?

M
attie Banfield wiped
the bits of onion off the prep counter and into the bowl. She glanced up at Caleb Gallagher, who was standing over the grill with his wife. A smile crept up on her and she indulged it.

She’d known Caleb since she was a girl, since long before the white woods, and while the families had stayed mostly apart for her whole life, once the old Alpha of Caleb’s pack had passed away and Caleb became the Alpha himself, Mattie hadn’t been so much of a pariah.

She liked for the trail riders to spend their last night—the big Date Night—of the Singles’ rides at Caleb’s restaurant, the
Blue Moon
. Not because it was particularly amazing, but because it had that old West charm. Lamps made out of cowboy hats, chairs and tables from the seventies, a menu that would have made Guy Fieri proud.

The
Blue Moon
was Americana at its best. And Caleb employed his family there, so Mattie always felt like she was getting double duty out of the money they spent. On one hand, giving her clients a taste of rural life. On the other hand, supporting a friend.

Caleb and Gretchen were what the werewolves called Fated Mates, and every time Mattie saw them together, she understood exactly why they called it that. They’d been married for thirty-seven years, and Caleb still smiled whenever Gretchen walked into a room. He still pinched her ass when she walked by him at the grill. He still got growly and possessive when someone spoke ill of her in his presence.

They had everything Mattie had ever wanted.

“You’re crying.” Gretchen Gallagher passed her a white kitchen towel and glanced back at her husband. “That’s why I usually make him do the onions.” She waved at her eyes. “No mascara.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine.” Mattie wiped away the moisture. She hadn’t been crying because of the onions, but Gretchen didn’t need to know that.

As far as they knew, everything was copacetic in the Banfield household. Caleb was a little nosy when it came to Jamie and Paul because they were his family—although neither Jamie nor Paul knew that. As far as they were concerned, the Gallaghers were nice, if somewhat secretive family friends.

Even Brady didn’t know Caleb was a wolf. Let alone the other Gallaghers—some of whom he’d gone to school with. He didn’t know wolves existed at all, as far as she knew, and if he did, he hadn’t heard it from her. Some things weren’t meant for everyone’s ears.

“Thanks for offering to help out, Mats,” he said, clapping her on the back. “When you guys come in here, it’s every man for himself. Bein’ Friday night and all.”

Mattie dipped her knife into the soapy water and scrubbed the little bits of onion skin away, careful to wipe down and away from the sharp edge of the blade. She dried it on the nearest clean towel and slid it into the blade cover, then into the drawer.

The number of times she’d worked in this kitchen gave her more than a passing familiarity, and she turned toward the dinging bell when one of the servers came to the window.

Caleb had shimmied his way up to the pass-through and he grabbed the ticket off the rack.

“Another T-bone, Mats,” he said with a click of his tongue. “Your people certainly get their money’s worth.”

“Well, the only good thing on the menu is the steak,” she said with a ribbing smile.

Caleb smacked Gretchen’s ass and laughed. “Fire another steak, baby, and burn it this time.”

Mattie sunk her hands into the dish water and found a dirty plate. She was making quick work of the dishes when she saw her daughter’s face out the corner of her eye. She froze, with her hands in the hot water, and the smell of bleach from the other sink made her cough.

The Alpha turned around and a bright smile lit his rugged features. “Well, Jamie Banfield. As I live and breathe.”

“Hi, Uncle Caleb,” she said, sliding into his side and hugging him. The words still pinged Mattie’s heart when she said them, like Jamie knew the truth. But she didn’t. In the absence of real uncles, Jamie had latched on to the Gallaghers.

If she only knew.

Jamie had on these dressy white jeans and a flowy top that made her dark hair even more radiant against her wardrobe. Jamie was so beautiful, it sometimes stopped Mattie’s heart. She would have slit throats to be that beautiful at Jamie’s age. Or any age. But she was the spitting image of her biological mother.

Mattie looked at Caleb.
I wonder if he sees it
. But if he did, he didn’t show it.

“Have you met the new cook on the ranch
?
” Her daughter pulled Kyle forward and the two cooks shook hands.

“I hear you’re a proper chef, though,” Caleb said. “I should’ve put you to work and let Mattie take a load off.”

Kyle’s smile was somber, gentle, and he made quick eye-contact with her. She could tell by their body language that they’d at least sorted out some of their own
will-they-or-won’t-they
, but how Jamie would handle Mattie’s own secret-keeping…another story.

“Mattie does need to take a load off.” Kyle pointed to the sink. “Why don’t you let me wash those dishes? I think Jamie wants to talk to you.”

Mattie wiped her hands on her apron and untied it from around her neck. She passed it to Kyle. “You’re going to need this, though. Caleb is a messy cook.”

She caught the Alpha’s eye, and he gave her a hard, narrow look. It wasn’t about the cooking comment. Anything that had to do with Jamie, Caleb was on the lookout for. She hadn’t wanted him to know that her daughter knew about the magick, because that would bring up a whole new set of issues that Mattie just couldn’t work up the stomach to deal with at the moment.

With as wide a smile as she could manage, she passed between Caleb and Gretchen, following Jamie out the kitchen. “Everything’s fine,” she whispered. “Don’t worry.”

But if Caleb was any judge of body language at all, he’d be able to tell, just like Mattie could, that everything wasn’t fine.

Jamie was still mad.

They walked all the way out of the kitchen, through the back hall, and into the cool night. Mattie didn’t want there to be any way that Caleb and his enhanced hearing could get wind of the fight she and Jamie would probably be having.

When the door closed, her daughter stood against it, her arms crossed.

Not a good sign.

“I think the magick is gone.”

“It should be,” Mattie said, a hopeful note in her voice.

“Kyle still loves me.”

“I knew he would.”

Jamie tapped her fingers on her arm. “And I still love him.”

Something jumped in Mattie’s chest and tears pressed behind her eyes. “I knew you would,” she said.

Whether Jamie could’ve admitted it or not, that had been the big question.

Her eyes took on a sheen of their own as she looked up at the blue neon sign that hovered over the building on stilts. She cleared her throat. “I wish you hadn’t lied to me.”

“I know.” Mattie’s voice shook just enough that her daughter looked back at her. “I didn’t want to hurt you. But if you knew the whole story…”

“That’s just the thing,” Jamie said. “I don’t know if I want to know the whole story.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “You don’t want to know?”

“I don’t think so.” Jamie pressed back hard against the door. “I’ve had some time to think about it. I know that you were trying to protect us all from something, but you seem to think that, whatever it was, it’s gone now.” She swallowed and her lashes drew down as she closed her eyes. “I love you, Mom. And I know that Fate makes things happen for a reason. I don’t want to do anything to mess up what we have.” Her voice quavered and she clapped her mouth shut.

Mattie stepped forward and into her daughter’s now-open arms.

They clutched at each other for a long moment and Jamie whispered, “I trust you.”

The pressure in her chest threatened to split her in two. She tightened her grip and held Jamie close enough, it seemed to alleviate some of that tension.

Jamie was right, of course. There was a threat out there. But as long as they could stay hidden, they’d be safe. And with the Gallaghers around, if anything did ever happen, they’d at least have allies.

She might not be able to tell her daughter the truth, but there was a lot of freedom in being able to acknowledge the role that magick played in Mattie’s life, and in Brady’s. It would make for a life with less barriers.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Mattie said. “I would rather that you went your whole life without knowing, because it would’ve meant that we could finally leave magick behind us.”

“I know.” Jamie smoothed her hand up and down her back. “I wasn’t thinking clearly the other day. I was freaked.”

“I promise I won’t do any magick on the ranch anymore.”

She pulled back and her green eyes had narrowed, almost in anger. “No, Mom. You do what you want. That’s the point of all this, right. You need to do what you think you’re supposed to do with your gift.” Jamie waved her hand toward the ranch. “And if that means you’re supposed to help people fall in love, then that’s what you do.”

Mattie’s throat closed up a little, the emotion was so great. This was more than she’d ever hoped for. Having Jamie know about the magick, and accept the role it might play in their lives.

She likely had Brady and Kyle to thank for this one. Or just Jamie’s better, saner side. For a girl who had a magick family, to have no magick in her, it would have been torture to always be faced with what she couldn’t have and couldn’t do.

That had been the whole reason Jamie and Paul came to be with Mattie in the first place. To keep them away from magick.

And as much as she was grateful for Jamie’s understanding, Mattie was also not looking forward to the day when she was going to have to tell Caleb Gallagher that she’d failed the one task she’d been given.

To keep magick out of Jamie’s life, and out of Paul’s life.

To never let them know that they were missing out on something that should have been theirs.

Mattie slid her hand onto her daughter’s cheek and rested it there. Jamie had such echoes of her birth mother in her face, and Gabrielle had been one of the most beautiful women that Mattie had ever seen.

It was nice to know that, while Jamie hadn’t inherited her mother’s nature, she had inherited her grace.

“This is a proud day for me,” she finally managed. “I’m gaining another son.”

“Whoa, now, Mom.” Jamie’s eyes went wide and she backed up. “Don’t go buying the bassinets just yet.”

“You’re not certain that Kyle is the one for you?”

A sudden somberness passed over her daughter’s face. She shook her head. “That’s not it. I know that I’ve found my person. I just…I want life to unfold like it’s supposed to.”

“So you’re not planning a wedding yet.”

“Give me time.” Her voice was so soft, so solid, Mattie knew there was a new wisdom behind those young eyes. “It will happen.”

She smiled and looped her arm through Jamie’s. “We should get back inside to your sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart,” she said, laying her head on Mattie’s shoulder. “I like that word.”

“I do, too, my girl.” Mattie kissed her hair and opened the door to the Gallagher’s restaurant. “I do, too.”

* * *

* * *

A
dam VonBrandt heard
footsteps in the hall and resumed his pensive-stare-out-the-window look. For good measure, he hoisted the heavy snifter of his brother’s sixty-year Macallan Scotch off the windowsill. If this wasn’t the perfect image of the tortured ex, he didn’t know what was.