Must Be Magic (Spellbound) (2 page)

“You two aren’t actually trying to be civil to one another, are you?”

They both turned toward the hopeful voice. To their left Bree stood barefoot next to Finn, both of them looking relaxed and happy. Only the faint lines around Finn’s eyes betrayed his suspicion that
civil
wasn’t the word he’d use to describe any interaction with Bryce.

Darby smiled, determined to prevent Finn from acting on that suspicion. Most times, her younger brother—younger only by a year and a half, as he frequently reminded her—was as protective as her twin, and she wouldn’t let him do anything that might erase the happy glow on Bree’s face.

Knowing exactly how hard her brother had fallen for Bree, who was thankfully nothing like the rest of her family, made it easier to embrace the awkward weekend in store for all of them.

“We’re working on it.” Bryce answered his sister’s question then glanced at Darby as if daring her to disagree.

“What he said.” She could tell by the look on Finn’s face that he wasn’t buying it. “Really,” she added. “Bryce and I are on our way to grab a drink actually.”

There was no hiding Finn’s disbelief now. Even Bree looked a little skeptical, leaving Darby no choice but to follow through when they didn’t take her word for it and continue on to wherever they’d been headed.

Swinging her legs around, Darby straightened, and then Bryce was there, taking her hand and helping her up before she even registered he’d gotten that close.

The second her feet hit the sand, he took a step back. But the damage had been done. There hadn’t been a reason to maintain anything more than eye contact for years, and with one touch, one tightening of his fingers around hers, a wave of heat curled through her.

Afraid that he would know if she looked at him, she bent to scoop up her sandals. Across from her, Finn’s eyes had narrowed, his attention firmly locked on Bryce. Not so surprising. But the thoughtful expression on Bree’s face said she’d picked up on something more than just Bryce getting into Darby’s personal space.

“All set?” She didn’t wait for Bryce to answer, but started walking down the beach. “We’ll see you two later, right?” she called over her shoulder, but carried on before they said anything that would drag things out longer than necessary.

Bryce fell into step beside her, clearly the lesser of two evils right now. Sticking around would give her brother the opportunity see through her insistence that they were making a real effort to get along, or give him the opportunity to pull something on Bryce—

Bryce stumbled, tripping on nothing, but managed to catch himself before he was eating sand.

Straightening up, he shot her an accusing glance.

Gee thanks, Finn.

She didn’t need to look back to verify the satisfied look on her brother’s face. He took far too much pleasure in using his magic to screw around with people.

Usually Finn saved most of it for Reece, the detective their baby sister was involved with. Since Violet was having some complications with her pregnancy and couldn’t fly, Reece had stayed home with her, leaving Finn without anyone to torment.

“Next time I need your help standing up, I’ll ask.” It was the only explanation that would keep Bryce from realizing Finn was the real guilty party and retaliating.

“Fine,” Bryce gritted out.

Just minutes ago she’d felt better, knowing she had annoyed him. Now…not so much.

She sighed. “Forty-eight hours.”

He stared straight ahead. “Agreed.”

“Are they still watching us?”

“No.”

“Okay then.” Without a backward glance, she took a path leading away from the beach, leaving Bryce behind.

But not the sensation that something had just changed between them.

“You’re staring, again.”

Bryce switched his attention from the brunette across the room to the man sitting next to him. “How was your flight?”

Alex Hastings scowled at the half-empty glass in his hand. “That’s just cruel.”

“What, the peanuts didn’t do it for you?” Before the question even left his mouth, he caught his gaze drifting back to Darby.

He’d gotten too used to seeing her in fitted suits and the occasional skirt that offered a nice view of her legs. The navy piece of material she had wrapped around her body now showed off every curve, and was the sole reason he hadn’t moved from his spot at the bar.

She wore her chocolate-brown hair away from her face, except for the few stubborn strands that framed her cheeks, refusing to be contained. God, she was pretty. There was no denying that much, no matter how crazy she made him.

“When I get this cast off, you’re the first person I’m going to annoy the crap out of.” Alex smiled his way through the threat.

Bryce grinned right back at his friend. It wasn’t often he got to push Alex’s buttons. Usually the Tribunal warlock was too busy popping in and out of places with no more than a thought, supposedly to help keep the Calder, Lancaster and Hastings families from abusing their magic.

“That wasn’t your first flight, was it?”

Alex shuddered and finished off his drink. He pushed the glass aside and faced Bryce. “I don’t need to be plugged in to see right through you.”

Plugged in
was Tribunal-speak for the telepathic abilities used by the three-member judge and jury every witch and warlock answered to if they abused their magic. Only a witch or warlock who possessed the rare ability to travel from place to place by thought alone—teleporting—could become part of the Tribunal.

“Are you going to tell me how you broke your leg?” Since magic and illness inevitably ended in disaster, Alex’s broken leg had forced him to travel by plane like everyone else.

“Nope.”

“You weren’t peeking in Violet Calder’s window again, were you?”

Alex snorted. “You’ve met her cop boyfriend. What do you think?”

“Since when do mere mortals intimidate you?”

“I say again, you’ve met her cop boyfriend/soon-to-be father of her child, right?”

Bryce laughed, then catching his attention drifting in Darby’s direction, motioned to the bartender for another drink. “Another for you?”

“Hell yeah. I need something to ease the cranial pressure.”

“Too many of us in one place, huh?” Not even a gift like teleporting was worth having to filter out the many thoughts of the magically inclined wedding guests, as far as Bryce was concerned.

Alex arched a brow. “Could be worse. My family could be here too.” He shuddered.

The Hastings were the polar opposite of Bryce’s family, pushing their twenty-four/seven magic use to the brink and held in check only by the Tribunal. Even though Bryce rarely used his own gift, thoughts of ever having his magic bound by the Tribunal made him shudder.

He took a drink, watching the room. Bree would be happy that everyone was at least being polite. By tomorrow night either the crowd will have given up on being cordial or they’ll be partying.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

He glared at Alex. “No cheating, bro.”

For once Alex actually looked a little apologetic. “Sorry. It’s just easier to concentrate on your thoughts so I’m not getting bombarded by everyone else…” He tipped his head, staring across the room. “Jesus. What is she doing to that dessert?”

Bryce didn’t need to follow Alex’s gaze. “Now who’s staring?”

“You’re seeing what I am, right?”

Bryce toyed with his glass. “She’s enjoying her dessert.”
Savoring
, Darby called it.

“Enjoying it? It’s like she’s giving each bite a blow—”

Pushing to his feet, Bryce stepped into the path of an attractive redhead he’d seen talking to Bree earlier. “Have you met my friend, Alex?” He nodded to the warlock who was frowning at him.

The redhead shyly shook her head.

“I don’t suppose you’d consider doing us a little favor? He’s a little bummed since his broken leg is keeping him over here, away from the action. He fell getting his neighbor’s kitten out of a tree and I think he’s bored of my company.”

The redhead flashed a smile at Alex. “Did it hurt?”

Bryce slipped away from the pair. Halfway across the room he spotted his father standing in the doorway at the back of the waterfront ballroom Bree and Finn were using for tonight’s rehearsal dinner and tomorrow’s reception.

Turning his back on his father, who hopefully hadn’t seen him, he dropped into the closest chair—and opposite Darby.

She slowly pulled her fork out of her mouth, but instead of asking him what he was doing, she merely shrugged and dug her fork back into her chocolate cheesecake. There was no use in trying to look away as she popped another bite into her mouth.

Darby was one of those people who enjoyed dessert almost as much as sex, or so she’d claimed once upon a time. Watching her lick and nibble the cheesecake, holding the flavor in her mouth before finally indulging in another bite and starting the whole process over again would have been considered torture in some countries.

After three mouthfuls, three painfully
long
mouthfuls, during which he seriously contemplated the pros of being a fork, she finally pushed the plate aside.

Thank god.

Darby frowned at him then reached for her napkin. “I have some on my face, don’t I?” She wiped at the corner of her mouth. “And be honest. Our truce covers this kind of thing.”

He poked at the table’s floral centerpiece, one he’d been roped into helping to arrange ten minutes after he’d arrived yesterday. Even his younger brother, Aaron, had helped. The resort looked after everything, but Bree had wanted to put her own finishing touch on a few things.

When Darby noticed him sneaking a glance over his shoulder, she leaned forward. “You’re not hiding from Dante, are you?”

Hide from one of her hard-assed, overprotective brothers? Not a chance. “Your brother is probably too busy brooding over something to have stuck around here any longer than he had to.”

She almost managed to hide her smile. “He’s not that bad.”

“Weren’t you the one who told me he once spent three straight days staring at his ceiling, contemplating why his girlfriend dumped him?”

“He was fourteen.” She laughed, and then, seeming to remember who she was with, stopped and reached for her drink. “So if it’s not Dante you’re avoiding, who is it?”

“My father, actually.”

He didn’t miss the tension that tightened her shoulders. “I didn’t know he was coming.”

“Neither did I.” He’d been counting on the fact his father had sworn he wouldn’t attend a business meeting between a Lancaster and a Calder, let alone a marriage ceremony. When both Bree and Aaron had confirmed their father wouldn’t be coming, he’d thought he was in the clear.

A woman with long black hair and a wild floral-print dress dropped into the chair next to Darby. “You’re not going to believe which Lancaster I just made piss on himself.”

Darby choked on her wine as Riley Calder glanced over at Bryce.

“Oh look, my favorite Lancaster of all. Rip any witnesses a new asshole lately?”

“It’s been slow actually and probably not half as rewarding as getting someone to urinate on themself.” He leaned forward. “Don’t leave me in suspense though, who was the lucky bastard?”

Riley scrunched up her nose. “Your cousin Reginald.”

That’s all he needed to hear. Reggie had likely deserved whatever Riley had done to him and then some. To hear his mother tell it, Reggie’s magic was bound by the Tribunal on a regular basis for some juvenile stunt or another.

“Seems he had a bit too much to drink,” Riley continued. “He decided he should use the veranda outside as his own private urinal.”

Darby cringed. “Not in public.”

“Next closest thing. Pulled down his zipper right next to me and tried to piss over the railing. Such a shame the breeze changed direction all of a sudden.” Looking satisfied with herself, Riley leaned back. “If you look any more disapproving, Bryce, you’re going to need surgery to get that stick out of your ass.”

There was zero point in mentioning that not everyone in the room knew about the bride’s and groom’s magical sides. Like the Hastings, the Calders weren’t nearly as concerned as they should be about someone noticing the suspicious glow from their amulets.

Magic would only protect them so much if the government or any other agency discovered what they could do and was determined to find a way to harness that kind of power for themselves.

Bryce stood. “I think that’s my cue.”

Darby looked like she was going to say something, but only reached for her wine.

Not seeing his father by the door any longer, Bryce took a chance and stepped outside, sticking to the right side of the veranda. Hopefully, well away from where he imagined his cousin had made an ass out of himself.

Bree had probably been counting on the wedding location to stop Reggie from accepting the invitation. Even Bryce’s father wouldn’t have supported inviting their wayward cousin. The risk for embarrassment trumped even his sense of family obligation.