It’s just that last night, when he opened up about his parents, I felt a connection with him. Yes, it was unwanted, but it wasstill there, and I thought that maybe, maybe Devlin isn’t who I’ve been thinking he is.
Well that went up in smoke this morning. First thing.
Thank the gods it did, because I need to be focused on Storm Grayson. Beautiful Storm Grayson, the man of my dreams.
The garden is brimming with people when we arrive. Someone has spelled the area to block out the cold and make it feel like a late spring day. I peel off the coat I’m wearing and toss it onto a bench.
After that I spot Chatty Cathy and her hoard of minions, so I steer clear and go find my sisters.
Chelsea and Dallas are lugging out a set of mallets and hoops.
Chelsea sees me and smiles. “Be glad that you’re not at the house. Nana was trying her fiercest to watch the game.”
“But Ovie and Mama both said no,” Dallas says with a sigh. “However, I fully expect Nana to escape and wind up hanging out in a magnolia tree.”
I glance up, suddenly worried that my grandmother will swoop down and startle the guests, revealing herself, and then everyone will know that she’s haunting us.
I can see it in the Castleview Gazette now—FAMILY MATRON RETURNS TO SAVE GRANDDAUGHTER FROM SPINSTERHOOD. ALSO AT RISK—FAMILY’S FAILING MAGIC.
No one will care about the magic. All they’ll see is a spirit haunting us to death.
Chelsea drops the spell ball set onto the grass and brushes off her hands. “Yep. Keep an eye out. You never know what that dead lady’s bound to do. But now that you’re here”—her eyes sparkle in a way that I don’t like—“what’s going on with Devlin?”
“Oh, um, nothing.”
Dallas smirks. “Doesn’t look like nothing. He’s staring at you.”
I whip around, but Devlin’s turned away. Good. He doesn’t need to look at anything that he doesn’t want.
“Nothing is going on,” I say sternly to end the conversation. “He needs help with something, and I’m helping him. That’s pretty much it. Oh, and he has my power, too, so I’m ultimately keeping the women of our town safe by making sure that he doesn’t influence them into his bed.”
“There are worse things than winding up in Devlin Ross’s bed,” Dallas says.
Chelsea laughs.
My face burns hot. “No, there aren’t. He’s an awful, terrible person. Trust me, I’m saving lives here. And a lot of them. Lives of women who will be thanking me subconsciously even if they don’t know consciously what I’m doing for them.”
Chelsea and Dallas exchange a look.
“What?”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Chelsea pats my shoulder as she breezes past me. “Come on. Storm Grayson just rolled up. Ovie’s going to be pairing us together soon.”
My sisters walk away, leaving me fuming, and that’s when I take a good long look at the spell ball set.
Oh crap. This isn’t normal spell ball, which is similar to croquet. This ismagicalspell ball, and I’m terrible at it.
“Something wrong?” Devlin’s beside me.
When did he slither up?
“No. Yes. I’m awful at magical spell ball.”
“Here. Let me give you a quick lesson.”
I start arguing that no thank you, I don’t need his help, but he’s already gently pushing a hoop into the earth and grabbing a mallet and ball.
“No, really, that’s okay.”
