A series of shushes quieted Aspen’s crying and replaced them with contented coos as Lynx walked back out, a small bounce to his step. Aspen clutched his chest. “Why don’t I finish up out here with him while you enjoy that muffin and get started putting things where you want them in the nursery?”
My chest ached seeing how at ease they were around each other in such a short time.
He’s just being neighborly.
I whispered the words to myself like a spell to calm down my overactive libido. He could tell I was struggling, probably from the bags under my eyes, the cityscape of boxes in my house, and not having Hazel here right now. I was obviously seeing things that weren’t really there, the ghost of my Desire taunting me in its attempt to revive my magic.
Lynx’s hand caressed my shoulder, and a sense of calm washed through me like the ocean spreading over the shore.
How was that possible? A second ago I was spiraling—
He gave me a light squeeze. “Empath-blessed.”
There were a multitude of Goddess-given gifts that witches could possess, and even within a specialty, there were many differentiations.
“How does your gift work?” I asked, quickly adding, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. I don’t mean to pry.”
Some witches were very touchy about their gifts. I was one of them, but it didn’t make me any less curious.
“My Empathy allows me to sense emotions.” His chin dipped to Aspen, whose eyes were darting from him, to me, to around the room. “Like right now, this little guy is feeling mischievous.”
“But just then, when you touched me”—a slight twinge of heat rippled across my cheeks—“my emotions settled almost instantly.”
“I can shift emotions, mostly when I’m touching someone. It’s not something I do often because emotions are meant to be experienced and I don’t want to do anything detrimental, but there are times I can’t resist.”
He lifted his hand, as if to touch me again, before clenching it and then rubbing Aspen’s back. “I can’t make someone feel anything they don’t already have within them, I can just…turn the volume up or dial it back. Your emotions were spinning out, so I gave them a short-term sanctuary.”
“Oh.” Now my chest was flushed too, embarrassment creeping through at his acutely accurate assessment.
“I’m sorry, Oakley,” he rasped, eyes falling like stars plummeting from the sky. “I shouldn’t have done that, especially since you didn’t know about my Empathy.”
“I appreciate it anyway. My mind has been doing that a lot lately, and you were only trying to help.”
The stars in his eyes returned, blinking back at me. “Thanks for not being mad.”
“Don’t mention it.” I just hoped he didn’t expect me to tell him what my gift was in return.
He nodded toward the nursery. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
“Sounds great,” I agreed, heading into Aspen’s room.
Phew!I was grateful for the subject change before things got awkward. Though I had a feeling he could possibly sense my Desire, I was too mortified to really contemplate it much.
* * *
Three hours later,the crib had been assembled and almost everything in the nursery was set in its place. Aspen was passed out in his baby swing, rocking back and forth, the classic instrumental of “Paint It Black” crooning from the speaker. A set of small pine trees and moons hovered at varying lengths, circling above him.
“Let me go grab the stuff from the dryer.” I headed out into the hallway to load up the laundry basket full of clean clothes and linens.
When I walked back toward the nursery, Lynx was sitting on his knees, watching Aspen sleep. The corner of his lip quirked upward, as if in awe. My chest ached at the sight.
“He’s so precious,” Lynx whispered, not taking his gaze away but startling me nonetheless with the fact he knew I was watching. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you and his father…” He tilted his head, not fully finishing the question but not really needing to.
“No, we aren’t together,” I replied, placing the basket on the floor between us and taking out the crib sheet. Lynx stretched it over the corners of the mattress, not taking his eyes away from me. I began folding up a pair of jammies with little painted skulls and vines in a sweet shade of sage on them. “We were. He actually proposed when I was pregnant.”
“But?”
“It just wouldn’t have worked.”
