Page 4 of Beautiful Soul

Once the door swung closed, she stopped and looked around with interest.

The room appeared larger than it did from the outside. Toward the back left side of the room was the counter with the kitchen area and display case of pastries. The rest of the room was filled with a dozen small, mismatched wooden tables and chairs painted in a rainbow of muted/musty-toned colors. The walls and floor were covered with wide pine boards. The ceiling tiles were punched copper.

Except for the large, highly chromed coffeemakers behind the counter, Lena felt like she had stepped back several hundred years in time, until she noticed the artwork on the walls. Large paintings of what appeared to be vampires, witches, and shape-shifters, angels, ghostly visions, and other supernatural creatures.

“Hello, Lena.” A small woman approached from her left, drawing her attention from the intense study of her surroundings. “I’m Mystic. Welcome to my café.”

The ancient woman with wrinkled skin the deep brown of milk chocolate, was maybe five feet tall, and could not have weighed more than ninety pounds. Her pure white hair was short and naturally curly. Her brown eyes seemed to hold the wisdom of the ages, and her smile was welcoming and showed off bright white teeth. She wore a bright purple t-shirt with an ankle-length tie-dyed skirt. Her Crocs matched her shirt and seemed to pull the entire outfit together.

It was not her appearance that startled Lena, it was the fact she had greeted her by name. But instead of asking the woman, Lena just gave an internal shrug and forced herself to roll with it. “Umm, thank you.”

Mystic linked arms with her and pulled her along as she turned toward the back right corner of the room. “Kingsley is back here. He’s a really good man. Normally we close in two hours, but I’ll be happy to stay open for you.”

“Umm, thank you,” Lena repeated, once again feeling she had fallen down the rabbit hole.

The man sitting at the table stood as they approached. He was a few inches over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a well-toned, solid built body. He wore his hair cut close to his head, with heavy touches of silver at his temples, and glints of silver throughout. His mustache and goatee had more white strands in them and contrasted with his unlined café au lait skin, making Lena wonder how old the man truly was.

His white dress shirt and black cargo pants, worn with black cowboy boots, showcased his strong chest, flat belly, and long legs. Lena licked her lips, for the first time in ages wishing her ex-husband had killed himself before he had left her scarred. The instant she looked into the man’s pale-green eyes, her heart squeezed and her pussy clenched in the strongest reaction Lena had felt for any man. Ever.

“Kingsley James, meet Lena Wellings,” Mystic said once they were close enough. “May you have a long and happy life together.”

Before either of them could comment on what sounded like strangely prophetic words, Mystic turned and walked away.

****

Kingsley felt the moment Lena entered the café. The air in the café shifted with what he assumed was her anxiety-laden energy. He looked over as repetitive static shocks stabbed at his skin from across the room. Being greeted by Mystic, who grabbed her arm and led her toward his table, did little to ease her nervousness. Overlying her nervous state was a heavy, foggy layer of depression, like she was preparing for his rejection. Which was strange. He had expected her to be nervous, but in an excited, expectant, meet-a-new-man sort of way.

She was half a head taller than Mystic which put her about five and a half feet tall. She was curvy and full-figured, just the way he liked his women. The scarf she had wrapped around her head left her face in shadows, so he had to look beyond the surface.

Looking deeper told him she was in a lot of emotional pain. But that pain could not fully negate the beauty he saw in her soul. The beauty and the pain pulled at him as if she reached across the space between them, wrapped her hand around his cock, and gave it a gentle tug. Not something he had ever experienced before.

Still staring, he saw she held a magic he had never seen before. She was not a bland, she was one of them, a supernatural. How could that be, without her or any of the elders knowing?

Kingsley pushed to his feet but did not move from behind the table, hoping his suddenly hard cock was not noticeable. Thank the gods and goddesses for loose-fitting trousers. Needing to distract himself from his body’s reaction, he shifted to study her eyes. In an instant, their chocolatey-brown depths drew him in and he felt the beginning threads of connection grow between them. Then she dropped her gaze to his chest as the two women approached the table.

Mystic looked delighted as she introduced them before heading to the kitchen. Once she was gone, Kingsley finally found his voice. “Hello, Lena.”

He smiled, hoping it did not appear too predatory. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off by being too forward.

“Hello,” she replied softly, sounding sad. Her gaze remained locked on his chest.

Need flowed over him like a warm shower, leaving heat in its wake. Nothing—man, woman, or animal—had ever affected him like this before. All he wanted was to scoop her up, carry her out of the café and upstairs to his apartment where he would love on her until she relaxed with a happy smile.

He wondered what her answer would be if he suggested going upstairs before their tea arrived.

Chapter Three

Lena found herself unable to speak, unable to move, unable to think, under Kingsley’s pale-green gaze. It was as if the electric charge that swept through her by staring into his eyes had completely wiped her brain’s hard drive. Dropping her eyes to his chest, she took a breath, but still could not decide whether to throw herself at the man and beg him to take her now, or run home and hide in her apartment until this night was a long-distant memory.

Before she could do either, Mystic returned with a tray that looked too large and heavy for her to carry, but carry it she did.

“Sit down before you throw down and do something nasty on my table,” Mystic ordered with a chuckle as she set the tray on the table.

Lena jolted at the woman’s words before she realized they had been standing there on either side of the table, staring at one another long enough for Mystic to fix and deliver their food.

“Yes, please sit down,” Kingsley said, waving to a bright-yellow wooden chair on the other side of the table.

She pulled out the chair and sat down, then nervously adjusted her scarf. Kingsley remained on his feet until she sat down before he settled in his chair again. Once seated, he moved a pile of files and papers and his notebook computer to the chair beside him to make more room on the table for their food.

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