Page 52 of Untraced Magic
I paused, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. I made a mental note to ask him about it later. For Tyler to make a statement like that, it had to bebad. He didn’t seem the type of guy to make judgement without evidence.
“Okay, so what areyourrules?” I asked.
He lifted the mugs of coffee closer to me, placing them on the counter beside where I sat.
“The main one is you must only use magic for good.”
I nodded. “Got it. So, I can’t conjure up all the money I like then.”
The joke fell flat, and to be fair, I knew it would be a hard push. I was only trying to take both our minds off the elephant in the room: that living in Cutters Cove could only be a temporary stop for me.
I didn’t want to think that something so entirely out of my control could change everything.Again.
My attraction to Tyler was magnetic, the pull to him like some external force drawing us together. Physics in its purest form, you could say. I knew he felt it too, and I could tell by the way his jaw had tensed again that he was thinking about what that could mean for us also.
When he finally spoke, I knew I was right. His voice was lower,more serious than usual. “No, you can’t. That’s why we all have jobs.” He pulled in a deep breath before releasing it slowly. “Morgan, there’s so much to tell you, I don’t even know where to begin. But for now, do you like sugar in your coffee, or are you sweet enough already?”
He was changing the subject; that much was obvious, and to be fair, I was on board with it. I needed to push the what ifs to the back of my mind or else I’d go mad.
I stared up at him from my perch on the counter, his pupils dilated, causing a newfound intensity to claim them.
“I may need a little more sugar,” I admitted, biting my bottom lip.
Tyler shifted toward me, his hands separating my legs until he stood between them. He bolted his eyes to mine and grabbed my thighs, tugging me closer to him until I was barely on the counter anymore.
His voice came out a low husk. “Do you now?”
A shudder drove through me at both the movement and his words, my insides humming in response. His lips found mine, and a groan rumbled from him as he kissed me painfully slow, until I needed air.
We broke away, and he rested his forehead on mine, his thumb languidly sliding over my bottom lip and sending shivers down my spine.
“Morgan, what you do to me is…” His voice trailed off, and he brought his hands up to cup my face, his head dipping for a moment. “Sorry, I’m not very good at this.”
Honesty filled his features as his thumb caressed my cheek.
He took a deep breath. “You walked into Cutters Cove in those goddamn jeans like you were always meant to be here. You must be part of our coven. Youhaveto be.”
Tyler’s gaze hardened, and steel gray turned to thunderous clouds that crashed into mine. My lips moved, then closed again, unable to voice words. Unable to think. His intensity stole my words and consumed my mind until I finally managed a whisper.
“You don’t even know me. What if I turn out to be some sort of evil thing?” I said, tucking a stray hair behind my ear.
His hands drifted down to my thighs, mindlessly skimming over my jeans.
“Unless you’re the Queen of the Underworld or the Devil himself, I’m sure we can deal with whatever you have going on here.” He swirled his fingers in the air until his pointer finger landed between my breasts. “I know Wes has his doubts, but I don’t. I want you to know that.”
The weight of his words hit me, his stare becoming lazy and hooded. A grin spread over his face before he kissed me again. Slower this time, pulling me into his arms until I was dizzy from the exquisite taste of him.
When he pulled away, his hands eased my hips off the counter until my feet hit the ground.
He handed me a mug of coffee before we moved outside to my back deck, settling on the step, our legs seemingly gravitating toward each other.
“Any plans for the vegetable garden?” said Tyler.
I followed his line of sight to the boxed planters nearing the end of my section, filled with greenery of all sorts.
“To be honest, I’ve never been that great at keeping plants alive,” I muttered, thinking about the basil I had tried to grow in a poton more than one occasion. I liked to think it would complement a pizza, but it only ever died.
A low laugh rumbled from Tyler. “To be fair, if you getanythingto grow here, you’re doing well. We don’t get a lot of sun.”
