Page 14 of Charmed, I'm Sure
Should it have brought me an ounce of joy? No. But I was downright giddy, a haughty smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. “Aunt Evie, you remember Taylor, don’t you?”
“Yep.” She popped thepwith so much force that I could have sworn it echoed through the crowded lane of booths. Taylor’s eyes widened, a small flush coloring his cheeks as he palmed the back of his neck.Washe embarrassed?“Is there something we can do for you, Mr. Hallows, or are you just here to harass my niece some more?”
“I assure you, I have no intention of harassing Maggi—” If looks could kill, the one I just shot him for almost calling meMaggiewould have incinerated him on the spot. Thankfully for him, he noticed and corrected himself. “Magnolia. I saw her when I was leaving the clinic and just wanted to say hey.” His eyes dropped to our tablescape, and he picked up one of the clamshell containers. “Did you make these?”
“Of course I did. It’s one of my best sellers.”
“Pain au chocolat, right?”
“Yeah, but we just call them chocolate croissants… it’s easier.”
An awkward silence settled over our tiny tent as he continued to peruse the rest of the contents on the tables. He picked up each candle, gave it a sniff, and then set it back down. Releasing a heavy sigh, I rounded the table and asked, “Can I help?”
“Just can’t decide on a scent.”
“Where are you putting it?” I asked as I closed the distance between us, which ended up being a colossal mistake on my part. Taylor Hallows smelleddivine—like a mahogany teakwoodBath and Body Workscandle with the tiniest hint of vanilla. It really should be a crime to look as good as he does, smell like a goddamn man-candle, and be a complete… well, maybe notcomplete… asshole.
“Does it matter?” he asked, pulling me from the haze.
“What?”
“Does where I’m putting it matter? When it comes to scents, I mean.”
“It can.” My aunt's candles weren’t just your regular, run-of-the-mill wax containers with wicks. Each had an intended purpose, and whether or not they were used that way wasn’t any of our business. “The Maidenis lavender and chamomile scented and is forrelaxing and bringing love and harmony to the space, so it would be best in an open area like a living room. Then you haveThe Crone, which is eucalyptus and rain. It’s for clarity and protection from negative energies, so it could go anywhere. And finally,The Mother,which is her most popular. It’s sandalwood and patchouli.”
“What makes it so popular?” he asked, lifting the amber glass to his nose.
Had it been anyone else, anyone in the world who asked me that question, I wouldn’t have flinched. Wouldn’t have hesitated. Hell, I answered it a thousand times during this festival alone. But for some Mother-forsaken reason, sayingit’s for inviting love into your life and should be in the bedroomto Taylor Hallows was where my thirty-year-old brain turned into a pre-pubescent one, and my girlie bits decided to sneak into the party.
“It’s for opening your heart and inviting love into your life. You should put it in the bedroom,” Aunt Evie supplied, shooting me a quick, questioning glance when Taylor looked back at the table.
“I’ll take it. Do you have a bag?”
“Which one?” Aunt Evie asked when my voice still hadn’t made its grand reappearance.
“The Mother.And these croissants and one of the personal charcuterie boards.”
Surprise shone in my aunt's eyes for a brief moment before a knowing smirk tilted up one corner of her mouth. “Perfect. I’ll ring you up over there and grab you a bag. Magpie, help out the other customers, please.”
Other customers? I quirked a brow, then turned.Oh. Behind Taylor was a line of about twenty people, patiently waiting to get to the table. I was so wrapped up in getting him out of our booth that I hadn't even realized that people had walked up behind us. “Sorry, y’all. I’ll be rightwith you!” I called out over the crowd, internally wincing at my lack of observational skills.
As Taylor stepped to the side, he leaned down and whispered, “I guess we’ll have to see if this candle works, won’t we, cher?”
We? Cher?That was the second time he’d called me the Cajun version ofsweetheartin as many days, and for some god-forsaken reason, my brain and mouth were still a ball of tangled Christmas lights, so I couldn’t correct him. When I met his gaze, his eyes reminded me of the blue tips of a flame burning and full of promise. Heat licked up my spine, and I had to promptly remind my libido that we didnotlike this man. We tolerated his presence because he was purchasing goods that we sold and that he was an asshole… even when he wasn’t being one.
Mother above, this was confusing.
Somehow managing to unravel the tangled mess that was my mind around this man, I gave him a demure smile and said, “I guess you will.” Then, I pulled my gaze from his and slipped past him to help the next customer in line.
“You want to tell me what all that was about earlier?” Aunt Evie asked as we loaded the last of the totes into the back of her car.
“What what was?”
“Magpie, I know you’re a natural blonde under all that dye, but you’re not stupid.”
“I think I’m more of a mousy brown now, actually.” Slamming the trunk closed, I skirted the side of the car to the driver’s side door as quickly as I could to avoid the seething gaze I was undoubtedly getting from my aunt.
“Magnolia Bellevue!” she screeched as my hand found the handle.
