Mystic Tides Page 7

  And if that wasn’t a kick in the gut. Beck’s heart shattered even more at her words. They belonged together. She was just too stubborn to admit it.

  Grams exchanged a look with his mother and gave a slight nod. “We’ll take care of it. By midnight tonight, the glass will be either shattered or tossed back into the wind so the right person can find him.”

  His mom took the blue pendant from his grandmother’s hands and stood on her toes to link it over his head. She rested her palm over the piece before closing her eyes and whispering words only she could hear.

  When she opened her eyes, a tear slid down her cheek. “Trust yourself. The magic will work, son. Just don’t give up.” She grinned and winked. “Never give up.”

  Beck wanted so much to believe his mom. He wanted to read meaning into the words, yet he couldn’t.

  Grams held up the other piece and narrowed her eyes at Grey. “Child, if this was meant for you, it will find you again.”

  Beck kissed the women and led Grey out of the bingo parlor and back to the truck. He’d promised to have her back in Blansett, and that was damn well what he was going to do. A quick trip to the cabin and then back to plane.

  * * * *

  Jan and Edna stood at the edge of the pond with their arms linked together. The moon was high in the night sky as her watch read twelve.

  “You know they’re meant to be together,” Jan told her mom.

  “I know, dear. They’re just young. They’ll figure it out.”

  “She’s good for him.”

  “And him for her,” Edna agreed.

  Jan gave a slight nod. “Winds from the East, we call to thee to take this pendant where it needs to be.”

  “Through time and space this love grows strong.” Edna started the incantation, whispering it into the winds. The wind around them rose, caressing her face.

  “Find her,” Jan demanded. “Guide her.” Jan lowered her head and whispered the remainder. “And give her the courage to love him as much as he loves her.” Jan drew her arm back and threw the stone out toward the crystal water. The glass piece hovered in the air, never touching the water, before vanishing out of sight.

  Edna squeezed Jan’s arm and used her cane to walk back toward the waiting truck. “I give them a month and we’ll be planning their wedding.”

  “I’d bet a hundred dollars it will be at least a year.”

  “I’ll take that bet.” Edna grinned, and they left just as quickly as they’d arrived.

  * * * *

  Beck pulled into Grey’s driveway and kept the motor running. The clock on the radio read one in the morning. Sleep called to her, yet she couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move. “Do you think they did it?”

  Beck gave a resigned nod. “Yep.”

  “Do you think it broke my cousins’ spell?”

  He shrugged. “My grandmother comes from a powerful line. I’m sure they righted everything.”

  “What if they didn’t? What if I’m still cursed?”

  Beck leaned over and cradled Grey’s face in his palms. His brown eyes swirled with emotion. “There’s only one way we can be sure that you’re cured.”

  He leaned closer. “I love you.” He pressed his lips to hers in a tender caress before resting his forehead on hers. “Goodbye, Grey.”

  “Goodbye?” she asked as he dropped his hold and straightened in his seat.

  “You’re free. You don’t need me. Both spells are broken, leaving us neighbors. Unless, of course, you want more.”

  Grey didn’t answer. She didn’t know how to answer. So she did the one most uncharacteristic thing that he’d ever expect. She didn’t speak at all. There were no witty comebacks, no pleas to stay. Nothing.

  “That’s what I thought,” he said quietly.

  “I’m sorry, Beck. I think I made it clear that we aren’t right for each other.”

  Beck pressed his lips together and gave a slight nod. “Yep, you did.”

  Grey slid out of the truck and grabbed her bag. She shut the truck door without another word and watched as he drove away.

  What the hell had she just done? He was perfect in every way, just not perfect for her. She gave a sure nod of agreement, even though her heart clenched at the same time. “I’m doing the right thing.”

  She gave another terse nod and jogged up the stairs to her home, unlocked the door, and stepped inside the empty room. There was no dog to greet her, no one happy she was home. Would anyone even bother to come look for her, or even care, if she disappeared? She was done fighting. There was no one here to hide her emotions from.

  She slid down to the floor with her back to the door and cupped her face. Her sobs shook her shoulders as tears streamed down her face. She’d let go of the one man who was right for her, the one man who had broken through the ice around her heart to free her fire in the one place it had never touched. She’d let him go without a second glance. What did that say about her? What did that say about him, that he’d let her do it? He’d given her up without a fight. She swiped the tears from her eyes as the realization dawned on her. He loved her. She knew he did, and yet he’d just walked away.

  She rose from her spot with more determination and anger seething in her bones. “If so much as one tramp comes through my town with that damn pendant around her neck, she’ll have a fireball up her ass and a rainstorm of hell fall on her head.”

  No…Beck Marshall didn’t get to decide they were over. She wasn’t done.

  “Not in my town,” she grumbled to herself as she stormed into her bedroom. She grabbed her phone from her purse and turned it back on. There was no way in hell she’d let those witches steal her happiness, regardless of the damn red glass. “I don’t care what the old witches had planned.”

  Chapter 8

  Beck leaned his elbows on the deck railing and stared out into the late afternoon sky. A whole day had passed without one word from Grey. He glanced in the direction of her home, hoping she’d be outside on the deck and looking as miserable as he felt inside.

  His mom had called last night and confirmed the deed had been done. The glass pendant had vanished into the universe toward his true love, with the destination unknown.

  He’d turned back to the ocean when he spotted her red hair blowing in the wind. Grey was at the shoreline, wearing a long white skirt flowing in the wind. The woman beside her was wearing a wide-brimmed hat and handed her a shell. Dangling a child-sized sand bucket from her fingers, Grey took the conch shell and pressed it against her ear. Her smile grew instantly, swelling his heart. She laughed as she tossed the shell into her bucket, her eyes trained on the sand as she moved farther up the shore, only to stop abruptly. She fell to her knees, and the bucket slipped from her fingers. She picked up another small object.

  Her head fell forward briefly before she lifted her head again and glanced over her shoulder toward his house.

  She nodded, and he nodded back.

  Beck had seen enough. She was happy, and that was what mattered most. No amount of time was going to mend his broken heart. The most he could hope for was that his pain would ease into a slight ache. Beck turned and walked back into the house. He had things to do. He’d called Cappy with an excuse to get out of the ball, only to be trumped and guilted into going. It was their job to be in attendance. They were the face of the community, the silent unsung heroes or some crap.

  * * * *

  Grey stood at the entrance of the ballroom and placed a hand on her stomach to squish the butterflies in her belly. Beck was here…somewhere. She scanned the crowd, unable to find him.

  “Quit fidgeting. You’re a knockout. That red dress screams fire. I’m sure they’ll all come running,” Sydney teased, pushing the sapphire clutch that matched her dress under her arm. They stepped farther into the room. “You’re going to let me borrow it, right?”

  “Of course,” Grey answered as Sydney dug out her lip gloss. “We have a problem.”

  Sydney jerked her gaze from the compact to Gre
y. “What? You promised no problems tonight. This dress is too pretty to ruin.”

  Grey gestured to the onlookers. All eyes were filled with lust.

  Sydney gripped Grey’s arm. “I thought those old ladies broke the spell, and just in case they had nothing to do with the pendants, that was when you both said the words.”

  “We did. He told me he loved me.” Grey took a step back, unsure if they were about to be attacked.

  “And you told me you loved him.”

  “I do.”

  “Then…” Sydney’s mouth parted as she spun to look at Grey. “Did you tell him?”

  ‘’What? No. I was going to tell him tonight.”

  Sydney rolled her eyes and let out a long breath. “You both have to profess your love. The spell is only partially broken.”

  Sydney linked her arm through Grey’s and stared down the lusty, horny men. “Back off, bitches. She’s mine,” Sydney growled as she pulled Grey farther into the room and toward the stage. “Wait here.”

  Lifting her skirt, Sydney hurried up the stairs to the microphone. “Beck Marshall.” Sydney’s voice carried through the room. No one acknowledged her. “Cut the damn music,” she yelled, and instantly the music cut off. “Is Beck Marshall in the house? We have a fire, and your assistance is needed.”

  Several of the firemen approached the stage, none of them the one she needed most.

  “Damn it,” Sydney cussed and motioned Grey to the stage. She gestured to the microphone. “Time to sing like a canary, here and now.”

  Heat climbed into Grey’s cheeks. That was yet another new experience she’d had since meeting Beck. This week was just full of surprises. “Sydney, I can’t.”

  Sydney took Grey by the arm and led her to the microphone. She held her palm over it. “You know you love him.”

  “Yes, but…”

  Sydney gestured to the red glass pendant that Grey had found on the beach earlier that morning. “With or without that piece of glass, you knew it before you found it again.”

  “Sydney…”

  “You are not a chicken, Grey Sinclair. So what if the rest of the town hears it before him? It doesn’t make it not true. So tell this damn crowd that you love him because I am not getting into a fight and ruining this damn dress.”

  Grey bit her lip and leaned toward the microphone. Helena-Marie was standing next to Cappy and the rest of the fireman. Grey steeled her nerves, and her gaze went around the room. She was still unable to locate the object of her love.

  Clearing her throat, Grey tapped the microphone. “Beck Marshall. I know you’re out there.” She glanced down at Cappy, who gave a slight nod.

  “Here goes nothing,” she whispered to herself. “Beck Marshall, from the moment you walked into the shop, I knew I couldn’t live without you.”

  The room grew extremely quiet.

  “You stormed into my life, and I tried to deny my feelings for you. Yet you fought me every step of the way.”

  The crowd parted in front of the stage, and Beck appeared in his tux. Grey’s hands shook at his perfection, at his presence, because of him. Damn, she loved this man.

  “Go on,” he urged her.

  She moved away from the podium to stand in front of him, kneeling down to make them eye level. She lifted the red glass from her chest. “It came back.”

  His eyes went to the glass before meeting hers again. “I knew it would.”

  “I love you.” An unshed tear slipped free. “And I’m not saying it to break the spell. I love you, Beck Marshall, with all of my heart. I can’t promise to be an appropriate girlfriend…but…”

  “No you can’t.” He stepped forward and lifted her off the stage to slide down his body. “But you’ll be the perfect wife. My equal and match in every way.” He rested his head against hers. “You already own my heart, Grey Sinclair. All that’s left is talking you into wearing my ring.”

  Gasps were heard from the women close by. She ignored everyone as though they didn’t exist. Only he did, in this moment, right here and now. She smiled as another tear fell.

  “I’ll wear yours if you wear mine.” She winked and pressed her lips to his, in a kiss that she’d remember forever.

  The End.

  Push and Pull

  Devin Govaere

  Copyright © 2015 Coastal Escape Publishing, LLC

  All rights reserved.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement (including infringement without monetary gain) is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Please purchase only authorize electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of Copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Coastal Escape Publishing

  DEDICATION

  To the women I’ve known who have filled my life with friendship, love, and their own brand of magic.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  Chapter 1

  Blansett, North Carolina

  Saturday Afternoon, Labor Day Weekend

  “I think you’ll positively love this set of rune stones carved from bone. Here, let me show you.” Sydney Janzen laid out a black cloth and slid the runes from the bag out onto the velvet. She spread out the pieces and made sure all the rune symbols were visible. “It’s a lovely set. We acquired it from a woman in Iceland after her mother passed. She had been a talented and well-respected reader. She even traveled to Sweden to do a reading for the queen. Imagine that! I have a certificate of authenticity.”

  The middle-aged woman clutched her purse closer, as though Sydney might try to snatch it from her, and then glanced at her friend. “What do you think, Daphne?”

  The older woman—a biddy if Sydney had ever seen one—sniffed. “I don’t know, Abby. They’re made of”—she lowered her voice—“bone.”

  “Animal bone,” Sydney stressed. “Reindeer in fact.”

  “Oh… how sad,” Abby murmured.

  Sad customers don’t bring in the dough. Time to bring out the push.

  She didn’t like using her gift for monetary gain, but she’d wasted enough of her time with these two. They’d been in the shop most of the afternoon, sending hostile glances toward the pentagrams like nuns on steroids, scoffing at the psychic party announcements on the bulletin board, flipping through Tarot cards, and getting their grimy, out-of-state prints all over everything without purchasing a blessed thing. Some vacationers made great customers. Others, not so much.

  These two had basically made Sydney and Bethany’s afternoon very unpleasant by forcing them to defend themselves and their business. Bethany had finally stepped into the back and abandoned her, but not before she chuckled and said, “Good luck.”

  “Let’s buy your granddaughter something else, Abby,” Biddy Daphne said. “You shouldn’t encourage her to mess with the occult.” Her gaze skittered across some of the items on the counter then came back to meet Sydney’s eyes for a split second before it slithered away. “It’s not right.”

  “Of course it’s right,” Sydney said, peering into Abby’s eyes. She gave a gentle push. “It’s a perfectly safe amusement, and your granddaughter will have a blast. I’ll even thro
w in an instruction book on doing readings—at no charge of course.”

  “She would,” Abby said. “She’d have a blast.”

  “And who knows?” Sydney said, giving her a wink. “Perhaps the gift has been passed through the stones.”

  Abby gave a visible shiver of excitement and opened her purse.

  Daphne put her hand over Abby’s. “Think about this for a minute. Do you want cursed stones in your granddaughter’s hands?”

  Sydney smiled. “Not cursed. We wouldn’t sell something like that.” Halona would catch something cursed in an instant. “If anything, they’re charmed.”

  Abby fairly cooed now. “They sound so magical.”

  “Haven’t you heard?” Sydney asked. “Everything in Blansett is magical.” She gave the woman her most cajoling smile, the one she used quite regularly on her father. “The rune stones are beautiful, and a perfectly reasonable price, given their history.” Push.

  Abby nodded. “Yes, I agree. Please wrap them up before somebody changes my mind.” She pursed her lips and cut a side-glance to her friend.

  Not a chance of that happening now, Sydney thought with satisfaction.

  Abby handed over her credit card, and Sydney handled the transaction then carefully slid the runes back into their velvet bag. She settled that into a small black bag with Mystic Tides emblazoned on it in white script. “Thank you for shopping at Mystic Tides. I hope to see you again, maybe during festival week next month.”

  “You will,” Abby said.

  “Not likely,” Daphne muttered.

  “Oh I think you’ll change your mind,” Sydney said. Push.