Chapter Fourteen

 

Ian and Aubrey strolled the boardwalk along with other patrons. The cool wind blew, bringing with it the salty smell of the sea. In the distance they could hear music playing, laughter, and the rhythmic rise and fall of the waves rippling toward shore. Aubrey slipped her hand into Ian's, surprising him. The warmth of her smooth hand against his rough textured skin felt comforting. Maybe she really did forgive him after all. "How did you end up working for a paranormal magazine?" His curiosity couldn't be ignored any longer.

"I met this crazy red-head in college. Loretta Sinclair. She's funny and brilliant. She wanted to do the unbelievable—investigate what others wouldn't. Before I knew it, her enthusiasm rubbed off on me and I couldn't resist. I needed the job. I needed to believe that wishes do come true, that faeries exist, and that the Loch Ness Monster isn't a figment of the imagination."

"And what of my granddad's magic box?"

"Yes, I'd like to believe in the magic box, too." Her brows furrowed.

"For one who claims she wants magic in her life, you don't sound convinced the paranormal is alive and kicking."

Her features relaxed and her laugh was warm and inviting. "It doesn't mean I can't keep hoping." She gazed at him. "Tell me honestly. Do you believe in the magic box?"

He opened his mouth then shut it again, pursing his lips together.

She latched onto his hesitation and pushed. "Come on, tell me."

"Is this off the record or am I going to be quoted in your next article?"

She nudged him playfully. "Off the record. I really want to know what you think."

He squeezed her hand, bringing her to a halt. "There's something to it." He looked at her, taking in her every feature. The curve of her lips, the tilt of her nose, the way her dark lashes lay on her cheek when she lowered her eyelids. He blinked to clear his thoughts. "Once a year people flock to the inn to make the annual Spring Equinox wish, all craving a new beginning. Every year the faeries make their choice or choices. I don't know, maybe it's simply the power of suggestion. Perhaps the person they were looking for was always there, but they'd refused to see them until they opened themselves up to the possibility." He moved a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "So, yes, I believe in the magic box." Her eyes fluttered closed as if she wanted him to kiss her, as if she waited in hopes that he would.

Awareness filled the air around him—her nearness…the scent of her. Sweet and feminine like sunshine in the morning and all so tempting. His gaze lingered on her lips, open in invitation, but he reined in his desire and let his hand fall away. Not yet.

She looked at him, her eyebrows puckering in the center. He was sure his own solemn expression didn't help her confusion as to why he put on the brakes. They were just finding their way back to each other. He didn't want to blow it by rushing things.

He curved his lips into a smile. "Are you up for chocolate cake and coffee?"

There was a slight hesitation, but then she returned the gesture with a smile of her own. "Give me chocolate and I'll reveal top secrets."

He tucked her arm beneath his. "Hmm. Remind me to question you later."