Spells (Bayou Magic 2)

“It doesn’t scare me,” I assure him. “It’s a little startling at first, but I like knowing. I want you to be able to talk to me, Lucien. Especially when it comes to matters that pertain to us. And this certainly falls into that category.”

“Thank you.” He leans in to kiss my forehead. “Now, as much as I’d like to keep you here all to myself and worship every inch of your body, I think we should go on our date.”

“I don’t mind staying in.”

His smile is quick and pleased, but he just takes my hand and leads me toward the door.

“Meow.”

“Don’t wait up.” I wink at Sanguine and follow Lucien outside. We walk down to the sidewalk, and I stop and frown. “Where’s your car?”

“Right here.” He points to a little Porsche convertible with the top down. It’s white with a red interior and makes my mouth water. “I thought we could take this little girl out tonight.”

“Jesus, Lucien,” I mutter when he opens the door for me. “The blood business must pay well.”

He walks around the car and sinks in next to me, then roars the engine to life.

“It doesn’t do badly,” he says with a wink. I hold my hair back with my hand as he takes off, and then close my eyes, enjoying the breeze as it flows over my skin. I’m an air sign and have always been able to manipulate the air around me. I love the way it feels.

As I don’t live far from the Quarter, it’s not long before we’re parked and walking into the restaurant where we’re seated in the courtyard.

“Good evening, I’m Joe, your waiter tonight.”

I can’t stop looking at Lucien as Joe rattles off the specials, gives us recommendations, and then leaves with our wine order, thanks to the man sitting across from me.

“Is something wrong?” he asks.

“Nope.” I look down at the menu and try to get my libido under control. “I usually get the Brussels sprouts. They’ve managed to make a mediocre vegetable taste like candy.”

“That’s a must then,” he agrees.

“And I’ll probably do the fish special.”

I close the menu and set it aside. I’m fidgety. Finally, Lucien reaches over, takes my hand, and links our fingers. I immediately calm. The current of electricity that runs between us could spark a fire, but just like earlier when we were in the car at the house in the bayou, I’m wrapped in cool calm.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” he says. “You’re with me, and I’m the safest place you’ll ever be, a stór mo chroí. Let’s just enjoy this meal at this lovely restaurant and let me pine after you for a while.”

“You say some sweet things,” I say. “But by all means, pine away.”* * *Dinner was delicious and romantic. Lucien shared bites of his chicken with me, and I fed him pieces of fish. We laughed and talked about our careers and our goals there.

It was a very normal first-date dinner.

“Do you feel up to a walk?” I ask when we return to the car. “Not through the Quarter, but down at Audubon Park? It’s a lovely evening, and I bet the old oak trees will look amazing as the sun sets.”

“Of course,” he says and immediately drives us six miles out of the heart of downtown to the beautiful park that is my favorite part of the city. He parks near one of the walking paths and takes my hand as we meander through the green trees that fill the huge park.

“I love this place,” I admit as we approach a stone bridge that crosses over a river that runs through the heart of the park. “I don’t take many days off, but when I do, and if I don’t have a commitment with Miss Sophia and the coven, I come here to walk and enjoy this place.”

I lead him off the path to a clearing that’s surrounded by ancient oak trees, their heavy limbs touching the ground.

“I like to have picnics, right here, in this spot. I’ve always felt drawn to it.”

Lucien, who’s been quiet since we arrived, takes a deep breath and then looks down at me. “Would you like to know why?”

“Sure, tell me why I’m randomly drawn to this part of a random park.”

“Well, the arbor was right here,” he says, pointing to a specific spot on the grass. “And the chairs were set up over there. And right where you’re sitting is where we stood and exchanged vows, roughly one hundred years ago.”

I feel my jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water, but I can’t make my brain engage.

“Your hair was shorter then, but it was the roaring twenties, and that was the style. And your white dress was beautiful.”

“We got married, right here,” is all I can say.