Once in a Blue Moon (Beaux Rêve Coven 1)

“I’ve got you.”

The way he said it in his deep, rumbling voice struck her. At once, a sensual thrill licked her senses. But a quiver of apprehension quickly followed. “I’m not usually this clumsy,” she murmured and pushed against his chest—a mistake, because her palms instantly molded around the bulges of his pectorals.

Sweet Goddess, he was well-made.

He set her back, easing his hands away and giving her a one-sided smile. “After you,” he said, indicating toward the table.

She went to her usual place at the table and blushed as he pulled out her chair for her to take her seat. He settled at the head of the table next to her.

Her friends hadn’t moved. They watched her interaction with Ethan with wicked gleams in their eyes. Something was afoot. She could feel it, but she waved a hand toward the table. “We don’t stand on ceremony here. Please take your seats.”

Food was passed around. Darcy ladled gumbo into bowls filled with rice and bread was broken. As bread plates were passed, Aoife, who sat at Bryn’s other shoulder, reached into a velvet bag tied at her waist. She pulled out flowers and began to lay one beside each slice of bread.

She smiled at the men. “I run a fragrant-oils business here. Flowers make life…prettier…don’t you think?” she said, batting her eyes at Renner.

Bryn narrowed her gaze, knowing Aoife’s penchant for flower magic, but she relaxed when her sister witch placed snapdragon blooms on the first plates. Protective magic was fine. And snapdragons served a dual purpose of encouraging friendship. Perfectly appropriate for the occasion.

But then Aoife placed a zinnia bloom on the last plate, the one intended for Ethan.

Bryn gave her a subtle shake of her head. Zinnias were for lust.

“Pass the plate, Bryn. Ethan’s waiting,” Aoife said, an innocent smile on her face.

But the act of her giving him the plate might enact the magic, binding his lust with hers. Bryn pulled back her hand, reluctant to accept it. Yes, ever since she’d met him she’d been imagining all kinds of sexy possibilities, but she wanted to tread carefully in those deep waters.

“You don’t believe in flower magic,” Aoife whispered.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked just as softly, leaning toward her friend.

“I saw the way he looked at you when he caught you. He only needs a nudge.”

“Shhh…” Bryn pasted on a smile and quickly handed the plate to Ethan, who picked up the bloom and looked at it with curiosity before putting it back on the plate.

Bryn let go of the breath she held. Flower magic wasn’t her milieu. And Aoife hadn’t cast a spell, adding words as a prayer to the elements, so perhaps the

flowers were only meant to tease her. The women had seen her instant attraction to Ethan, something that hadn’t occurred in a very, very long time. They must have been tittering among themselves over the fact she was smitten.

Radha cleared her throat and glanced at the men in turn. “Are you both settled in?”

Ethan looked up from his bowl, and his gaze went to Bryn.

Heat began to fill her cheeks as she recalled their conversation when she’d shown him his room. She’d explained the faucets in the bathroom—some guests, rare though they were in these parts, had been confused by the whirling lever.

Ethan had merely smiled. “I think I get it.”

Then she’d explained the device that controlled the softness or hardness of the mattress. “The higher the number, the harder it will be,” she’d said and then clamped her jaws closed because talking about softness and hardness had made her suddenly imagine his cock, elevating and lowering according to some click of a button.

Ethan’s mouth had firmed into a narrow line, but his eyes had gleamed with laughter at her distress.

She’d fled the room moments later, her hands held against her hot cheeks, his soft chuckles following her down the hallway.

“My room’s very comfortable. I especially like the bed.”

The brows of every woman rose, and their gazes went to Bryn, who frowned and ducked her head. “The gumbo’s getting cold,” she muttered.

The rest of the meal passed without any more embarrassment, the women, not Bryn, asking questions about the plans for the bridge.

“How long will you be staying?” Miren asked, her sea-green gaze darting to Renner.