Darknight(26)

“Oh, don’t hand me any of that Montague and Capulet crap.”

I blinked. I had no idea she paid that much attention when we read Romeo and Juliet in English class. “It’s not crap.”

“It is. If he’s your consort, and you like him…what’s the problem?” Her eyes narrowed. “Does he not like you? Because if that’s what’s going on, I’m going to have to drive up there and give him a lecture on his taste in women.”

Oh, for Goddess’ sake…. “No, that’s not the problem. I think…I think he doesn’t want to do anything that feels like he’s forcing me, I guess.”

“Would he be?”

Time to own up to that one. “No, not really.”

“Well, then.” From somewhere off in the distance I heard a disembodied voice yell, “Sydney! Get down here! Your cousins will be here any minute!”, and she grimaced. “I’m being summoned. Look, you’re going to do what you’re going to do, and I get that. But don’t let this history between your families get in the way. That’s just dumb. I mean, Dad isn’t that thrilled about Anthony being Native American — ”

“Seriously?” I broke in. “What year is this?”

“I know, right? But anyway, I’m not going to let that get in my way, because it’s stupid. Just like this McAllister/Wilcox feud or whatever it is shouldn’t get in your way. Just be Connor and Angela. The rest will work itself out.”

“Sydney!”

“Coming!” Another eye roll. “Jesus. Anyway, I really have to go. Just think about what I said, okay? And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” I replied.

She winked and then shut down the app, and the screen went dark.

I sat there for a minute, then glanced up at the time display in the upper right-hand corner of the computer screen. Five fifteen. Close enough. It was about time to get down to the kitchen and rev up my domestic goddess routine.

As I closed the laptop and got up, I thought again about what Sydney had said. Just be Connor and Angela. The rest will work itself out.

Maybe it was time to give that a try.



* * *



The table was set, the duck roasting away in the oven. I’d planned dinner for seven, just to be safe, but by now it was past six and still nothing from Connor. If he was closing the store at five, then what in the world was taking him so long?

Maybe a customer had come in at the last minute. Even so, it shouldn’t be taking this long. I turned on the oven light and peered in, but I was still far from having to worry about overcooking the bird; it had only been in there for half an hour. No, my checking on it was nerves more than anything else.

For a minute I contemplated running upstairs to check my hair and makeup, but I hadn’t done anything to mess up either of those, so that was just me coming up with a way to kill some time. I didn’t have any footwear except the riding boots I’d picked out at Nordstrom Rack what felt like eons ago but I knew was only two months past. But with dark skinny jeans tucked into them and that gorgeous concho belt riding my hips, and a dark teal sweater over a lace-trimmed cami, I thought I was looking better than usual. Whether Connor would notice was a different story.

Then I heard a sort of thump-pause, thump-pause coming from the corridor outside the front door. Frowning, I left the kitchen and headed to the entryway, then stopped. It wasn’t as if I could open the door to see what was going on out there.

As I was wondering whether I could press my face up to the peephole without getting one of those nasty magically induced shocks, the door swung open. Connor stood on the threshold, gripping a gorgeous Noble fir with a look of grim determination on his face.

I stared at him, mouth slightly agape, and he said, “I thought we should have a Christmas tree,” before tightening his grasp on the tree and coming inside.

At once I moved out of the way so he could take the tree past me and on into the living room. I noticed that it had a plastic water bowl already attached to it, most likely put on by the people at the tree lot.

“How in the world did you get hold of a Christmas tree that nice at five o’clock on Christmas Eve?”

The green eyes glinted. “Magic.”

I tilted my head. “Magic.” I didn’t know Connor all that well yet — heck, I wasn’t even exactly sure what his talent was, although I figured it had something to do with illusion — but I did know his was not the type of magic that controlled minds or involved any other sort of coercion. No, that was more up Damon’s alley.

“Okay, a judicious bribe. Anyway, I had to go by our storage unit to dig out the box of Christmas ornaments, so it took me a little longer than I thought.” He sniffed the air. “That smells awesome.”