Spice & Thyme Series

GINNY

I rolled over and the pain from my bruised hip stirred me out of sleep. A quick glance at my cell phone told me I hadn’t quite reached the ten-hour stretch I had promised myself, but close enough.

I stretched my arms wide, which was an apparent invitation for Persephone to join me at my pillow.

She was deeply independent and only curled on the bed with me when I woke up or when she sensed I was upset.

I definitely wasn’t upset last night. The bathtub fun continued in the bedroom until I finally fell asleep sometime after midnight.

I had fantasized about Matt in the tub with me, then on the kitchen table, in the woods on nature’s blanket after we had ridden his bike together.

All the while, he kept telling me that he had fantasized about fucking me ever since he saw my picture. The mere thought that such a sexy man could crave me like that made me horny again.

“Enough,” I said out loud, causing Persephone to bolt off the bed and back to her all-time favorite spot in the closet laundry basket.

“Coffee. It’s time for coffee.” The announcement was for my own purposes nowadays, but I used to say those words to Jason when he struggled to get out of bed.

Another stretch as I rose from the bed, the cool morning air wafting in through the open windows. I was in the nude since I went from tub time to bedtime and had seen no need for PJs.

Not an often occurrence, but if I wasn’t worrying that I might have to run out of the house in the middle of the night (thank you, Jason, for planting that fear in my head), it was a preferred sleeping arrangement.

I ran my fingers through my hair as I approached the near floor-to-ceiling windows, snagging on the knots I never combed out last night.

My old colonial farmhouse was centered on a twelve-acre lot only frequented by customers, the occasional visit with Alisha after hours, and a whole lot of wildlife.

Since the shop was closed today, therefore no customers, Alisha was visiting with her brother, and I didn't care what the wildlife cared about my nakedness, I took the opportunity to continue feeling sexy.

I pushed the curtains aside so I could close the drafty windows.

It reminded me of a trip I took to New York City with Jason once. We were on the thirty-third floor of a ritzy hotel and he wanted to fuck me at the window.

He wanted me bare naked, facing the window, and when I pointed out that people could look up or across from similar height rooms and apartments, he told me I worried too much.

He pushed and rubbed against me, bending me forward at the hips like we were on display. Oh, it was a little bit of a turn-on at first, until I saw his reflection in the glass.

His eyes weren't on me. He was watching something out the window.

That something happened to be a perky, barely dressed woman working out in her living room, directly across from our thirty-third floor room.

I was tempted to stop his charade of wanting to fuck me because I knew if he thought he could get away with masturbating at the window he would.

Ever since then, anytime I found myself in a high-rise hotel, I would stand naked at the window in hopes of another man seeing me and being turned on by me.

It was stupid, I know, and I stopped after the first few times, disappointed the opportunity never presented itself and relieved that I never got caught nor caught a man masturbating to seeing me in the window.

In all honesty, it wigged me out, but still… watching Jason getting off to a stranger in a window more than me, his in-the-flesh, naked girlfriend, did a number on my self-esteem for a while.

So imagine my surprise when, after I closed the window, I realized there was a vehicle in the parking lot.

I didn't recognize the black, mid-size SUV, but it was common enough to have belonged to any customer.

I didn't freak out because there was no one in the car, which meant they were on the front porch and did not have a line of sight to my window.

They would go away once they realized I wasn't open on Mondays.

I strained my neck some to see if I could get a look from my angle, but no luck. I grabbed the edges of the curtains and started to pull them closed when I saw him.

Standing on the lawn, in front of the window, with his hands tucked into his front blue jeans’ pockets. Looking up at me. Matt.

He had enough manners to look away once we made eye contact, or maybe he just wasn't interested. But what the hell was he doing here? He was supposed to be visiting Alisha.

I tugged the curtains together and through the sheer material saw him approach the porch instead of veering off to the parking lot. Seriously? Did he think I was going to let him in?

I waited for a knock at the door, but none came. Then I waited for the sound of his car leaving, but none came.

My cell phone chimed. “You've got to be kidding me,” I said to no one. I snatched a robe off the back of the bedroom door, opting for the thick, soft velour one over the silky kimono one.

Wasn’t quite feeling sexy at the moment. Embarrassed? Yes. Sexy? Not so much.

The number appearing on my cell phone was from California, Matt’s home state. I reluctantly answered.

“Hello?”

“Ginny, sorry to bother you, but I was hoping I could talk to you. It’s Matt, by the way.”

As if I couldn't recognize that deep, sultry voice.

“I'm not open today, Matt.”

“I know. I'm sorry. It's just...” He trailed off and I had a flicker of excitement. Was I on his mind like he was on mine?

It felt like minutes, not seconds before he continued. “I want to talk to you about Alisha.”

If my anticipation was a balloon, he’d just popped it. I mean, seriously, did I think I had a chance in hell to land that man-god in my bed? Or tub? Or kitchen table?

“Like I said, it’s my day off, Matt, and aren't you supposed to be visiting with your sister? Why aren't you there?”

“Liam.” His tone was flat, and if I could tear my head away from the gutter long enough, I would probably sense his emotions more clearly. He was an interruption in my empathic capabilities.

Damn. Why did I have to meet my fantasy man in real life? It was screwing with my brain.

“What about Liam?”

“Can I just come in and talk with you? I'll pay you for a session if that's what you want.”

I couldn't help but chuckle. The man who thought I had to attend a Voodoo University to learn my craft wanted to pay me for a session.

“Look, I know you don't like me that much,” Matt continued, “but this isn't about me. This is about Alisha. And I know you care about her. That's obvious.”

“Give me a few minutes to get dressed,” I conceded.

“Don't get dressed on my account. I'm happy to talk to you in your birthday suit.”

“Haha, funny,” I said, and disconnected the call.

My cheeks flushed warm, and I mulled the idea that maybe me being naked was okay in his mind. Or maybe he was just stroking my ego so I would be nice to him.

I've seen the women in his life on social media. Drop-dead gorgeous. And there were so many. I was not the beach rock that stood out enough to be picked up as a memento, naked or not.

After throwing on enough clothes to feel concealed, I gargled mouthwash and purposefully took my time going down the stairs.

He may want to stroke my ego, but I didn't need him thinking for one second that I was all gaga over him. His ego was big enough.

I opened the door to him leaning against the handrail, his arms and his ankles crossed, like my granddad used to stand waiting and waiting for my grandmother to finish shopping.

I gave an exaggerated welcome gesture as I opened the door further, and he pushed off the railing and came in, nose wrinkling once again to the odor.

As he walked past me, he said, “You seriously didn't have to overdress for me.”

I looked down at my oversized Tom Petty sweatshirt, gray sweatpants, and gray plaid canvas low-top sneakers. “It’s my day off. Comfort prevails.“

“You looked pretty comfortable in the window,“ he said as he turned to face me.

“Yeah, sorry about that,“ I answered, and shut the door, determined not to be embarrassed in front of him. I do have my pride.

“Sorry?” He shook his head and gave me a perplexed facial expression. As if a thought suddenly dawned on him, he added, “I'm not interrupting something, am I?”

He pointed to the ceiling, indicating the upstairs.

It took me a few seconds before I realized he was asking if I had a companion in my bed.

Another few seconds passed as I debated letting him think I was worthy of having a sex partner or telling the truth.

“No. Not interrupting.” Just vague enough to let him think whatever he wanted. “Come on. Let's go to the kitchen. Need my coffee.”

I indicated the door to my living space, and he proceeded ahead of me, allowing me to watch him stride toward my kitchen.

Damn fine ass. And back muscles, and contoured biceps and forearms, and man oh man did that black t-shirt fit him perfectly.

“Have a seat,“ I said, indicating the small, round table with two matching chairs. It dawned on me that no one had been in my kitchen besides Alisha. It felt strange and slightly intrusive.

“Want a coffee? Assuming you'll drink it black. No cream or milk.”

“Well, aren't you sadistic?”

Lord help me, I couldn't not laugh. “Is that a no?” I asked and looked at him. His smile was big, and he was obviously pleased that he got a laugh out of me.

“You have a nice laugh. He actually sounded genuine. Was he ego-stroking me? I couldn’t tell. It wasn’t often that I couldn’t get an accurate read on someone.

“Thanks,” I responded and turned to the task of preparing a pot of coffee. After that was done, I made a single-serve cup and slid one to him while the next one gurgled.

He took the mug and looked into it, turning the mug in a circle. He was lost in his own thoughts, and his face grew pensive. Yes, something heavy was on his mind.

I let him be while I waited for my coffee and watched him as he aimlessly turned the mug in front of him around and around in circles.

Once I sat in the chair opposite him, he looked up at me, and I could literally see his brain coming back from the depths of thought before he smiled, just enough to be sexy.

“Liam?” I asked. “What about Liam brought you to my house?”

“Well, for starters, I had no idea he existed.”

The pseudo-therapist in me opened her mouth before I could help it. “And what about that bothers you?”

Matt lowered his eyes to his coffee and started the twirling thing again. “So, you read tea leaves?”

“We established that yesterday. What does that have to do with Liam?”

“Would you read my leaves?” He looked up from his coffee. He was serious. I didn't know whether to call BS or not.

“Why?” is what I said.

But I really wanted to say, Why on God's green earth do you want me to read your leaves? You obviously create your own destiny and don't need any insight from a higher power. What are you up to?

“I've never had them read before.” He shrugged and fidgeted with his mug some more.

“Why now?”

He looked at me perplexed. “Because it's not every day that you have a real-live tea-leaf reader in your presence. If it's about money, I'll pay double.”

“It's not about the money, Matt.”

“I know, you make more than I do.” He lowered his head again as if he felt defeated.

“If I read your leaves, I may see stuff you don't want me to see. You may not like what I see, what Spirit has to say. It's not a game where I tell you what you want to hear.”

“Yeah, I know you're the real deal.”

That threw me for a loop. “What happened to Voodoo University?”

He glanced up at me from his mesmerizing cup of coffee, which was getting cold fast. “That was an asshole thing to say. I'm sorry.”

“Who are you and what did you do with Matt?”

He chuckled but said nothing.

I watched him—not looked at him, watched him—for any tell-tale signs that he was bullshitting me. I set my ego aside so I could tap into the energy around us.

Was I actually considering reading the leaves of my fantasy man? To delve into his life? To see and explore the unseen? What if I didn't like what I saw?

But reading someone's leaves wasn't about me, it was about sharing and acknowledging any messages Spirit had to offer.

It wasn’t even about the leaves themselves. That was only a way to connect with Spirit. I could connect with Spirit through a toothbrush if I wanted to.

I was torn. I sensed he was sincere and really wanted to hear what the leaves would say, or Spirit, really, but I wasn't sure I should be the one to tell him his fortune.

I mean, the man had just seen me naked. Could I keep my feelings, my desires out of the reading?

“Why the change, Matt? Yesterday you wanted nothing to do with a reading. And you still haven't told me what the deal is with Liam.

“You know I can't pry into Alisha’s life by reading your leaves, right?”

“Look, if you don't want to read them for me, just say so.” He started to rise from his chair.

Honestly, I didn't want him to leave. I was intrigued. His cockiness was set aside, and I was curious to know what was beneath his bravado.

I knew I was at risk of destroying my fantasy man, but there were plenty of others to choose from. Yet that thought bothered me. I didn't want to fantasize about a different man.

For months, I had daydreamed about Matt and perused his social media accounts—well, mostly those of his female followers.

He seldom posted anything, but any woman who could claim she knew him posted pictures.

“I didn't say I wouldn't do it.”

He sat down again. “Okay. So, you will?”

“Normally I do this by appointment only, but since you're just visiting, I will make an exception on one condition.

“After the reading, you need to tell me what's up with Liam. What made you come here to talk about him.”

Matt seemed to think about it. “Okay, agreed. What do you charge?”

“Sixty dollars, twenty minutes.”

I waited for some smartass remark, but he fished three twenty-dollar bills from his wallet and placed them on the table. “Don't you need to get changed into your costume?”

“My costume?”

“Yeah, you know, like the outfit you were wearing yesterday.”

Again, he made me laugh. “That wasn't a costume. It's how I normally dress.

He glared at Tom Petty on the front of my sweatshirt. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Ninety percent of my wardrobe is like my quote-unquote ‘costume.’ The rest are pjs and I-can-eat-as-much-ice-cream-as-I-want clothes.”

“Oh, you do own pajamas? You could have fooled me earlier.”

Dammit! He caught me off guard and I blushed before I could control myself. “Yeah, sorry about that again.”

“Why do you say sorry about that? I was the one staring.”

Staring? Had he been staring at me naked? Probably stunned that not all women were as beautiful naked as his usual ones.

I turned away before I really embarrassed myself and set about boiling water for the tea.

“Any allergies I should know before I make your tea?”

“Not that I'm aware of, but I'd rather not have bat wings or…what was that other stuff called? Horny goat weed?”

“I doubt at your age you would need that.” I chuckled, mostly to take my mind off him staring at me naked.

“How about raspberry leaves and lemon balm?”

“Sounds good.”

I went about my task in silence, setting an anointed white candle in the middle of the table. I kicked off my shoes and continued barefoot, more for comfort than any ritual reason.

I asked Spirit and my favorite Spirit Guide to help me give Matt a good reading, as if he were just any customer and not the man I just took a bath with in my mind a few short hours ago.

Five minutes later, I placed a teacup with a teaspoon of the loose tea and a saucer in front of him. I poured hot, not boiling water into the cup and replaced the kettle to the stove.

I came back to my seat and said, “While it's steeping, I want you to close your eyes and think about any insight you'd like to receive from Spirit.”

“Is this part of the twenty minutes?”

“Focus, Matt.”

“It's kind of hard to focus with you sitting there.”

“Then close your eyes and think about what you want answers to.”

Why was it hard for him to focus with me there?

He did as instructed without another word, and I'll be damned, he actually sat there for five minutes with his eyes closed, his hands rested in his lap and his head slightly bent forward.

His posture was to be envied and his breathing was steady. If I didn't know better, I would say he practiced meditation on a regular basis.

“You can drink your tea now.”

He lifted his head and reached for the cup. “It's so dainty.” Just one of his hands could practically wrap around the cup's circumference.

He downed the tea in one gulp and placed it back on the saucer with a sneer. I didn't even have the chance to tell him not to swallow the leaves.

“You didn't drink all the leaves, did you?”

“How would you read my leaves if I swallowed them?”

“No leaves tell a story too.”

“Well, I left you some leaves to read.” He pushed the cup and saucer toward me, slumped back in his chair, and crossed his arms. So much for great posture.

I pulled the cup closer to me and looked down into the bone china. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and quietly thanked Spirit for the opportunity to share my gift.

As usual, when I opened my eyes, I saw the cup and the leaves. But somewhere in my mind, I saw more, felt more, heard more, smelled more.

My sixth sense utilized my physical senses to relay messages. My surroundings blurred in my peripheral vision, and the messages took over.

“The SUV you drove here. It's yours. You own it.”

“Yes.”

“So is the motorcycle you drove last night. You didn't fly out here from California. You drove cross-country.”

Matt was silent. I looked into my mind's eye more. “You're not visiting Alisha. You're moving out here. You want to put plenty of space between you and your life out there.”

I glanced up at him. He was no longer slouched back but leaning forward in keen interest.

I returned my sight to the cup. There was more. What I saw couldn't be real. Could it?

In my mind, I reminded Spirit that I was to be separated from the reading and not to put my own thoughts into it.

I couldn't talk. I couldn't tell Matt what I saw.

I stood up and took the cup to the faucet, where I rinsed it out and turned it upside down in the marble farmhouse double sink.

I couldn't look at Matt. I just stared at the veins in the stone, letting my eyes follow their twists and turns.

“What happened?” he said after a minute of no words from me.

I turned around and shrugged. “Nothing. I didn't see anything else.”

“You're lying.” He stood up and approached me, getting very, very close. I crossed my arms, to put a barrier between us or maybe just out of defiance. Did it matter why?

“You saw something else, didn't you?”

“No. Just that you're moving out here.” I shrugged.

He grabbed me by my bent elbows and drew me away from the sink. He pulled me in toward him. His chest was right in my face with only my folded arms keeping me from touching it.

“Look at me,” he said.

I couldn't. What I saw couldn't be real. He wanted me. Badly. Had I somehow cast a spell on him? Unintentionally, of course, because I would never do that to someone for my benefit.

The temptation was there, certainly in his case, but if I were going to have sex with someone, I wanted it to be because there was a mutual attraction, not because I used magic on him.

He put a hand under my chin and lifted my face. I closed my eyes. I didn’t dare look at him.

There was no way this gorgeous man truly wanted me unless he was under a spell or just wanted another notch in his belt.

“Matt, I think you should leave now.”

“Open your eyes,” he responded.

I did so reluctantly. I didn’t want him to see the fear in my eyes. Fear that I had somehow tricked him into wanting me.

The air around us was thick with desire and the excitement blooming between my legs made it difficult not to move into him, to let my arms and my guard down.

“I want you and you saw that.” His breath was hot against my flesh.

I shook my head. “No. No, I didn’t see that.”

Although he was gentle about it, his hands were strong, and it took little effort on his part to uncross my arms.

He wrapped one arm behind my back and drew me closer, so close there was nothing but Tom Petty and his sexy black t-shirt between us. His frame was all muscle and hard.

I had to be dreaming. I was still in bed, asleep. I wanted to give in to the lust, the desire, my pounding heart. But I couldn’t. It was wrong.

“You’re my best friend’s brother. I can’t.”

“I don’t think Alisha cares,” he whispered as he nuzzled toward my neck, and his words were like a promise to keep it all a secret if need be.

My knees felt weak, and I could feel my whole being fall into him.

“I did see something else,” I said in an effort to sever the connection between us. “You brought your paints with you.”

He stepped back a foot and cocked his head at me. Good, the topic change was working.

“Did Alisha tell you that?”

“I haven’t talked to Alisha about you moving out here or that you’re an artist.” I took the opportunity to inch away from our close proximity and skirted back to the table.

Matt turned his body, watching me pull away. I could not give in to this moment, at least not until I knew without a doubt that I had not created the situation through magical intention.

“Matt, look, I think you should just leave and go talk to Alisha about whatever issue you are having with Liam. It’s my day off and I have a lot of stuff to do.”

I had to stop myself from rambling because I couldn’t have another close call like that.

He put his hands up in defeat. “I get it. You’re not interested. Why would you be? My mistake. I’m sorry to bother you on your day off.”

He pushed past me, and I listened as he left the shop. Within a minute I heard the sound of his car’s engine and realized I was holding my breath.

What the hell just happened? I dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. I practiced breathing to slow down my thumping heart.

Persephone mewed and started her cursory sign of affection. She nearly slammed her head into my leg and caressed the length of her body along my sweatpants.

Now that the guest was gone, she demanded my attention.

I snatched the money off the table and stood to prepare Persephone’s breakfast. As I was folding the cash to put into my pocket, I felt Matt’s presence.

I could sense energy off items and didn't expect the rush of confusion I felt. So many thoughts and worries and fears mingled with one defining thought.

Everything Matt had given up in California to move out here was centered around me.

God help me, I had seduced the man to uproot his life to come here and find me. I hadn't realized just how powerful my manifestation powers were.

Maybe it didn't matter that I had lured him here. Maybe I could have my fantasy man. The mere thought gave me butterflies in my stomach.

But could I do that? Just give in to the desire without caring about what he really wanted?

And how long would he be under my spell? Long enough to fulfill our desires and then wake up to realize he had made a mistake?

I was at a complete loss as to what to do.