Call It Business ( Book 3 of 'Call It' Series )

Chapter 58 | Ceasefire

Watching Macy Wallace from the distance had become quite a habit Gerard had made during the social gatherings and events, or... whenever she was around. His current state of failing to take his eyes off of her proved that their relationship status couldn't help that annoying temptation.

In his defense, there was that silky laugh that fell from her throat, easily tuning down every other sound. At least for him. In the past, when he hadn't officially met her, it had often awakened a mild curiosity and blatant frustration in him toward whoever made her laugh like that. Yes, some might call it jealousy, but the schematics hardly mattered.

What mattered was that she had that ethereal glow that had stopped him multiple times from doing something as simple as going there and asking her for a dance. Not only there was a visible, egomaniacal competition around her that went undetected by her and often ended up with her rambling about some cults, ghosts, or both to send the men off, but also... She'd flip that coin. Just as she was doing right now as she leaned against a tree, and Gerard could swear the whole universe would come together to serve her.

At that moment and every other moment, the sunlight shaped itself to trace the contours of her body. The breeze caressed the artless waves of her golden hair, making them dance on her porcelain shoulders and favoring the air with the intoxicating elixir of her warm scent. She was too much to disturb by something as mundane as a dance. He was aware that the same thing had stopped Mark in that event three years ago. He knew that feeling. Her presence paralyzed and conquered one in his spot, and as much as it had made Eloise laugh with mockery, Gerard had never deemed himself as someone, who deserved that kind of magic in his life.

"You made me fall in love with you, and I'll forever hate you for it!" She'd screamed at him last night as she'd paced around his room like a white-hot tornado. In all fairness, only his witch could have turned love into a personalized insult for herself.

He absolutely had no idea what he'd particularly done other than desperately being in love with her, and it still felt surreal... and too delicate to question. In contrary to her, who believed in multiple gods, spirits, and entities; Gerard didn't believe in any, yet there was an odd and warm sense of gratitude in his chest, which he directed to... fate and luck.

Her expressive brown eyes lifted up to the branches of the tree, and even from the distance, Gerard could catch the mischievous gleam shimmering in it. Following her gaze, he found the target of the mesmerizing smirk that took over her plum-colored lips.

A squirrel.

Every creature on the damn Earth had no chance against his wife, truly.

Addicting witch.

She raised a fingerless leather-gloved hand, her charm bracelet shimmering under the sun. Her lips moved, and Gerard knew that squirrel was in for a few secrets and a funny story.

"Are you listening to me?"

No, not really.

His brother's demanding note got him off the daze, although a smirk was still playing on his lips. "I lost interest as soon as you opened your mouth," he replied drily, keeping his gaze on the witch in the distance, "But go on."

Eric exasperated a sigh, and he had to be in quite a desperate state because he went on, "Look, all this time, Eva and I were trying to handle this in silence. I first noticed one of the art pieces at a gathering at Harrington's, but they refused to tell me where they bought it. Then, at a restaurant owned by –"

And Barbara and Kurt Cohen just stopped by to interrupt her. The witch spun on her heels, greeting them with a melting smile that was in total contrast to their stony expression. Whatever Barbara said, it wasn't enough to dim the light of her features, but Gerard knew her. His wife, despite her claims, was no method actress. How she immediately wrapped her arm around her belly told him she was tense.