Spelled Kiss | Coven Corner #2

Chapter Twelve

For the next hour, Sean remained in the small guestroom at the back of the house while Galen spelled his ribs together again. Outside the door of Sean's room, a collection of Torres siblings had gathered, curly red heads tipped forward, eagerly listening to the muffled conversation on the other side of the door.

"Get away from there," Naomi said, shooing them down the hall. "Leave the poor boy to rest. He doesn't need you poking your noses in his business. He doesn't feel well. Go. And be quiet about it. I don't want to hear you stomping all over the house."

Bryony lingered in the kitchen, putting together a tray of food for Sean—pumpkin pie, potato stew, and clove tea. It wasn't an apology, she told herself. And it wasn't out of gratitude either. Healing magic took a toll and he would need the strength to fly home.

So, she was simply making the meal in order to get him out of her hair faster.

Naomi sighed as she came down the hallway and entered the kitchen. She eased herself into a chair, one hand pressed to the small of her back.

"I still can't believe that sweet boy took the fall for you," she said.

Bryony made no reply and retrieved the jar of honey from the cabinet, spooning out a generous helping into the tea.

Naomi propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand.

"He seems very attentive to you these days," she said. "You know, if the interest is mutual, we don't have any rules about dating co-workers."

Bryony groaned and let the spoon clatter into the teacup.

"Mom," she said.

"What?" Naomi replied.

"It's not like that. Trust me."

Naomi shrugged. "There's no harm in a little flirtation."

"I don't want a little flirtation."

"Does Sean know that?"

Bryony turned to face her mother, leaning back against the counter.

"If he hasn't figured it out by now, he's thick-headed."

"Bryony," Naomi said in a chastising tone. "Don't be harsh. He saved you today. Try not to be too hard on him. I know boys can be...difficult. Especially Sean. I remember the rocky history you two had in school."

"Then you know there is no chance that we could ever like each other in the way you're implying," Bryony said. She set the teacup down on the tray with a bang that made the china rattle like teeth in fear.

Naomi held up a hand.

"Just make sure you thank him for what he did," she said. "That's all I'm saying."

"I will," Bryony replied.

She picked up the tray and carried it down the hall to the guestroom. She hesitated a moment, listening for any sounds of pain, but none came. Tentatively, she knocked.

"It's open," Sean replied.

Bryony eased the door open to find Sean sitting up in bed. The buttons of his shirt had been left undone, exposing his collarbones and a good portion of his chest. Galen sat in a chair beside him, tucking his wand into his jacket pocket.

"You're good as new, Sean," Galen said. "Shouldn't even feel a pinch. But if you do, let me know and I'll see to it right away."

"Thank you, Mr. Torres."

"After all you've done, please just call me Galen."

Sean nodded and Galen rose from his chair, slipping past Bryony and closing the door behind him.

Bryony stood there, clutching the tray, and she looked at Sean. The bruises were gone. The pain that had pinched between his eyebrows and around his mouth had vanished. His eyes were bright once again with barely restrained mischief.

"I brought you dinner," Bryony said, shoving the tray forward.

Sean reached out to take it and his hands came to within an inch of touching her fingers. Bryony abandoned the tray, practically throwing it into his lap.

"And Mom said I should...thank you," she added, hooking her thumbs in her back pocket. "But you look okay now so I'll just...go."

She spun on her heel, hating how awkward and wobbly her voice sounded. What was wrong with her? Why was she suddenly on pins and needles around Sean?

"You could stay," Sean said. "If you wanted."

Bryony stopped, her fingers around on the door knob, ready to escape.

"Because I'm better now," he continued. "I suppose you'll go back to being mean to me again, right?"

Bryony whirled to face him, mouth open, protests burning hot on her tongue. Sean raised his eyebrows, chin tilted up. Waiting.

"I know why," he said.

"What are you talking about?" Bryony said.

"The reason you're mean to me."

"If you say it's because I like you, Saint Circe above, I will break your nose and I won't get Dad to fix it this time. You can just live with the pain."

Sean huffed a laugh and shook his head. He set the tray on the nightstand and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"That's not what I was going to say," he said.

"Really?" Bryony said, skeptical.

He nodded. "You're mean because you're testing people."

She squinted at him. "Excuse me?"

"Only the people who truly matter to you will see that half the things you say are just..." He shrugged. "Talk. Empty words to protect yourself. Anyone who can't handle your sharp tongue walks right out of your life again and you don't give them a second thought."

"You haven't been around for years, Sean. Just because we knew each other in school doesn't mean you know me now."

Sean made a thoughtful sound. "That's a good point. I'll have to remind you of that later when you think I'm making fun of you like I used to."

Bryony's mouth dropped open but any protest died on her lips.

He was right. Curse him.

Sean rose to his feet and came to stand in front of Bryony. But he didn't touch her, didn't attempt to reach out and grab for her hair when he was nine.

He kept his distance. He smelled like pine and moss and damp forest. She could feel the heat radiating off of him and her fingers itched with the absurd thought to trace that dip between his collar bones...

Bryony's gaze darted up to Sean's face as she swallowed hard.

"You look worried," he whispered.

Bryony shook her head, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth.

"I'm okay," he said. "Everything's been mended and I'm good as new again. But..." He paused and a wicked little glint came to life in his eyes. "If you're really concerned, a kiss would make everything better."

Bryony frowned. She reached over to the nightstand, picked up the bowl of potato stew and dumped it down the front of his shirt. She spun on her heel and stalked out of the room, leaving Sean standing there, dripping clumps of potato onto the floor.

"I'll take that as a no then," Sean said.