Easy Magic (Boudreaux #5)

“What do you do?”


“I own a business,” he says. “Has anyone ever told you you have gorgeous eyes?”

“I don’t know.” And I don’t. I can barely remember my name right now. Between being scared and looking at the sexiest man I think I’ve ever seen, I’m a mess.

“Well, you do.”

“Thank you.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Santa Rosa. We should be on the ground in about fifteen minutes, but it’s going to be bumpy. Seems we have a lot of wind coming in off the ocean. Hang tight, we’ll have you on the ground in just a few minutes.”

“Oh God.”

“You’re doing so great,” Mac says, and I can’t help but laugh. “You really are. We’re almost there.”

I nod and hold his hand tightly as we descend. I hate the way it makes my stomach roll. I’ve never been good at amusement park rides or long road trips.

Motion sickness is a real thing.

Finally—finally—we’re on the ground. I’ve never been so happy in my life.

“You did it. You survived your first plane ride.” Mac smiles proudly, and I smile back.

“I did it.”

I’m going to throw up.

We’re soon parked at the gate, and the doors open. I stand, grab my suitcase, and make a run for the Jetway. I need a bathroom.

Now.

I’m sweaty. My heart is pounding. Of course, leave it to me to have a panic attack after the fact.

Thankfully, there’s a bathroom near the gate. I rush inside, find a stall, and heave until my body aches and I’m drenched in more sweat.

Sweet baby Jesus, I need to get to the hotel.

But I survived, and that’s all that matters.

[no ornament]

It’s amazing what a hot shower, a thirty-minute nap, and room service can do.

A few hours later, I’m feeling much better. Which is good because I have to go down to the welcome party and socialize.

I have made some friends in the wine business, most of which has been online or over the phone. I’m excited to meet them in person and put some faces with the voices.

I lean in to apply my lipstick, then grin at my reflection.

“I rocked that flight.” I snort. “Okay, I survived it, and that’s kind of the same thing.” I shrug and take stock of myself. It’s a vast improvement to when I arrived. I can’t even imagine what poor Mac must have thought of me as I rushed off without even thanking him. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I’d just throw up all over him, and that would have been horrific.

But now my hair is back in place, with big curls and cute pink bunny pins holding it off my face. I’m in a black dress, military style, with chunky pink heels, and I brought my awesome pink patent-leather handbag to match.

I’m ready to mingle, drink some wine, and meet new people.

The ballroom is already mostly full of people. This week-long conference is comprehensive and big. There will be tours through most of the wineries in the area, workshops, dinners.

I’m most excited to tour the vineyards. It’s my favorite thing to do.

I walk to the bar, order a glass of a local Pinot that I don’t know well, and turn to take in the room.

“Are you Kat Myers?”

I turn and grin. “I am.”

“Sally Franks,” the pretty redhead says, and holds her hand out. “We’ve talked a few times.”

“Yes! Hi, Sally.” I shake her hand. “How are things in Denver?”

“Great,” she replies. “But it’s nice to get away. How was your flight?”

“Bumpy.” I smile, but I immediately want to change the subject, not wanting to relive the terror from this morning. Someone walks up behind me. Sally’s eyes go wide.

“You look like you’re feeling better.”

Mac. That’s Mac’s voice in my ear. A shiver runs through me as I turn around and look up, way up, into his green eyes.

“I am,” I reply, and take a sip of my wine. Was he that good-looking on the plane? “I didn’t realize you were attending this conference.”

“You had other things on your mind earlier,” he says smoothly, and motions for the bartender. “I’ll have what she’s having, and another for her as well.”

“What if you don’t like Pinot?” I ask and tilt my head to the side.

“I like it all,” he says with a wink.

Oh my.

“Do you know many people here?” he asks, nodding toward Sally, who has moved on to chat with another group of people.

“A few. I’ve not met most of them in person, unless they were up in Washington or Oregon. How about you?”

“Same,” he says with a grin. “This is my first conference down in Napa Valley. And it’s off to a great start.”

“Right.” I laugh and shake my head. “Dealing with a crazy chick on the plane is exactly the best way to start your trip.”

“It is,” he says, and looks me dead in the eye. “She wasn’t that crazy. She was scared. There’s a difference.”

“Well, she’s fine now.”

“I’m glad.” His lips tip up into a smile and my stomach clenches. He has a dimple in his left cheek.

I want to lick it.

I take a sip of my fresh glass of wine and smirk to myself. Perhaps Mac fits the sexcation bill.

“What just went through that gorgeous head of yours?”

“I’m not drunk enough to tell you yet,” I reply honestly. Mac’s eyes widen briefly, and then he simply smiles at me.

“There’s a lot of wine in this place.”

“Thank God for that.”

A few hours later, after chatting with many people, new and those I already know, including Mac, he escorts me up to my room.

Sexcation.

But when we reach my door, he leans in and kisses my cheek. Just the cheek. I frown up at him.

“This is supposed to be a sexcation, not a fucking dating game.” It’s a grumble, but I’m shocked to hear the words actually leave my lips, rather than stay in my head where they’re supposed to be.

“A what?” Mac asks.

“Nothing.” I shake my head and pull my key card out of my handbag. “Good night.”

“Kat?”

“Yeah.” I look back at him and sigh a little at the sexy dimple in his cheek and the way his shirt pulls against his shoulders as he leans on the doorframe.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“It’s already morning,” I remind him.

“It won’t be too long, then.” He kisses my cheek again and walks away, and I let myself into the room, set my bag down, and plop onto the bed.

“Dumb sexcation isn’t working out the way it’s supposed to.” I pout, but before I know it, I’m drifting to sleep, dreaming of a sexy green-eyed man with a dimple in his cheek.