Grace nodded. “I sure did.”
“Something about flavored lube and nipple clamps?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, goddess. How do I stop this? I don’t want your dirty thoughts in my mind,” Hope said, sinking back down onto the log she’d been sitting on earlier. “This could be a nightmare. How? Why? I’ve never heard anyone’s thoughts before. Is it some sort of full moon thing? Did someone curse me?”
“Whoa. Calm down.” Grace moved to sit next to her, putting an arm around Hope’s shoulders. “You’ve never heard thoughts before?”
“No. Have you?”
Grace shook her head. “Nope. But I’d never cursed anyone with acne or genital warts until last month either. Did you know I accidentally made Bill’s pants split right down the middle a couple of days ago?”
“You’re joking,” Joy said, her eyes wide.
“Nope. I ran into him at a house showing, and he tried to take credit for all of my success. All I could think about was that he was showing his ass… again. And the next thing I knew there was a loud split. The best part? He was going commando.” She sputtered with laughter and wiped at her eyes as she gasped in a breath. “His client made a quick retreat, leaving mine as the only bidder on the house, instead of the bidding war we’d anticipated. She got a great deal.”
“Is that ethical?” Joy asked. “Cursing the competition to get a better deal for your client?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Grace insisted. “It just… happened. That’s the point. Hope isn’t listening to our thoughts on purpose either. The question is, can she control it? So far, I haven’t been able to completely control my revenge spells. I just get angry and think something, and the next thing I know, I’ve given the office jerk acne.” She shrugged. “I’m trying to work on having more charitable thoughts, but sometimes things get away from me.”
Hope groaned. “Please don’t let this be permanent. As much as I love you guys, I really don’t want to hear things about your sex lives.”
Grace chuckled while Joy grimaced and then buried her face in her hands. When she finally looked up, Joy turned to Grace. “Nipple clamps? Seriously? Is that what you and Owen are up to?”
“No,” Grace said with a cackle. “But if I were you, I’d give it a try. I mean, seriously, Joy. You deserve a sex life. Just because you’ve been married for nearly thirty years doesn’t mean you should be regulated to the sidelines.”
Joy sighed. “I’m willing to try anything. I just…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what the problem is. Paul has never been an every-night kind of guy, but I could usually count on at least once a week. This past year has been drought city, and he won’t even talk about it.”
“Well, let’s give him something to talk about.” Hope jumped back up to her feet, waved at her friends to join her, and then snapped her fingers. The candles came to life, flickering wildly in the evening breeze. Hope raised her hands to the sky and said, “Goddess of the sea, hear our desires.”
Joy and Grace repeated her words.
“Let the power of the wind and sea reverse this youth spell and return my locks back to their natural state.”
Magic zipped around the circle twice and then coiled through Hope’s hair just as it had earlier. After a few seconds, it vanished just as the candles went dark.
“Did it work?” Hope asked, tentatively.
Grace and Joy shared a concerned glance.
“It didn’t. Did it?” Hope asked, reaching up to touch her hair. It was definitely longer, but it also felt fuller, wilder, as if she’d forgotten to use product or try to tame it in any way. “Oh, no.”
“You did say to return it to its natural state,” Grace said.
“I didn’t mean… oh never mind.” Hope dug a hair tie out of her pocket and went to work, trying to tame her out of control curls. “I’ll make an appointment with Lance first thing.”
“Probably a good idea,” Grace agreed. “Now, let’s work on that spell to bring the magic back to Joy’s bedroom, shall we?”
A half hour later, once they’d conjured a spell to help Paul get it up, Grace and Joy hugged Hope goodbye and went home to their men. Hope stayed behind and stood at the edge of the sea, staring out at the crashing waves. At midnight she’d turn a year older. Normally she’d take that in stride. Hope wasn’t afraid of getting older. She embraced life. Except this year, she had Lucas to deal with. And every time she saw him, all she could think about was what her life would’ve been like if he hadn’t walked out on her… twice.
She let out a grunt of frustration and tried to forget she had to host the open house for Lucas’s new store, Against the Grain Interiors, the next evening.
It was going to be the worst birthday in years.
The wind whipped up around her, blowing her out of control hair back. And as she stood there, she heard the wind whisper, He’s here. If you embrace what’s offered, your life and everyone else’s will be changed forever.
Chapter Two
“Hope? Is that you?” Angela Anderson called out as soon as Hope walked into her cute turquoise blue cottage.
“Nope. It’s Betty White. Better put out the good china,” Hope said, rolling her eyes. Who else would it be? Hope lived alone… or had until her mother had moved in a week ago. Hope still didn’t know how long she was staying.
“Funny.” Angela strode in from the kitchen, wearing a rhinestone tiara and carrying two champagne flutes. Sometime over the past two years, her mother had let her long straight hair go natural. It was now a gorgeous silver that Hope already knew she hadn’t been blessed enough to inherit. “Happy forty-sixth, baby!”
Hope took the flute, clinked the glass against her mother’s, and downed the liquid. “Thanks, Mom.” Without missing a beat, she brushed past her mother, intending to move into the kitchen, but stopped in her tracks when she heard her mother’s voice in her head.
Everything is about to change, bunny.
Turning, Hope eyed her mother suspiciously. “You knew about this?”
“Knew what?” Angela asked flippantly, obviously pretending ignorance.
Hope stared into her mother’s dark eyes and said, “Mother, don’t mess with me. What did you mean ‘everything is about to change’?”
“So you did hear me.” Angela gave her a curt nod, plucked the empty flute out of Hope’s hand, and took a right turn into the kitchen.
Letting out a breath of frustration, Hope followed her and leaned against the counter as her mother refilled the glasses and sliced a couple of pieces of double chocolate cheesecake.
“Come,” Angela said, bringing the champagne and dessert over to the breakfast table. “Sit. Let’s celebrate your birthday.”
“I’m not in the mood to celebrate,” Hope said even as she took her seat and picked up the fork.
Her mother chuckled. “Okay. No celebrating.”
Hope stared at the woman who’d raised her and could barely tamp down her irritation. Angela Anderson had been a single mother who’d worked hard to make sure Hope had everything she needed, including the opportunity to go to college. On paper, she was a great mother. Except, the minute Hope turned eighteen and enrolled in college, Angela had taken off, leaving Hope on her own. What was frustrating was that she came back to Premonition Pointe every few years, acted as if she’d never left, and tried to tell Hope how to live her life. And Hope was certain that whatever her mother wanted to talk about was going to be the same old tired script.