Engaged off Bourbon Street (Jade Calhoun Short Story, Book 3.5)

Read Engaged off Bourbon Street (Jade Calhoun Short Story, Book 3.5) Online

Authors: Deanna Chase

Tags: #christmas, #witches, #paranormal romance, #ghosts, #short story, #holiday, #magic, #angels

BOOK: Engaged off Bourbon Street (Jade Calhoun Short Story, Book 3.5)
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Engaged off Bourbon Street (Jade Calhoun Short Story, 3.5)

Deanna Chase

Published by Deanna Chase, 2014.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

ENGAGED OFF BOURBON STREET (JADE CALHOUN SHORT STORY, 3.5)

First edition. December 13, 2014.

Copyright © 2014 Deanna Chase.

ISBN: 978-1940299259

Written by Deanna Chase.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Engaged off Bourbon Street – A short story

About the Author

Engaged off Bourbon Street – A short story

“F
orget the cheesecake!” I yelled, clutching the flimsy limbs of the noble fir. I grimaced, unable to believe those words had actually flown out of my mouth.
Not the cheesecake
. But when a girl is suspended twenty feet in the air, on top of a wobbly ladder, she tends to get a little snappish.

Kane strode in from the kitchen, a pink ruffled apron strapped over his white button-down shirt and steel-gray dress pants. He waved a pink oven mitt that matched the apron. “What’s wrong?”

I choked out a bubble of laughter, making the ladder shift again. “Shit!” Adrenaline shot through my veins as I clung to our enormous Christmas tree, praying I didn’t end up splattered on the gleaming hardwood floor.

Kane ran toward me. With a flick of his wrist, the pink mitt flew over his shoulder. “Jesus, Jade.” He grabbed hold of the metal A-frame. “Get down from there before you break your neck.”

I shot him my best death glare. I was only up there because he’d ignored my last three requests to finish decorating the top three feet of the tree. But the worry clouding his expression melted my irritation, and I slowly moved one foot after the other down the steps, careful to not trip on the hem of my ankle-length skirt. “Someone had to finish decorating this thing. The guests will be here in an hour.”

His strong arms came around me, lifting me off before I reached the bottom rung. “Forget the tree,” he said in a low husky voice. “It won’t be much of an engagement party if my fiancée is splattered on the hardwood.”

A lock of dark hair fell over his gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes as he brushed his lips over mine. I closed my eyes, sinking into the kiss, his warm tongue sending electric shocks right down to my toes.

Yeah. Forget the tree.
Kissing was much more fun. Good thing I’d remembered the mistletoe. If we positioned ourselves just right, we could go on like this all night. Except...

“Crap!” I yelped and pulled away. “The mistletoe! I forgot to hang it.”

Kane’s lips quirked. “I think we’re doing fine without it.”

“Let me down.” Laughing, I pumped a light fist on his shoulder. “I promised Pyper. She has a plan.”

“Huh?” Kane set me down on my feet. “What plan?”

“It has to do with Ian.” I ran toward the grand spiral staircase. “I’ll have to fill you in later.” Dammit. I’d totally forgotten. If I didn’t get the five bundles of mistletoe up in the next half hour, Pyper, my boss and Kane’s best friend, was going to kill me. It was all she’d talked about for the last week.

I skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs and peered down the hall. Now, which room had I left them in? The office? Or the library? Maybe the guest room? We were having our combined engagement-holiday party at Summer House, Kane’s family plantation house located in a tiny bayou town south of New Orleans. I was still settling in. This place was a far cry from my one-room apartment above Kane’s strip club on Bourbon Street.

Hmm. The mistletoe had to be in the guest room. The one decorated in lilac. That was where I’d dropped my latest round of holiday purchases. And also where I’d been doing all my Christmas wrapping. I opened the door and peeked in.
Yikes.
Just what I thought. Chaos. Okay, it had to be in there somewhere. I trudged through the remnants of leftover wrapping paper and discarded shopping bags, scanning the mess. We’d only been there three days. I wasn’t that much of a slob, was I?

After frantically searching each bag, I flopped into an upholstered chair and let out a huge sigh. Where was it? The wall clock read five thirty-five. Everyone would start arriving in twenty-five minutes. Time for a finding spell.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, settling my nerves. Working magic while in a frenzy rarely went well. But as far as incantations went, this one was pretty mild. I opened my eyes and stared at the white pillar candle resting on the dressing table.

“Ignite,” I whispered.

The candlelight flickered to life. Perfect. I moved forward, but just as I reached for the pillar, the flame grew twice as large then split from the wick in four tiny orbs of fire.

“What the—”

The orbs shot around the room, circling me. I froze. A second later, they each zoomed to opposite corners of the room, lighting four other white pillar candles. The overhead light went out, and all five candles glowed brightly in the dark room.

Wow. That was...crazy. All I’d done was light a candle. Not all five. Maybe my power was still haywire after the soul-splitting thing two weeks ago. I didn’t feel any different, though. Well, except for losing my empath ability. I hadn’t felt one outside emotion in days. It was freeing but also weird, as if I’d lost a part of myself.

I shrugged off the nagging feeling that something had gone wrong. All I’d done was light a few candles. No harm, really. Twenty-two more minutes until the guests arrived. This time when I reached for the candle, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Thank goodness.

Holding out my arm, I closed my eyes and chanted, “Lost. Found. Lost. Found. Open my sight. Let the lost be found.” Forming a picture of the five ribbon-wrapped bundles of mistletoe in my mind, I commanded, “Reveal yourself!”

The rustling sound of craft paper filled the room. I opened my eyes. To my right, a white paper bag shimmered with light. I smiled. There they were. “Come to me.” One by one, the pretty little bundles flew out of their bag and landed on the bed in front of me.

Perfect. I scooped them up, blew out the candles, and ran back down the stairs. “Kane,” I cried. “I need help.” No way was I going back up on that death-trap ladder.

“I’ve kind of got my hands full,” he yelled from the kitchen.

The delicious scent of roasted turkey permeated the air. Damn, that man was just about perfect. Gorgeous, rich, exceptional talents in the bedroom, and he cooked. I’d bet he even managed to save my cheesecake.

“Never mind.” I didn’t need a ladder anyway. I was a witch, after all. Eighteen minutes. No time to mess around. Five bundles. Okay. I placed one on the floor in our foyer, one at the base of the staircase, another under the chandelier in the ballroom, and one in front of the coat closet. And the last bundle was to go in the kitchen over the sink. It was a tradition of my mother’s, one I was all too happy to honor. I set the last one on the dining room table and focused on the first four.

Instantly, they started to glow with sparkles of light. I raised my hands, and the bundles rose high in the air.

“Unite,” I demanded.

Nothing appeared to happen, but when I lowered my arms, all four bundles were suspended exactly where they should be. That was easy. Except they still twinkled with light.
Huh.
At least they were festive.

I turned to grab the fifth bundle. “Kane?”

“Still busy.”

I slid through the open door and leaned against the frame, smiling as I watched Kane mixing something with the electric beaters. “Whipped cream?” I asked hopefully.

He cast me a mysterious look and said in a gruff voice, “Come here.”

How could I resist that? I snuggled up next to him, eyeing the bowl of freshly whipped cream. “Is that for my cheesecake?”

“No.” He leaned in, nuzzling my ear.

“Shortcake?”

“Nope.” His tongue darted out, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Pie?” I breathed as his teeth scraped my neck.

He chuckled, his hot breath sending a jolt of anticipation south of my belly button. One arm wrapped around me, dipping me back off my feet into his strong embrace. He scraped the side of the bowl and brought a finger full of fluffy cream to my lips.

I opened my mouth. Yummy goodness melted on my tongue, eliciting a deep moan from the back of my throat.

“This,” he said, heat in his rich-chocolate eyes, “is for after everyone leaves.”

Oh God
. How fast could I get rid of everyone?

Ting. Ting. Ting
.

“Damn it,” I whispered.

Kane’s mouth covered mine, his tongue dancing over mine.

Ting. Ting. Ting
.

I gently pushed him back, more than a little breathless. “They’re here.”

“They can wait.” He dipped his head once more and clutched me close to his body as he made my head spin with one more toe-curling kiss. Everything pulsed.

He pulled away with a satisfied smile. “We should have mistletoe year round.”

I shook my head, laughing. “This one’s not even up yet.” I held out the bundle. “Will you hang it for me?”

“Sure, but you’ll have to pay for it.” He winked and placed the whipped cream in the fridge.

I moved closer, intending to settle my debt.

Ting. Ting
.

Damn doorbell. “I’m coming,” I shouted and ran to the entryway. Right before I reached the door, it swung open all on its own.

“Nice trick,” Pyper said, sweeping into the house. She wore a skintight red velvet minidress. Silver faux fur lined the hem and her wrists. For once, her hair was all black, any traces of shocking hot pink gone. I’d never seen her hair all one color before.

“Wow. Sexy,” I said.

“That was the plan.” She grinned and leaned in to give me a hug, but at the last minute, she planted her lips on mine and gave me more than I’d bargained for.

“Whoa,” I sputtered, pulling away. Holy crap, she’d just slipped me the tongue.

I nodded to Ian, her sort-of boyfriend. “Has she been dipping into the nog already?”

He stared at us, his eyes bright with surprise. Then he gave us his easy smile. “Wow, that was some greeting.”

Pyper laughed but turned away, and I swear her face turned the color of her velvet dress.

“Pyper?” I stared after her as she strode across the ballroom.

She cleared her throat. “I’m going to say hi to Kane.”

I turned to Ian. “That was weird.”

He grinned and moved toward me. Just as he leaned in, he pointed at the mistletoe above my head.

I jumped out from under the dang thing, flashing him an apologetic smile. “I need to get something from the kitchen. Make yourself at home.” The very last thing I needed was Ian, the guy I almost dated before Kane, kissing me. Besides, I’d seen enough lips in the last five minutes. I scooted into the kitchen and leaned against the inner wall.

“I don’t know why. It just happened,” Pyper said to Kane, distress ringing in her voice.

“What happened?” I moved to stand next to Kane. “Did Ian do something?”

“No...I...” Pyper turned pleading eyes on Kane.

He snorted.

“It’s not funny!” She smacked him on the arm.

I placed a hand on my hip. “What’s going on?”

Kane draped an arm over my shoulders and whispered, “She’s embarrassed about what just happened.”

I frowned, not sure what to say.

“The kiss,” Kane prompted.

“Oh... well.” I bit my lip. “I was a little surprised, but it’s no big deal.”

“You’re engaged!” Pyper blurted. “To him.” She waved at Kane, as if we weren’t aware. “And you’re not gay.”

I laughed. “No. But I’m sure I’m not the first straight girl you’ve ever kissed.”

“Definitely not,” Kane confirmed, his eyes crinkled in amusement.

“You’re not mad?” she asked both of us. “I mean, things aren’t going to get weird, are they?”

Kane and I glanced at each other. Then we both shook our heads.

I shrugged. “It’s just mistletoe.”

She glanced up at the bundle overhead and stepped forward. Then she seemed to consciously stop herself. She spun around, and without looking back, she strode back out into the ballroom.

I took Kane’s hand in mine. “You’re really not upset?”

He shook his head, his eyebrows pinched in confusion. “I might have been a little concerned if she hadn’t been so wigged about it. But she didn’t seem herself at all.”

“So if she’d brushed it off as nothing, you would’ve worried?”

He glanced down at me. “I trust you, but she did steal my college girlfriend. A guy doesn’t really recover from that kind of thing, no matter how entertaining the fantasies are.” The crinkles around his eyes reappeared as a grin spread across his face.

I punched him on the shoulder. “Shut up.”

He laughed and handed me a tray of goat-cheese-stuffed mushrooms. “Take these. I’ll be out in a second.”

“Hurry,” I called as I headed toward the kitchen door.

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